Page 20 of The Laird’s Sinful Claim

"At least you're honest about the fact that you see it as a sale."

"What else would I call it?" He leaned forward slightly. "I paid coin. I got ye. That's a transaction, lass. Nay need tae dress it up in pretty words just tae make us feel better about it."

"Feel better?" Her voice rose slightly. "You think I feel better about being purchased like livestock, however we call it?"

"I think ye feel better than ye would have if Langley had won that bid."

She went very still. The color drained from her face, and David knew he'd struck true. Too true, perhaps.

"Ye dinnae like hearin' it said plain," he continued, gentling his tone slightly. "But that's what happened. I bought ye. And now ye're me wife. And when we meet the Duke of Albany, ye'll stand beside me and smile and confirm that we've been betrothed since before his summons arrived. Because if ye dinnae, he'll find ways tae make both our lives considerably more difficult."

"So I'm to lie to the Regent." Elinor's voice was flat. "To protect you."

"Tae protect both of us."

"And what do I get in return for this lie?"

"Ye get tae nae be sold tae someone else. Ye get protection. A home. Comfort." He gestured to her now-empty bowl. "Seems like a fair trade tae me."

"A fair trade," she repeated. "You're asking me to commit treason by lying to the Duke of Albany, and you think living in a laird’s castle is fair compensation?"

He pulled her chair closer to him so that she was facing him and her knees touched his.

"What dae ye want, then?" The question came out desperate. "Name yer price, lass. What will it take tae get ye tae play the part of me devoted wife fer one meetin' with the regent?"

Elinor stared at him for a long moment. Around them, the tavern continued its evening bustle, but their corner felt isolated. Private. A battlefield where only words were weapons.

"Three favors," she said finally.

David blinked. "What?"

"You want me to help you lie to the Duke of Albany. To convince him we're truly married for love and not convenience. Fine." She leaned forward slightly, and David found himself caught by the intensity in her eyes. "But I want three favors in return. Three times when you'll do something I ask, no questions, no arguments."

"That's vague as hell, lass."

"That's the point." A small, sharp smile curved her mouth. "You're asking me to trust you. To put my life in your hands with this lie. So I'm asking you to trust me in return. Three favors. My terms. Will you agree?"

David considered. Every instinct he had, honed by years of negotiation and strategy, told him this was a trap. That agreeing to open-ended terms was foolish. That he should set boundaries, limitations, conditions.

But he looked at her pale face, her determined eyes, the set of her jaw that said she wouldn't back down. And he thought about what he was asking of her. To stand before a regent and lie. To tie her fate to his when she barely knew him. To trust him when he'd given her precious little reason to.

Three favors seemed like a small price for that.

"I have terms as well," he said.

"What?"

"Ye said ye want three favors, yer terms. Fine. But I need some terms too." He held up a hand, ticking off fingers. "First, ye cannae use one of these favors tae run away. Ye're me wife now, lass. That's nae changin'. Second, ye cannae ask fer anythin' that would harm ye. I'm nae helpin' ye dae somethin' dangerous or foolish."

"Anything else?" Her tone was dry.

"Aye. Third, the favors have tae be reasonable. Ye cannae ask me tae hand over me clan or murder someone or any other nonsense like that."

"Reasonable. That's rather subjective, don't you think?"

"That's why we're negotiatin'." He leaned back slightly. "Dae we have an accord?"

Elinor was quiet for a moment, thinking. David could almost see her mind working, weighing the terms, looking for loopholes.