His jaw twitched, but he said nothing.
She held his gaze a moment longer then leaned back with a sharp exhale. “Thought so.”
They rode on in silence. After a long while, she muttered, “Ye ken, most men would apologize when they’ve wronged their wife.”
He didn’t look at her. “Have I wronged ye?”
Scarlett gave a small, humorless laugh. “Ye’ve a strange memory, Robert. Let me remind ye… ye kissed me like a man starved then woke me like a soldier on duty. Forgive me if I’m confused about where we stand.”
His hands tightened on the reins. “Ye think I planned that night?”
“I think ye wanted it,” she shot back. “And I think ye want to pretend ye didn’t.”
He swore under his breath. “Ye think too much, lass.”
“And ye think too little,” she retorted. “If ye’d only speak plain?—”
“Plain? Ye want plain? Fine. I’m yer husband. Ye’re me wife. The rest of it, it’s nothing but foolishness we’ve both fed too long.”
Scarlett blinked, startled. “That’s… plain, indeed.”
Robert dragged a hand through his hair, frustration cutting through his restraint. “Ye twist me words before they’ve left me mouth.” “Only when they make nay sense.”
He gave a short, mirthless laugh. “There’s nae winning with ye.” “Then stop trying to win,” she said softly.
The quiet that followed wasn’t empty this time. It felt heavy, full of what neither dared say.
He finally spoke again. “I daenae mean to hurt ye.” Scarlett’s chest tightened. “Then why do ye?”
He looked at her, really looked. The way he had last night, when the world had shrunk to just the two of them and everything else had fallen away. “Because ye make me forget what’s safe.”
Scarlett blinked. “And that frightens ye?”
He didn’t answer, but his silence said enough.
Scarlett swallowed, forcing a small smile. “Good. Maybe ye’ll learn what it feels like to live instead of just lead.”
Robert’s mouth twitched though his eyes stayed fixed on the horizon. “Ye’re impossible.”
“So ye’ve told me,” she murmured. “Yet here we are.”
He said nothing, but she noticed the tension in his hands ease slightly on the reins.
Scarlett glanced at him from the corner of her eye, the green stone of her necklace cool against her throat. Three nights left, she thought, her heart steadying even as it ached.
And God help me, I’ve a feeling I’ll lose more than sleep before they’re done.
The wind had turned sharp by the time Gundor’s towers broke through the mist. Their gray stone rose hard against the sky, solid and unyielding, exactly how he liked things. Yet this morning, the sight brought Robert no peace.
Scarlett rode a little ahead, the hem of her cloak damp, strands of her hair catching the wind. He watched her without meaning to, the proud line of her spine and the quiet defiance in every movement.
Aye, she’d argued him half the way here, challenged him the other half, and somehow, she still managed to look like the finest thing that ever rode across Highland soil.
God save him, he was losing his grip.
The gates creaked open, and the courtyard came alive. Stable lads hurried forward, guards nodded, and from across the yard, Leon spotted them first.
“Saints above!” Leon called, grinning widely. “The Laird returns and with his bonnie bride still intact! Tell me, Scarlett, how’s married life treating ye? Has our Robert gone soft yet?”
