Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The corridor was hushed, save for the faint hum of hearth fires and the muted clatter from the great hall below.
Scarlett wandered, her sketchbook tucked beneath one arm, trying and failing not to think of Robert’s voice that morning.
Clipped and cold. As if the night before had been nothing more than a lapse in judgment.
Her fingers found the necklace at her throat, the garnet catching what little light reached the passage. She hadn’t taken it off since he’d fastened it there.
“Saints above,” came a familiar voice. “If that’s nae the finest trinket I’ve seen in this castle, then I’ll eat me own skirts.”
Scarlett startled, looking up to find Katie standing a few paces away, a bundle of herbs and bandages in her arms.
“Katie,” Scarlett said, forcing a smile. “Ye gave me a fright.”
Katie grinned. “I’ll give ye more than that if ye daenae tell me where ye got that bit of silver. Go on then, who gave it to ye?”
Scarlett hesitated, her hand still half-curled around the pendant. “It was… the Laird.”
Katie’s eyes went wide, then bright with delight. “The Laird? As in Robert McLaren, the same man who scowled through half yer wedding vows?”
Scarlett rolled her eyes and started walking again, hoping to leave the topic behind. “Do stop, Katie.”
“Oh nay, Me Lady,” Katie said, quickening her pace to follow. “Ye willnae escape me that easy. A gift from the Laird himself? A necklace, no less! Saints, if he’d given me such a thing, I’d be strutting through the courtyard till the hens bowed in respect.”
Scarlett laughed despite herself. “Ye’re ridiculous.”
Katie tilted her head, studying her. “Ridiculous, maybe, but I ken the look of a lass touched by surprise. Or by something else.”
Scarlett frowned, quick to protest. “It’s nae like that. He gave it because…”
“Aye?” Katie prompted, voice soft but full of mischief.
“Because he’s trying,” Scarlett said finally. “To be… kind. Courteous.” “Courteous,” Katie echoed, one brow lifting. “And was it courtesy that made him choose a garnet, the very color of yer hair? Or did he simply close his eyes and pick whatever trinket shone brightest?”
Scarlett faltered mid-step, her cheeks warming. “Ye think too much of it.”
“And ye think too little,” Katie said cheerfully. “That man’s got more walls than this keep, but when a man like that gives something pretty, it means he’s looking longer than he should.”
Scarlett shook her head though her fingers still brushed the chain. “He gave it to me after we went to the village. There was a stall, and I happened to…”
“Happened to?”
Her lips twitched. “…admire it.”
Katie gasped, her grin turning wicked. “Och, he saw ye looking and bought it on the spot, didnae he? Lord save me, Scarlett, ye’ve done it. The Laird’s caught and daenae even ken it yet.”
Scarlett stopped walking, folding her arms. “Katie, ye’re letting yer imagination run wild again.”
“It’s running straight where the truth lies.” Katie set her bundle on a bench, crossing her arms to mirror her mistress. “Ye daenae gift a woman a necklace unless ye mean to say something with it.”
“It was a gesture,” Scarlett insisted. “He’s only… Well, he’s trying to make peace. I told him I wanted us to get to know each other before talking of heirs.”
Katie blinked. “Heirs?”
Scarlett’s blush deepened. “Aye. I thought if we built some… foundation first, perhaps there’d be less tension between us.”
Katie leaned closer, lowering her voice. “And did that ‘foundation’ happen to involve him touching ye like a man who wants more than peace?”
“Katie!” Scarlett hissed, glancing up and down the corridor. “Must ye shout it from the rafters?”
Katie only smirked. “I’m whispering, Me Lady. And by the look on yer face, I’ve struck gold.”
Scarlett turned away, pretending to study a tapestry on the wall. “There was… something between us. For a moment. But it’s done now. He’s distant again.”
Katie’s tone softened. “Distant how?”
Scarlett hesitated. “Cold. He was tender one night, and the next morning it was as if I were nay more than a duty he’d fulfilled. Like none of it mattered.”
Katie frowned thoughtfully. “Men like him, they live half their lives in armor. Takes time for the iron to bend.”
Scarlett gave a short, humorless laugh. “If that’s true, I’ll be long in the grave before it happens.”
“Oh, ye daenae ken that.” Katie picked up her herbs again. “Ye think I cannae see it, but I do. The way he looks at ye when he thinks nay one’s watching. There’s something soft there, even if he’s trying to beat it down.”
Scarlett’s brows knit. “He looks at me?”
“Like a man who’s already halfway lost,” Katie said simply.
Scarlett’s stomach flipped though she hid it with a sigh. “Ye’re impossible, truly. Ye read love stories into every sideways glance.”
“And ye refuse to see when one’s staring ye in the face.”
Scarlett pressed a hand to her temple, half exasperated. “It’s nae like that. I’m his wife in name, Katie, and a little more. He’s been… respectful. Overly so, even. I think he’s more afraid of touching me than I am of him.”
Katie chuckled. “Och, that’ll change soon enough. Nay man stares like that and stays still for long.”
Scarlett shot her a look. “Are ye done?”
“Nay. I’ve more yet.” Katie leaned closer again, mischief glinting bright. “So, tell me, when he gave ye that necklace, did he fasten it himself?”
Scarlett froze, color blooming high in her cheeks. “Aye,” she admitted quietly.
“And did he take his time?” “Katie.”
“Answer me.”
Scarlett huffed though her voice had softened. “He did. But only because the clasp was… difficult.”
Katie grinned triumphantly. “Aye, difficult. That’s what we’re calling it now.”
Scarlett laughed, shaking her head. “Ye’re really something.”
“Maybe. But ye’re smiling now, and that tells me all I need to ken.”
Scarlett’s laughter faded, replaced by something quieter, a sigh, almost wistful. “He confuses me, Katie. One moment, he’s kind and warm, and the next, he’s colder than the stones underfoot. I cannae tell which man is truly him.”
Katie’s voice gentled. “Maybe both are. Maybe he’s still figuring it out, same as ye.”
Scarlett glanced away, her fingers brushing the pendant again. “I daenae want to hope for something that’s nae there.”
“Then stop hoping,” Katie said with a shrug. “Just see what comes.
Ye’ll drive yerself mad trying to name what’s still growing.” Scarlett smiled faintly. “When did ye grow so wise?”
Katie laughed. “Somewhere between mixing poultices and patching stubborn people like yer husband. Comes with the work.”
Scarlett tilted her head, amused. “And what’s yer take, then, healer?” Katie’s grin returned, bright and unyielding. “That the Laird’s smitten, and the Lady’s halfway to it herself. Ye can deny it all ye like, but I’ll wager me best gown ye’ll be kissing him again before the week’s done.”
Scarlett made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “Ye’ve nay faith in me restraint, then?”
“None,” Katie said cheerfully. “Ye’ve that look, the one that says ye’re thinking about him even as we speak.”
Scarlett’s mouth opened then closed again. “I am nae.”
Katie’s brows rose. “Yer hand’s been on that necklace the whole time, lass.”
Scarlett looked down, startled, and dropped her hand as though burned. “Bad habit.”
Katie smirked, gathering her bundle once more. “Aye. A habit with his name on it.”
Scarlett tried not to smile, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her.
Katie turned to go, pausing halfway down the corridor. “He’ll come around, ye ken. Sooner or later.”
Scarlett shook her head. “And if he doesnae?”
Katie winked. “Then I’ll make him a tonic for clarity, strong enough to knock sense into both of ye.”
Scarlett’s laughter followed her down the hall, but when the sound faded, she stood alone again, her fingers unconsciously finding the pendant at her throat.
She whispered to no one, “It’s only a gift.”
But even as she said it, she knew she was lying.
Outside her chamber, the rain whispered against the windows, and the old stones sighed with the night wind.
Scarlett lay in bed, eyes heavy, and the faint glow of the hearth painted gold across the quilt.
It was a rare kind of peace with no duties, no murmurs from the maids, and no brooding laird pacing through her thoughts.
Finally, a night that belongs to me.
Her limbs were soft with warmth and drowsiness when a faint creak broke the quiet. Her eyes fluttered open. At first, she thought it was only the draft again, the moan of wind through old hinges, but then she saw him.
Robert stood in the doorway, framed by the torchlight from the corridor. His shirt clung faintly to his chest, his boots still damp from patrol.
Scarlett pushed herself upright, gathering the quilt to her chest. “Ye have no right to be here,” she said sharply though her voice trembled. “This night is mine. I didnae request ye.”
Robert said nothing at first. He only closed the door and let the silence stretch between them. When he finally spoke, his tone was roughened by something she couldn’t name.
“Aye, I ken that. But I cannae stay away.”
Her heart gave a traitorous jolt. “Ye cannae?”
He took a slow step forward. “Ye’re driving me mad, Scarlett.
Desirable and insufferable all at once.”
Her breath caught, anger flaring as quick as a spark. “Insufferable?
That’s a fine way to flatter a woman, Me Laird.”
“Flattery’s wasted on ye.” His mouth curved faintly. “Ye’d only mock me for it.”
“I might.” She lifted her chin though her voice came out softer than she intended. “So what is it ye expect of me, barging in at this hour? Gratitude? Amusement? A fight?”
He took another step closer, and her words thinned to air.
“I didnae come to fight.” His gaze fixed on her. “I came because when I try to keep away, I fail.”
Scarlett opened her mouth, but before she could speak, he crossed the room in two strides.