Page 69 of The Laird’s Sinful Claim

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Everywhere is so beautiful.”

The celebration was exactly what Elinor had hoped for, and David could barely enjoy a moment of it.

Not because anything was going wrong. Everything was perfect. The food was spectacular, the music lively, the clan clearly delighted with their new lady. Torches blazed along the garden paths, lanterns swung from the trees, and the great hall overflowed with people laughing and dancing and celebrating.

But David couldn't focus on any of it.

Because Elinor was everywhere except beside him.

He watched from the high table as she moved through the crowd with effortless grace, greeting families, remembering names, accepting gifts with genuine warmth.

She'd changed into a gown the color of deep sapphire that made her pale skin glow in the firelight, and some children had woven fresh heather into her hair.

She looked like a fairy queen. Beautiful and ethereal and completely captivating.

And every man in the hall had noticed.

"Ye're scowlin', David."

Tristan dropped into the seat beside him, a cup of ale in each hand. He offered one to David, who took it without looking away from where Elinor was currently speaking with the baker's wife.

"I'm nae scowlin'."

"Ye absolutely are. Ye've been watchin' her like a hawk fer the past hour." Tristan took a long drink. "Thought ye'd be pleased. She's daein' exactly what ye hoped she'd dae, winnin' over the clan."

"I am pleased."

"Ye look like ye want tae murder someone."

"I'm fine."

"Ye're really nae." Tristan followed his gaze. "Oh. Oh, I see it now."

"See what?"

"Ye're jealous."

David's hand tightened on his cup. "I'm nae jealous."

"Ye are. Look at ye." Tristan's grin was insufferable.

"She's been talkin' tae fer over an hour. She hasnae sat down once."

"Because she's daein' her duty. Which is what ye wanted her tae dae."

"Aye, but—" David stopped, realizing how ridiculous he sounded. "Never mind."

David set down his cup and stood, moving through the crowd with deliberate purpose. He kept his expression neutral, nodding at clansmen who called out greetings, but his focus never wavered from Elinor.

She was speaking with old Hamish now, listening intently as he told some story that involved dramatic hand gestures. She laughed at something he said, her whole face lighting up, and David felt that laugh like a physical touch.

God, ye are bonnie.

He was nearly to her when a young man, not more than twenty, with sandy hair and an earnest face, stepped into her path.

"Me lady," the boy said, his voice cracking slightly with nerves. "I was wonderin' if ye might spare a moment? Me maither wanted me tae thank ye fer the wonderful feast."