Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
David froze in the doorway, one hand still on the latch. His eyes went wide with shock, then something else flickering across his face before he managed to school his expression into careful neutrality.
"I—" he started.
"Out!" Elinor sank lower in the water, crossing her arms over her chest even though the bathwater was cloudy with herbs. "What are you doing?"
"Comin' into me room." His voice was carefully controlled, but she could see color rising along his neck. "I didnae think, I didnae ken ye'd still be taking yer bath."
"You should have knocked!"
"It's me bedchamber, lass. I dinnae generally knock before enterin' me own space."
The logic of that penetrated through her embarrassment.
"Well, you should start knocking," she said, trying to maintain some dignity despite being naked in a bathtub. "Common courtesy would suggest ye knock."
"Common courtesy would suggest a wife wouldnae be surprised when her husband enters their shared chamber."
"Shared?" The word came out higher than she'd intended. "Ainsley said this was my room."
"Aye. Yer room. Which is also me room." David's eyes were fixed very determinedly on the ceiling. "Did ye truly think ye'd have separate quarters?"
The thought of the two of them, sharing the same space every day made heat rise up her neck. "You could have mentioned it."
"I thought it was obvious."
She wanted to smack the smirk of his lips.
"Nothing about this situation is obvious!"
"Fair point." He still wasn't looking at her, which she was grateful for. But his expression had become carefully neutral again, and she could not help wondering what he was thinking of their peculiar circumstances. "Are ye nearly done? I need tae speak tae ye about somethin'."
"I'll be done when you leave."
"I'm nae leavin'. This is me room."
"Then turn around at least!"
"I am turned around. I'm lookin' at the ceiling."
She huffed in frustration. "Fine. Just, don't move. And don't look."
She heard him sigh but couldn't see if he was obeying. The water sloshed as she stood, and she was suddenly very aware of every sound.
She reached for the linen towel Ainsley had left, wrapping it around herself quickly. It wasn't enough. The fabric clung to her wet skin, transparent in places.
She needed her chemise. It was laid out on the chair near the fire, but getting to it meant crossing half the room. In wet linen that left almost nothing to the imagination.
"Are ye decent?" David asked.
"No. Don't turn around."
"How long is this goin' tae take?"
"As long as it needs to!" She hurried to the chair, grabbed the chemise, and tried to pull it on over the wet towel. It stuck. She wrestled with it, cursing under her breath.
"Dae ye need help?"
"No! I don't need help. I need you to keep looking at the ceiling and not comment on every sound I make."
She finally got the chemise on, though it immediately began clinging to her damp skin. The towel dropped to the floor. She looked down at herself and felt heat flood her face. The thin fabric was practically transparent where it touched wet skin.
"I'm decent," she said, grabbing for the robe. "You can…"
David turned before she finished speaking.
His eyes found her. Widened. Then very deliberately moved to her face and stayed there, though she could see the muscle jumping in his jaw.
"Ye're––" he cleared his throat. "That's quite a chemise."
"It's wet." She yanked the robe on, tying it with fingers that trembled slightly. "You turned around too soon."
"Ye said ye were decent." His voice was rough, and despite his best efforts, his eyes kept darting down then jerking back up. "I need tae talk tae ye about the council meetin'."
"Can't this wait until I'm dressed?"
"Ye are dressed."
"Properly dressed. In actual clothes, not just," she gestured at her robe, "this."
His eyes dropped again, then he muttered something under his breath and turned to face the window. "The Council wants us tae throw a celebration. A Cèilidh. Tae honor our marriage and introduce ye properly tae the clan."
A celebration. Of course. Because our fraudulent marriage isn't complicated enough.
"When?" she asked.
"A week. Maybe less." He was still facing the window, shoulders tense. "It's tradition. The clan expects it. And it'll help make our marriage look more legitimate tae anyone the Duke sends sniffin' around."
"I see." Elinor moved to the wardrobe Ainsley had shown her earlier, searching for something, anything, to wear. "And what exactly does this celebration involve?"
"Food. Music. Dancin'. The clan comin' taegether tae meet their new lady." He paused. "Ye'd be expected tae help organize it. Tae show ye're capable of managin' the household."
"A test, then."
"Nay. Just tradition."
She found a dress, simple but clean. Started to unlace the robe, then remembered David was still in the room. "Turn around."
"I'm already turned around."
"Keep turning. Face the door."
She heard him move, heard his footsteps cross to the door. "Is this better?"
"Yes. Thank you."
She changed quickly, grateful for the familiar motions. Laces she could manage herself. Fabric that actually covered her. By the time she was done, she felt more like herself. More in control.
"I'll organize your celebration," she said. "But I'll need help. I don't know your customs. Your people. What's appropriate."
"Ainsley can help. And Malcolm, the steward. They ken what needs tae be done."
"Fine." She smoothed her skirts, checking that everything was in place. "You can turn around now."
He did, slowly. His eyes swept over her once, assessing, then returned to her face. "Better?"
"Much." She crossed her arms. "Is there anything else?"
"Aye." He hesitated, and she saw something like uncertainty cross his face. "The Cèilidh, it's important. Tae the clan. They need tae see us taegether. Need tae believe we're a properly married couple."
"I understand."
"Dae ye?" He took a step closer. "Because if this daesnae look real, if people start questionin' whether our marriage is legitimate, word will get back tae the Duke."
"Then we'd both be in danger." She held his gaze. "I know what's at stake, David. I was there when the Duke questioned us. I saw his face."
"Aye. Ye were." His expression softened slightly. "Ye did well, by the way. At Alnwick. The blush when ye mentioned the marriage bein' consummated, that was a nice touch."
"It wasn't a touch. I was mortified."
"Even better." His mouth quirked in what might have been a smile. "Natural is always more convincin' than rehearsed."
"I'll remember that when I'm pretending to be madly in love with you in front of your entire clan."
"Ye dinnae have tae pretend tae be madly in love. Just fond. Comfortable with me. Like a married couple should be."
Elinor thought of the past few days. The way they'd bickered and negotiated. The night in the inn when he'd touched her and she'd nearly used a favor to make him stop. The kiss on his cheek in the courtyard that had surprised them both.
Comfortable.
They were not comfortable with each other.
"We'll manage," she said finally. "We've managed everything else so far. Now leave."
She saw his shoulders shake slightly. Laughter, barely contained. "As me lady wishes."
The door closed behind him, and Elinor was finally, blessedly alone.
She sank onto the edge of the bed, pressing her hands to her hot cheeks. The way he'd looked at her in that wet chemise. The way his voice had roughened. The way she'd felt when his eyes had dropped, just for a moment, before he'd dragged them back up.
She felt something warm and unsettling that coiled low in her belly.
The next morning, Ainsley arrived with breakfast and an offer to show Elinor around the castle.
Elinor accepted gratefully, desperate for distraction from thoughts of David's face when he'd seen her.
David's voice dropping low. David's hands touching her in the inn, making her feel things she didn't want to name.
"This is the great hall," Ainsley was saying, gesturing to the massive space. "Where the clan gathers fer meals and celebrations. And through here is the kitchens. Oh, ye'll love Cook, me lady. She's terrifying but in the best way."
Elinor tried to focus. Tried to memorize the layout, the names of servants who curtsied as they passed, the details that would help her navigate this new life.
But her mind kept drifting.
The way his jaw clenched when hd looked at me. The way his eyes darkened.
The way he turned away like it was hard for him to do.
"—and this is the solar, where the ladies usually gather fer needlework, though there havenae been many ladies lately, and—me lady? Are ye listenin'?"
Elinor jerked her attention back to Ainsley. "Yes. Sorry. The solar. Fer needlework."
"Are ye alright?" Ainsley's freckled face was concerned. "Ye seem distracted."
"I'm fine. Just still tired from the journey."
"Of course." Ainsley's expression turned knowing. "And the laird probably kept ye up late, discussin' clan business and such."
"Something like that." Elinor's face heated. "Actually, where is David's office?"
"His study?" Ainsley pointed down a corridor. "East wing, second door on the left. But me lady, the laird daesnae like tae be disturbed when he's workin'. He's very particular about…"
But Elinor was already walking away, her skirts swishing around her ankles. She heard Ainsley call after her, something about protocol and proper procedure, but she ignored it.
She needed to see him. Needed to… confront him… demand he stop looking at her… like that?
Or ask him if he felt it too, that spark of something that had nothing to do with their practical arrangement?
You're being foolish.
But her feet kept moving down the corridor. Past servants who nodded respectfully. Past guards who watched with curious eyes. Until she stood in front of a heavy wooden door, her hand raised to knock.
She hesitated.
It was madness. She had nothing specific to say to him. No real reason to interrupt his work.
She thought of the three favors she still had. The way he'd touched her in the inn. The way he'd looked at her the night before, like he had wanted to do more than just look.
She thought of his voice in the throne room, steady and sure, protecting her. His promise in the courtyard that she was safe. The way he'd held her on the horse for three days, solid and warm at her back.
Her hand dropped to her side.
What am I doing?