Chapter 5 #2
Scarlett did blush, but she shook her head with a small laugh. “Saints preserve me, Katie. One day ye’ll shock me beyond repair.”
“Then I’ll be doing me duty,” Katie teased.
The laughter faded, though, when silence pressed back in. Scarlett looked to the window, and her smile faltered.
She hadn’t seen Robert in days.
Her eyes flicked toward the door where Mary was straightening a pile of linens. “Mary,” she said, trying for casual though her voice betrayed her, “does the Laird always vanish for days after wedding his wife?”
Mary stilled, the linen clutched in her hands. “Me Lady…”
Scarlett’s brow arched. “He dines somewhere, surely. Sleeps just over there. Yet I havenae seen him since the garden. It’s as if he moves through the walls like a ghost.”
Mary pursed her lips, folding the linen too neatly, buying herself time. “He’s busy, Me Lady.”
Scarlett swallowed. “Too busy to see his wife?”
Mary shifted, clearly reluctant. “Lairds carry burdens most folk cannae ken.”
Katie said nothing. She just looked at her cup, the corner of her mouth doing something that wasn't quite a smile.
Scarlett’s gaze moved to the heavy wooden drawer where she’d hidden the letter. That scrap of parchment was the only proof she had that she’d made the right choice, that Edith was safe and this marriage was worth the cost.
She stayed still and waited for that knowledge to feel like enough. It almost did.
She gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles turning white, and forced herself to look away from the drawer. She had what she wanted. She wouldn't let herself mourn the rest.
Scarlett sat cross-legged on the bed, Edith’s letter open in her lap. The words blurred; she had read them so many times she could recite them in her sleep.
Her throat tightened. She had done the right thing. She had. So why did it feel like she was the only one paying for it?
Mary hummed as she fussed with the fire. “Ye’ll wear a hole in that page if ye keep staring at it.”
Scarlett folded the letter, tucking it under her pillow. “At least it speaks back. Unlike the man I wed.”
Mary stilled, poker halfway to the logs. “Best mind that tongue, Me Lady. Some truths are better thought than said.”
Scarlett laughed, short and bitter. “Aye, well, I’ve plenty of truths rotting in me head already. Best some of them get out.”
Mary turned, her lips pressed thin. “Men like him… they’ve ways. They take their time, or they take their pleasure elsewhere until they’re ready to claim their own.”
The words hit like a slap. Scarlett’s spine went stiff. “Elsewhere?” Mary paled, realizing too late what she’d implied. “I only mean—”
But Scarlett was already standing; she already had her skirts in her fists. “Save it. If he can spare himself for another, he can damn well face me.” “Scarlett—” Mary’s warning fell flat as Scarlett swept to the door.
Scarlett stopped the first servant she passed, a boy carrying a bundle of kindling, “Where’s the Laird?”
The boy blinked with his eyes wide. “The solar, Me Lady.”
Scarlett thanked him and waltzed away. Her pulse was already hammering as she strode down the passage, fury making her limbs light.
She pushed the solar doors wide without knocking.
Robert looked up from the table, maps and parchments spread before him. Surprise flickered then settled into irritation. “Scarlett.”
Scarlett stalked forward, the fire in her blood lending her steps with purpose. “When?”
He leaned back, and his dark brows drew together. “When what?” “When am I to fulfill me part of the bargain?”
His eyes narrowed, studying her. “Speak plain.”
Her voice rose, “The heir. Ye said it was one of yer conditions. I’ve waited like some maid in the kirk, wondering when me nights will be claimed. Should I expect a note? A bloody summon?”
His chair scraped as he stood. “I’ll decide when the time is right. Not ye.”
Scarlett’s laugh was harsh. “So I am to sit and wait like a broodmare tethered in a stall, praying for the master’s hand?”
His jaw clenched, and his eyes flashed with something dangerous. Slowly and deliberately, he crossed the space between them.
“And yet,” he said, voice low, “that is precisely what ye agreed to. A wife’s duty isnae negotiable.”
Her chin jerked high, “I agreed to a normal marriage, nae to be treated like a beast for breeding.”
He stopped so close she could feel the heat radiating off him. His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth before rising again. “A beast? Nay, lass. Ye’re far too tempting for that insult.”
"Tempting?"
The word hit her with a heat she hadn't expected. Scarlett didn't let herself flinch. She kept her gaze locked on his, pressing forward before the silence could swallow her.
"Ye have a strange way of showing it," she said, her voice tight. "Lurking in the shadows and hiding behind yer maps while I rot in this silence."
His lips twitched. “Maps keep me men alive. Yer patience, or lack of it, doesnae.”
Scarlett bristled, fury and something hotter tangling in her chest. “Ye think me impatient? I’m tired of being left to wonder when ye’ll claim what ye call yers. Tired of pretending it doesnae matter.”
She turned, meaning to storm out, but his hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist. In a blink, he pulled her flush against himself, and her body collided with his chest.
The air vanished. His breath brushed her cheek, and his grip strong enough to remind her just how easily he could take.
“Let me go,” she whispered though the tremor in her voice betrayed her.
His mouth dipped toward her ear, rough words grazing her skin. “I’ll let ye go when I’m ready. Just as I’ll take ye when I choose. And when I do, Scarlett, ye willnae be thinking of bargains. Ye’ll be begging me to keep going.”
Her stomach dropped, molten heat pooling low in her belly. Her free hand jerked up, pointing blindly with her finger, a pitiful weapon against the hunger in his eyes.
“Ye—ye cannae—” she stammered, cheeks flaming.
His lips twitched again, faint amusement cutting through his face. “Pointing yer finger at me, lass? Shall I tremble?”
Scarlett’s face burned hotter, but her chin refused to dip. “Better a pencil than-than standing here like a fool, hearing ye speak of me as if I’m stock to be traded.”
He released her wrist abruptly though his eyes pinned her in place. “Five nights.”
Her brows knitted. “What?”
“That’s all I’ll take from ye. Five nights. Yer body will be mine, and when the duty’s done, ye’ll be free of me.”
Her chest heaved, fury and want clawing each other raw. “And what if five nights isnae enough?”
The words escaped before she could catch them, and the silence that followed was suffocating.
Robert’s eyes darkened further. “Then God help us both.”
Scarlett stumbled back.
The words were still in the room, hanging in the air between them, what if five nights is not enough. She couldn't take them back. She saw the look in Robert’s eyes and knew he had already filed that admission away, locking it somewhere she would never reach.
She didn't wait for him to speak. She turned and walked out. There was no parting shot this time, nothing sharp to hide behind.
The door shut with a heavy thud.
Scarlett stood in the corridor, her back pressed against the cold stone wall. She didn't move. She didn't breathe. She just stayed there in the silence, her hands trembling at her sides.