Page 14 of The Laird’s Sinful Claim

And, despite the fear and fury still churning in her chest, Elinor felt something stir low in her stomach. An awareness she didn't want and couldn't afford.

She looked away.

"What I can tell ye is this: we need tae leave. Now. And before we meet the regent, ye and I need tae be married."

"Married?" The word came out strangled. "You can't be serious."

"I'm entirely serious."

"I don't even know you!"

"Ye ken me name and me title. Laird of Keppoch. Ye ken I paid five-hundred pounds fer ye when I could have walked away and let Langley have ye." His eyes held hers, dark and steady. "What more dae ye need tae ken?"

"Everything!" The word burst out of her, too loud, too desperate. She tried to rein herself in, to find the composure she'd worn like armor for so many years. "I need to know why. I need to know what you want from me. I need to know if I'm walking from one prison into another."

Something shifted in David's expression. The hard edges softened, just slightly. "I'm nae yer faither, lass. And I'm nae Langley."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the best ye're gettin' until we're away from here and married." He held out his hand. "Come."

Elinor looked at his outstretched hand. At the calluses on his palm, the faint scars across his knuckles. A warrior's hand. She thought of her father's hands, soft and weak despite his cruelty. Of Edmund Langley's hands, reaching for her like she was property to be claimed.

David's hand was steady. Patient. Waiting for her choice, even though they both knew she had no real choice at all.

"If I go with you," she said slowly, "and I marry you, what happens then?"

"Then ye become Lady MacDonald. Ye come north with me tae Keppoch. And ye're under me protection."

"Your protection." She tasted the words, found them wanting. "Men always say they're protecting women when what they mean is they're controlling them."

"Aye," David said quietly. "Some men dae."

"And you?"

"I dinnae ken yet, lass. I've never had a wife before." His honesty caught her off guard. "But I can tell ye this, I didnae pay five-hundred pounds fer ye just tae make ye miserable. That would be a poor investment."

Despite everything, a surprised laugh escaped her. "You're comparing me to cattle."

"I'm comparin' ye tae a very expensive decision that I'm hopin' I dinnae regret." The corner of his mouth twitched. Almost a smile. "Are ye goin' tae make me regret it?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"Fair enough." He kept his hand extended. "But decide while we're ridin'. We need tae be gone before Langley works up the courage tae come take ye with force."

The mention of Langley made up her mind. Whatever David MacDonald was, whatever he wanted from her, he was not Edmund Langley. That alone was worth the risk.

She placed her hand in his.

His fingers closed around hers, warm despite the cold. Then, before she could process what was happening, he swept her up into his arms.

"What are you doing?" She grabbed at his shoulders, more from instinct than actual protest.

"Ye said ye'd come. I'm makin' sure ye cannae change yer mind before we're mounted." He carried her toward the grey stallion with long, purposeful strides.

"I can walk!"

"Aye, ye can. And ye can also plant yer feet and refuse tae move, like ye did thirty seconds ago." He stopped beside the horse, looking down at her. "I'm nae takin' that chance."