He didn’t pause until he stood just a breath away.
“Robert—” His name tumbled from her lips, half gasp and half question.
He didn’t answer. Not with words. His eyes burned down at her, and the firelight threw his face into sharp planes. He didn’t stop until the heat of his body pressed close, until she had to tilt her head back to meet his stare.
“What—what are ye doing here?” she demanded, forcing her voice steady.
“Sit,” he said. The single word fell like an order in the yard. Her chin rose. “Excuse me?”
“Sit by me,” he repeated, his tone harder. “Now.”
Her pulse leapt. She set her notebook aside with care and rose to her feet. “If ye think ye can storm into me chamber and bark orders like I’m one of yer men?—”
His hand shot out, not to grab but to point firmly at the chair by the fire. “Sit.”
Scarlett’s chest rose, breath coming faster, but she lowered herself into the seat; her movement was sharp with defiance. “Satisfied?”
Robert leaned over her, bracing a hand on the chair’s arm. His other hand pointed to the sketches on the floor. “Ye’ve been busy, I see. Sketching the yard while ye pretend ye’ve no eyes for the men in it.”
Her brows slammed together. “Pretend?”
“Aye.” His gaze seared into hers. “Ye willnae flirt with another man again. Not Mack Little. Not any of them. Whatever liberties ye think ye’ve been granted here, consider them revoked.”
Her stomach dropped, fury flaring hot. She rose abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. “Revoked?” Her voice was louder. “Like I had any liberties at all!”
His jaw flexed. “Scarlett?—”
“Nay!” Her hand shot out, slapping against her sketchbook for emphasis. “Ye and Aaron wanted me here at Gundor. At Clan McLaren. And here I am. Do ye think it’s a game for me? That I’m sitting with parchment and pretty lines, enjoying meself, while me life is nae mine anymore?”
His eyes darkened. “Ye speak as though ye’ve been wronged.”
Her laughter was bitter. “Wronged? Me brother hasn’t sent word in days. Edith, I’ve no word from her either. And I smile for yer folk. I laugh when I should. I even pretended to enjoy supper with Mack while ye glowered like thunder at the other end of the table.”
His stare hardened. “Ye enjoyed it well enough.”
She blinked, stunned. “Is that what this is about? Mack Little offering me a chair? That’s what’s got ye storming into me chamber like a brute?”
Robert stepped closer. “It’s about ye being me wife. Ye willnae give another man yer smiles.”
Scarlett’s lips parted, outrage spilling out. “Ye dare—–ye dare speak of smiles when ye cannae give me one yerself. When all ye’ve given me are commands and bargains and five bloody nights like I’m nothing but a fleeting conquest!”
He stiffened visibly.
Scarlett pressed on with fire in her veins. “Revoked? Do ye hear yerself? I had no liberties to begin with. Aaron thrust me into this like cattle to market. And ye—ye’ve done naught but remind me I’m here to warm yer bed when ye see fit.”
His chest rose, sharp with his breath. He leaned in until his face hovered inches from hers. “Ye think I’ve no want for ye?”
Scarlett’s throat went dry, but she forced the words past her lips. “If ye do, ye’ve a cruel way of showing it.”
For a moment, silence stretched, taut as a bowstring. The fire popped behind them.
Robert’s voice came low, dangerous. “Sit. Before I lose the will to let this remain words.”
Her pulse thundered, but she lifted her chin higher. “Do ye threaten me, Robert?”
His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth then lower to the thin line of her nightdress where the firelight outlined every curve. His throat worked as he swallowed. “Nay. I warn ye.”
Scarlett’s breath shook. She turned sharply, pacing to the window where the cold seeped through the stone. Her voice trembled but not with fear. “All I’ve wanted is a letter from me brother. A word from Edith. And instead, I’ve a laird who thinks to strip me of liberties I never had.”
