Katie came up behind her, resting her chin lightly on Scarlett’s shoulder. “Then be patient. Ye’re clever, and he’s only a man. Even lairds can fall.”
Scarlett turned slightly, meeting Katie’s eyes. Wide, uncertain, yet bright with mischief. That look alone made Scarlett’s pulse stumble. Katie nudged her with a grin.
“Well?” Katie pressed. “Ye cannae stop there. What was it like? The Laird in yer chamber?”
Scarlett’s fingers toyed with her brush, her pulse still unsteady. Her lips parted, then closed again. She wanted to keep it all to herself, to guard it like a secret treasure, but the words burned too hot to stay locked inside. “He… he made me feel alive. As if me whole body was aflame, and yet I didnae want the fire to stop. I could scarcely breathe for it.”
Katie clasped her hands together, a delighted squeal bursting free before she could stop it. “Och, lass, that’s how it should be!Folk talk of cold duty and stiff men, but ye, ye’re glowing.” She reached out, squeezing Scarlett’s arm with mock severity. “I can see it on ye plain as day.”
Scarlett ducked her head, cheeks hot, her voice softer now. “It was… overwhelming. I didnae ken a man could make a woman feel such things.”
Katie’s teasing softened into something gentler. “Aye. But ye mustnae be ashamed if it hurt, too. It is always the way, the first time. The body fights against it. Sometimes there’s blood, sometimes tears. It’s normal.”
Scarlett stilled, her brush slipping from her fingers onto the coverlet. Her pulse leapt in confusion. Hurt? Blood? Tears? None of that had happened. Her body had sung under his touch, not fought it. There’d been no sting, no pain, only heat that left her trembling, desperate, and undone.
She blinked at Katie, struggling to keep her voice even. “I… I see.”
Katie, mistaking her pause for embarrassment, patted her knee. “Ye’ll ken it all better with time. For now, just enjoy what he gives ye.”
Scarlett managed a faint smile, though it felt brittle. If only Katie knew the truth, that Robert hadn’t claimed her fully, not yet. That his touch had been both torment and gift, awakening her body and then denying it. Some things were too raw, too private to lay bare even to a friend.
The word stayed with her after Katie moved on.
Blood.
Scarlett looked at the bedsheets, white, undisturbed, and said nothing.
Katie tilted her head, puzzled by the question. “Och, aye. Ye didnae ken? Every lass talks of it after her wedding night. It eases soon enough, but the first time, it nearly always stings.”
Scarlett sat frozen, her mind scrambling. She had no such tale to share. No hurt. No crimson proof on the sheets. Only the memory of his hand on her, his breath at her ear, her body shattering around him without him ever being inside her.
Her lips parted, the truth threatening to spill, but she caught it back, forcing herself to nod. “Aye… I suppose.”
Katie gave her a pitying smile, as though she were reassuring a frightened child. “Daenae fret, Me Lady. Ye’ll find it sweet enough soon. Ye’ll learn his ways, and he’ll learn yers. That’s marriage.”
Scarlett looked back at her reflection, at the flush in her cheeks, the too-bright gleam in her eyes. Her stomach twisted. Katie thought she had spoken of consummation, and Scarlett had let her believe it. Because how could she confess otherwise? How could she admit that her laird husband had left her writhingunder his hand yet untouched, unclaimed in the way everyone expected?
She swallowed hard, gripping the brush tighter until her knuckles whitened. “Aye,” she murmured faintly. “That must be it.”
Katie patted her shoulder once more, oblivious. “Ye’re lucky, Scarlett. Truly. Some men give their wives nothing but duty and silence. At least ye’ve found a laird who can stir ye.”
Scarlett’s throat worked as she forced a thin smile. She didn’t trust herself to answer.
Katie bustled toward the wardrobe, humming as she began to fuss over the gowns. The cheerful rustle of silk felt loud in the quiet room.
Scarlett sat still, her gaze anchored to the mirror. The woman in the glass was flushed, her eyes darker, possessing a knowledge that hadn't been there yesterday. She looked like a secret waiting to be told.
She picked up her brush and began to work through her hair. The strokes were rhythmic and hard, a penance for the heat still humming under her skin.
She didn't look at Katie. She just watched the silver-backed brush rise and fall, bracing herself for the moment she wouldhave to walk out that door and face the man who had left her undone.
Scarlett sat still as Mary pinned back the last strand of her hair. The maid had been fussing since sundown, muttering about cloaks and gowns until Scarlett finally lifted her hand.
“I’ll eat in the dining hall tonight.”
Mary blinked at her through the mirror. “With the men?”
Scarlett gave a small nod. “Aye. I’ve hidden away too long. If I’m to belong here, I must sit with them.”
