Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
"No."
The room was smaller than Elinor had expected. A single window overlooked the darkened stable yard, and a washstand occupied one corner. But it was the bed, the single, not particularly large bed, that captured her complete attention.
David closed the door behind them, the latch clicking into place with a finality that made her skin prickle. "Nay?"
"There's only one bed."
"Aye." He moved past her to set his saddlebag on the floor near the washstand. "That's generally what happens when a married couple takes a room."
"We're not…" She stopped herself. They were married. The chaplain had said the words. She'd agreed to them. "This won't work."
"The bed looks sturdy enough tae me."
"I meant the arrangement." Elinor turned to face him, lifting her chin. "You'll sleep on the floor."
David's hands stilled on the buckle of his sword strap. He looked at her, one dark eyebrow rising. "Will I?"
"Yes."
"That sounds like a demand, lass."
"It is a demand." She kept her voice firm, even as her heart hammered against her ribs. "I'm your wife. What I say should be important to you."
"It is important tae me." He unbuckled the strap with deliberate slowness, setting it within easy reach of the bed. "But I dinnae take demands. From anyone."
"I'm not just anyone."
"Ye are me wife. Aye, ye've said." He turned to face her fully, crossing his arms over his chest. "But bein' me wife daesnae give ye the right tae order me about like a servant."
"I'm not ordering you like a servant. I'm telling you I won't share a bed with you." She could hear the edge creeping into her voice. Heat flooded her cheeks. "You'll sleep on the floor, and I'll take the bed. End of discussion."
David studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he smiled. It wasn't a kind smile.
"Is this one of yer favors, then?"
Elinor blinked. "What?"
"Ye said ye wanted three favors. Three times when I'd dae what ye asked, nay questions." He tilted his head slightly. "Is this one of them?"
She hesitated, seeing the trap too late. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Everythin'." He took a step closer. "If this is one of yer favors, I'll sleep on the floor. Gladly. Nay argument. But if it's nae, if ye're just makin' demands without willin' tae pay the price fer them, then I'm takin' the bed."
"That's not fair."
"Life's nae fair, lass. Ye should ken that better than most."
She wanted to argue. Wanted to tell him he was being unreasonable, cruel even. But the worst part was that he was right.
She'd negotiated for three favors precisely because she'd known he wouldn't simply do whatever she asked. And now she had to decide, was sleeping alone worth one of those precious bargaining chips?
"Fine," she said tightly. "It's not a favor."
"Then I'm takin' the bed." He moved to the washstand and began unlacing his shirt. "Ye're welcome tae share it. Or ye can sleep on the floor. Choice is yers."
"What?! Why you're… you' re insufferable!"
"So ye've mentioned." His shirt came off, revealing broad shoulders and a lean, muscled back crisscrossed with faint scars. "Were ye plannin' tae stand there all night? Or are ye goin' tae get ready fer bed?"
Elinor's mouth went dry. She'd seen men's bare chests before, farm workers in summer, her father's guards training in the yard. But somehow this felt different. More intimate. David wasn't a stranger laboring in a field. He was her husband, undressing in the room they were meant to share.
"Turn around," she commanded.
"What?"
"Turn around. I need tae undress."
David glanced over his shoulder at her, and she saw amusement flicker across his face. "Ye're me wife, lass. Ye dinnae need tae hide from me."
"I'm not hiding. I'm asking for basic courtesy."
"And I'm askin' ye tae get over yer modesty and get ready fer bed."
"Turn. Around."
Something in her voice must have gotten through to him. His expression shifted, the amusement fading into something more serious. He turned to face the window, presenting her with his back.
"Better?" he asked.
"Yes. Thank you."
Elinor's hands shook as she reached for the laces of her gown. She'd dressed herself that morning, as her maid had been dismissed when her father had decided she no longer needed her and that he could use the money. But her fingers felt clumsy, thick with nervousness.
She glanced at David's back. He stood very still, his hands braced on the windowsill. The candlelight caught the edges of old scars, white lines against tanned skin. Evidence of a life she knew nothing about. Battles fought, wounds endured.
She forced her attention back to her laces. The gown loosened, slipping from her shoulders. She caught it before it could pool on the floor, stepping out of it carefully and draping it over the room's single chair. Her stays came next, then her petticoats, until she stood in nothing but her shift.
The fabric was thin, too thin. She could feel the cold air against her skin, raising goosebumps along her arms.
"Are ye done?" David's voice was rougher than it had been.
"Almost. Don't turn around!"
"I didnae turn around." His voice was closer now. Right behind her. "But I can hear ye movin'. Are ye finished or nae?"
Her hair had got caught in a button. She struggled with it for a moment, cursing under her breath.
"Dae ye need help?"
"No."
"Ye're sure? It sounds like ye dae."
"I don't need help." She yanked the shift down over her head, finally freeing her hair. "There. I'm decent."
She turned, meaning to tell him he could look and found him already facing her.
"I thought I told you not to turn around!"
"Ye did. But then ye said ye were decent." His eyes weren't on her face. They were tracking down the line of her throat, the curve of her shoulder where the shift had slipped slightly.
"You—" The words died in her throat as she realized what he was seeing. The shift was thin and with the candlelight behind her, it was probably rather transparent. "Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like… " She couldn’t find the right words. Instead she crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hide herself. "Just stop."
David's eyes finally met hers. She expected mockery. Expected him to make some crude comment about her body or her modesty. Instead, his expression was unreadable.
"Get in the bed, lass," he said quietly. "Before ye freeze."
He turned away, giving her privacy, and busied himself with removing his boots.
Elinor scrambled into the bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin. The mattress was lumpy but warmer than the air.
She watched David finish undressing. He kept his inner trews on, thankfully, and she tried very hard not to notice the way muscles moved beneath his skin.
When he approached the bed, she tensed.
"I'm just gettin' in," he said. "Calm down."
"I am calm."
"Ye're clutchin' those blankets like they're the only thing standin' between ye and certain death."
"Maybe they are."
He snorted, a sound that might have been laughter. "Ye've a dark sense of humor fer a lady."
He settled into the bed, and Elinor immediately felt the shift in weight. The mattress dipped toward him, and she had to resist the urge to roll away. To put as much distance as possible between them.
But there wasn't much distance to be had. The bed was meant for one person, perhaps two if they were comfortable with each other. And she and David were decidedly not comfortable with each other.
"Ye've taken all the pillows," David observed.
Elinor looked at the wall she'd constructed between them, three pillows stacked in a line down the center of the bed. "So I have."
"I need at least one."
"Take one from the wall, then."
"The wall?" He propped himself up on one elbow, looking at her construction with something like amusement. "Is that what this is?"
"Yes. Your side." She pointed to his half of the bed. "My side. And never the two shall meet."
"Lass, I'm too big tae fit on this bed with a wall in the middle."
"Then you should have chosen the floor."
"And ye should have used one of yer favors." He reached out and plucked the top pillow from the wall, settling it under his head. "This is mine now."
"Fine." Elinor grabbed the remaining two pillows and clutched them to her chest. "These are mine."
"Ye dinnae need two pillows."
"I dae if I'm building proper fortifications."
"Fortifications." He was definitely laughing now, she could hear it in his voice. "Against what? Me?"
"Yes."
"I wouldnae touch ye."
"I'm making sure you keep that promise."
David was quiet for a moment. Then she felt him move, felt the mattress shift as he rolled toward her. His hand came down on top of her pillow wall, pushing it flat.
"What are you doing?" Elinor tried to prop the pillows back up, but he was stronger.
"Gettin' comfortable. These pillows are in me way."
"They're supposed to be in your way!"
"Well, they're nae daein' a very good job of it." He tossed one pillow to the floor. "There. Now we both have one."
"I had two!"
"Now ye have one. Life's full of disappointments."
Elinor glared at him, but it was hard to maintain proper outrage when he was lying there looking entirely too pleased with himself. "You're enjoying this."
"Maybe a little." He shifted, getting comfortable. "Ye make it easy."
"I make it—" She turned her back to him, pulling the blanket up over her shoulder. "Go to sleep."
"Gladly. If ye'd stop squirmin' around."
"I'm not squirming."
"Ye're absolutely squirmin'. Ye've moved at least six times in the past minute."
She had been moving. Trying to find a position where she couldn't feel his warmth, couldn't hear his breathing, couldn't think about the fact that he was right there, close enough to touch.
"I can't sleep," she admitted finally.
"Why nae?"
"Because you're here."
"I'm nae leavin'."
"I know that." She twisted again, the chemise tangling around her legs. "But I can't relax with you so close."
"Ye're goin' tae have tae get used tae it eventually. We're married now."