Page 34 of The Laird’s Sinful Claim

"All right," she said quietly. Then, because people were watching and she was supposed to be a loving wife, she rose on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Don't be too long."

She felt him go still with surprise. Then his hand moved to her waist, steadying her. "I'll nae be," he murmured. For the watching crowd, surely. Not because he meant it.

Elinor turned and followed Ainsley toward the castle entrance and towards her chambers, very aware of the whispers starting up behind her.

"Here we are, me lady." Ainsley pushed open a heavy wooden door, revealing a bedchamber that made Elinor's breath catch.

It was large and luxurious. A big bed with thick coverings, purple drapes that hung from the edge of the ceiling to the floor, a large fireplace already crackling with warmth, and windows that looked out over the valley. Tapestries covered the walls with rich colors that had never been allowed to fade. And everywhere around the room, from the mantel, the windowsill, and even woven into the tapestries were small touches that suggested someone cared deeply about this space.

"It's lovely." Elinor moved to the bed, running her hand over the cover. Soft wool, richly embroidered. She forced herself to snap out of it.

Ainsley hurried to the door. "I'll have the lads bring up water right away. Are ye hungry, me lady? I could bring ye somethin' from the kitchen."

"Please." Elinor's stomach chose that moment to growl, loud enough that both women heard it. She felt the heat rise up her neck. "If it's not too much trouble."

"Never a trouble, me lady." Ainsley's smile was warm, genuine. "It's a joy tae have a lady in the castle again. The laird's been alone too long."

She left before Elinor could ask what that meant. Alone? He had an entire castle full of people. How could he be alone?

Servants arrived with a tub and buckets of steaming water. They worked efficiently, filling the bath and adding herbs that made the room smell of lavender and something sharper—rosemary, perhaps.

One woman laid out clean clothes, a shift and a robe, all far finer than anything Elinor had owned.

"Will ye need help undressin', me lady?" Ainsley asked.

Elinor hesitated. She'd grown accustomed to dressing herself. But the laces on her gown were tight, travel-worn and knotted, and she could feel the exhaustion pulling at her bones.

"Yes. Please. If you don't mind."

"Never a mind, me lady. That's what I'm here fer Ainsley's smile was warm as she moved behind Elinor, her fingers deft on the laces. "These are proper tangled. How long have ye been wearin' this?"

"Three days." Elinor felt herself relaxing under the girl's gentle touch. "We barely stopped during the journey."

"Three days!" Ainsley's voice held sympathy, not judgment. "Nay wonder ye look ready tae drop. The laird can be single-minded when he's set on somethin'." She worked another knot free. "There we are. Just a few more."

"You've served here long?" Elinor asked, grateful for the distraction from her own thoughts.

"Since I was a wee thing. Me Ma worked in the kitchens, and when I was old enough, the laird's mother took me on as a maid." Ainsley's voice softened. "She was a kind lady. Taught me how tae dae hair proper, how to care for fine fabrics. Said every woman deserved tae feel beautiful, nay matter her station."

The gown loosened, and Elinor felt the blessed relief of being able to breathe properly. "She sounds wonderful."

"She was." Ainsley helped ease the gown from Elinor's shoulders. "The laird, he's been different since she passed. Quieter. More closed off. But he's a good man, me lady. One of the best." Ainsley helped her out of her stays next, unlacing them with practiced efficiency. "If ye don't mind me sayin', me lady, ye're too thin. Have ye been ill?"

Heat crept up Elinor's neck. "No. My… father's household was not generous with meals."

"Ah." Understanding flickered across Ainsley's face. "Well, ye're here now. Cook will have ye fattened up proper in nay time. She'll be excited about havin' a lady tae cook fer again."

The kindness in her voice made Elinor's throat tight. "Thank you, Ainsley. For everything."

"Nay thanks needed, me lady." Ainsley handed her the clean shift. "Now, let's get ye intae this and intae that bath before the water goes cold. And after, I'll brush out yer hair proper. Looks like it could use some tender care."

As Ainsley helped her into the shift and then guided her toward the steaming tub, Elinor felt something unfamiliar bloom in her chest. Not just gratitude, but something warmer.

Acceptance. Belonging. The beginning of friendship.

“I’ll be back with food, me lady.” Ainsley said and left.

The bath was perfect, hot enough to make her skin pink, deep enough to sink into. She closed her eyes and let herself float for a moment, feeling tense muscles finally begin to relax.