Page 119 of The Laird’s Sinful Claim

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Elinor closed the door to the solar behind her and leaned against it, finally allowing herself to breathe.

The day had been endless. The Regent’s arrival. The interrogation—because that's what it had been, really, despite the polite language. The wedding sheet displayed like evidence in a trial. Dinner where every word had to be measured, every smile carefully calibrated.

She was exhausted.

"There ye are."

She opened her eyes to find David already in the solar, two glasses and a bottle of whisky on the small table between the chairs by the fire. He'd removed his formal clothing, was down to his shirt and trews, looking more relaxed than he had all day.

"I thought you might need this," he said, gesturing to the bottle.

"God, yes." Elinor moved to the chairs, sinking into one gratefully. "I need something stronger than wine, honestly."

She accepted the glass he poured for her, taking a drink. The liquid was good, rich and warming.

David settled into the chair opposite her. "Ye did well today, lass."

"I was terrified the entire time." Elinor took another drink, feeling some of the tension start to ease from her shoulders. "When ye came with the wedding sheet, I thought I might actually be sick."

"I'm sorry ye had tae go through that."

"It's nae your fault." She gestured vaguely with her glass.

"Aye." David's expression was grim. "And it's done now. And the Duke believed us. That's what matters."

"For now." Elinor set down her glass, suddenly feeling the weight of everything that had happened—not just today, but over the past months. "What happens when Langley makes more accusations? When he sends more men?"

"Hey." David leaned forward, taking her free hand. "Dinnae borrow trouble from tomorrow. Today was hard enough without worryin' about what comes next."

"I can't help it." Her voice was small. "I keep waiting for everything to fall apart. For someone to discover the truth. For the Duke to change his mind."

"Elinor." David moved from his chair to kneel in front of hers, his hands on her knees. "Look at me."

She did, meeting his dark eyes.

"The Duke is satisfied. Our marriage is legitimate in his eyes and in the eyes of the crown." His thumbs traced circles on her knees through her gown. "Whatever comes next, we'll handle it. Taegether."

"You keep saying that."

"Because it's true." He squeezed gently. "I'm nae leavin' ye tae face anythin' alone. I'm nay shuttin' ye out anymore. Whatever comes, we face it taegether."

Elinor felt tears prick her eyes. "I was so scared today. Not just for me, but for you. For what might happen if he didn't believe us. If he decided our marriage was a fraud. They could have taken you. You could have been facing bad consequences."

"But I wasnae." He reached up, cupping her face. "We're both fine. We're both here. And we're safe fer now."

"For now," she echoed. "I hate those words. 'For now.' Like everything good is temporary. Like happiness has an expiration date."

"Maybe it daes." His smile was sad. "Maybe that's why we have tae hold ontae it when we have it. Why we cannae waste time worryin' about when it might end."

"That's very philosophical for a Highland warrior."

"Even Highland warriors have deep thoughts occasionally." He stood, pulling her up with him. "Come here."

She went into his arms willingly, resting her head against his chest. She could hear his heartbeat—steady and strong. Feel the warmth of him seeping into her cold, tense body.

"I'm proud of ye," he murmured into her hair. "The way ye handled the regent. The way ye've handled everythin' since comin' here. Ye're stronger than ye give yerself credit fer."