Page 93 of The Laird’s Sinful Claim

"Ye dinnae understand."

"Then help me understand!" Her voice broke. "Talk to me, David. Actually talk to me instead of shutting me out and making decisions for me and treating me like I'm a problem to be solved rather than a person to…"

She stopped.

"A person tae what?" David's voice was barely above a whisper.

"To care about," she finished quietly. "To actually care about."

"I dae care about ye." The words sounded torn from him. "That's why I'm daein' this. That's why I need tae keep ye safe."

Silence fell between them. Heavy and painful and full of things neither of them seemed able to say.

"I need tae go," David said finally. "The patrols."

"Of course." Elinor's laugh was hollow. "The patrols. Always something more important than actually dealing with this. With us."

"It's nae more important. It's necessary."

"Is it? Or is it just easier? Easier to ride out and check defenses than to stay here and face what you're feeling?"

David opened his mouth. Closed it. The muscle in his jaw worked like he was chewing through words he couldn't quite say.

His hands curled into fists. "Carin' about ye means I cannae afford tae lose ye. And keepin' ye safe means⁠—"

"Means pushing me away. Locking me up. Making me miserable in the name of protection." Elinor's voice was steady now, cold. "I understand perfectly.”

"Ye're twistin' me words."

"I'm stating facts." She could feel tears burning behind her eyes but refused to let them fall.

"So what are ye sayin'?" His voice was hard now.

"I'm saying I want a husband. Not a jailer." She met his eyes. "And until you can be that, and until you can actually let me in instead of shutting me out, I don't know what we're doing here."

The words hung between them like a blade.

David stared at her, his expression shifting through shock, hurt, anger, and something else she couldn't name.

"Fine," he said finally. His voice was flat. Empty. "If that's how ye feel."

"That's how I feel."

"Then I'll leave ye tae it." He turned toward his horse. "The guards will remain. Fer yer protection. But if ye want space from me, ye'll have it."

"David."

But he was already mounting, his movements jerky with barely controlled emotion. He looked down at her one last time, his face a mask of carefully controlled nothing.

"Stay inside the castle walls," he said. "That's nae negotiable."

Then he spurred his horse forward and rode out through the gates without looking back.

Elinor stood in the courtyard, watching him disappear. Around her, the guards and servants slowly returned to their work, pretending they hadn't just witnessed their lady and laird tearing strips off each other.

She should have gone inside. Should have retreated to her solar and processed what had just happened.

But her legs wouldn't move.