Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
David found Elinor in the great hall the next morning, surrounded by chaos.
Servants carried benches. Malcolm barked orders about table arrangements. Cook was arguing with someone about menu selections. And in the middle of it all, Elinor stood with a list in her hand, somehow managing to look both overwhelmed and completely in control.
"No, the tables go along the walls," she was saying. "We need space in the center for dancing. And Cook, I promise we'll discuss the desserts, but first I need to finalize the guest count with—David!"
She spotted him and her face brightened, even as she clutched her list tighter. "Thank God. Malcolm, could you give us a moment?"
The steward nodded and moved away, still directing servants. David crossed to Elinor, taking in the organized chaos around them.
"Looks like ye're in the thick of it," he observed.
"The Regent's arrival is in two days." She gestured at her list. "Two days, and we still need to finalize seating arrangements, confirm the musicians, decide on menu details, make sure the guest chambers are prepared—" She stopped, taking a breath. "I'm handling it. I promise."
"I ken ye are." He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Ye dinnae need tae dae it alone, though. If ye need help—"
"I have help. Malcolm's been wonderful. And Ainsley. And Cook, even if she's currently threatening to quit if I ask for one more menu change." Elinor's smile was strained. "I'm fine. Just busy."
"Too busy fer this?" David pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket.
"What is it?"
"Open it."
She unfolded the paper, her eyes widening as she saw what he'd drawn. It was her, from the paint fight—covered in color, laughing, surrounded by children. He'd captured the joy in her expression, the freedom in her posture.
"David." Her voice was soft. "You drew this?"
"Aye. Last night. After ye fell asleep." He felt heat creep up his neck. "I wanted ye tae have somethin' tae remind ye, even when ye're stressed about all this, that ye're allowed tae be happy. Tae laugh."
She looked up at him, her eyes suspiciously bright. "Thank you."
"Ye're welcome." He kissed her forehead. "Now, I'll let ye get back tae work. But if ye need anythin'—"
"I know where to find you." She tucked the sketch carefully into her bodice, close to her heart. "Thank you. Really."
He left her to her preparations, but not before noticing the way she touched the paper one more time, like she was checking it was real. Like it was something precious.
Later that afternoon, David found himself in their bedchamber, staring at the folded sheet tucked away in a chest.
The wedding sheet. Evidence of their first night together. The stain that proved consummation.
He should have disposed of it weeks ago. Should have had servants wash it and return it to the linen stores like any normal household item.
But something had stopped him.
Now, with the Duke’s impending visit and Langley's threat still looming, he knew exactly why he'd kept it.
He pulled the sheet from the chest, examining it in the afternoon light. The stain was small but visible. Unmistakable evidence of what had happened between them that first night.
"What are you daeing?"
David turned to find Elinor in the doorway, her list still clutched in hand but her expression curious and slightly concerned.
"Just organizin' some things."
"With our wedding sheet?" She moved closer, her eyes fixed on the fabric in his hands. Understanding dawned on her face, followed quickly by something that looked like dread. "Why do you have that?"
David hesitated.
Then decided honesty was better than evasion. They'd promised to be truthful with each other. "I'm storin' it. As proof."
"Proof of what?" But her voice suggested she already knew.
"That our marriage was consummated." He saw her expression shift, color draining from her cheeks, and continued quickly. "The Duke might ask. If he sends investigators or demands evidence that our marriage is legitimate. This—" He held up the sheet. "This is proof that cannae be disputed."
Elinor's face went pale. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly looking very small. "You're keeping it to show the Duke?"
"Only if necessary. Only if he demands it." David set the sheet down on the bed and moved toward her. "If it comes down tae provin' our marriage is real or havin' it annulled—"
"I understand." Her voice was tight. "It's necessary."
"I'm sorry." He pulled her into his arms, feeling her trembling slightly. "I wish none of this was necessary. I wish we could just—be married. Without havin' tae prove anythin' tae anyone."
"But we can't." She rested her head against his chest. "Because we lied to the regent. And now we have to live with the consequences of that lie."
They stood like that for a long moment, the weight of their situation pressing down on them both. David could feel the tension in her body, the worry that had been building all day as she prepared for the man’s arrival.
"Ye're nervous," David said finally, stating the obvious. "About the king. About what might happen when he arrives."
"Of course I'm nervous. Aren't you?"
"Aye. But worryin' willnae change anythin'. It'll just make the next two days miserable." He pulled back to look at her, brushing a thumb across her cheek. "Come with me. We both need a break from all this."
"David, I have so much to do."
"And it'll still be there when we get back. Malcolm kens what needs tae happen. The servants ken their jobs. Ye've organized everythin' brilliantly." He took her hand. "Come on. Fresh air will dae ye good. Help ye think more clearly."
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere peaceful. Somewhere we can both breathe." He squeezed her hand. "Trust me?"
She looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. "Always."
They rode out through the gates half an hour later, David on his grey stallion and Elinor on a gentle mare. The afternoon was clear and cold, the kind of day where the air felt sharp in your lungs and every breath seemed to wake something up inside you.
David led them north, toward a place he'd loved as a boy. A loch tucked into the hills, surrounded by trees and always peaceful, no matter what was happening in the rest of the world.
When it came into view, he heard her gasp of delight.
"It's beautiful."
"Aye. Me maither used tae bring me here when I was a bairn." David dismounted, then moved to help Elinor down. His hands lingered on her waist perhaps longer than necessary. "Said it was the one place she could think clearly. Where the noise of the castle couldnae reach her."
They walked to the edge of the water, where smooth stones lined the shore. The loch was still and clear, reflecting the sky like polished glass. Small ripples disturbed the surface where fish jumped for insects.
"I can see why she loved it," Elinor said softly. "It's like the rest of the world doesn't exist here."
"Aye." David picked up a stone, skipping it across the water. One, two, three skips before it sank. "I kept coming here after she left. Spent hours just—sittin'. Tryin' tae understand why things had tae be the way they were."
"Did you ever figure it out?"
"Nay. But I stopped needin' tae." He turned to her. "Eventually, I realized some things just are. And ye can either let them destroy ye or ye can find peace despite them."
Elinor was quiet for a moment, absorbing his words. Then she moved to the water's edge, crouching down to trail her fingers in it.
"It's cold," she said, pulling back quickly and shaking water droplets from her hand.
"It's a Highland loch in late autumn. What did ye expect? Warm bathwater?" David grinned. "But it's nae that bad once ye get used tae it."
"I'll take your word for it."
"Or—" David started unlacing his boots. "Ye could try it yerself."
"What are you doing?"
"Goin' fer a swim."
"Now? It's freezin’!"
"It's refreshin'." He pulled off his shirt, grinning at her scandalized expression. His ribs were healing well—the wound barely visible now. "Come on. When's the last time ye did somethin' just because ye wanted tae? Nae because it was expected or necessary or part of some plan?"
"I—" She stopped, really thinking about it. "Never. I've never done that."
"Then today's a good day tae start." He waded into the water, gasping as the cold hit his skin. "Christ, that's colder than I remembered."
"David MacDonald, you are insane."
"Aye. Probably." He dove under, the shock of cold water washing away every worry and tension he'd been carrying. When he surfaced, shaking water from his hair, he found Elinor still on the shore, watching him with a mix of amusement and concern. "Come on. The water's fine."
"You're a terrible liar."
"It gets better once ye're in. I promise."
She bit her lip, clearly debating with herself. Then, to his genuine surprise and delight, she started unlacing her gown.
"What are ye daein'?"
"If you can be insane, so can I." She stripped down to her shift, shivering in the cold air. "But if I die of cold, I'm haunting you."
"Fair enough."
She stepped into the water tentatively, gasping at the temperature. "This is madness. Absolute madness."
"Keep comin'. It gets easier."
She waded deeper, her teeth chattering audibly now. When the water reached her waist, David moved toward her, offering his hands.
"I don't know how to swim," she admitted, looking suddenly vulnerable.
"I'll teach ye." He pulled her closer, his hands on her waist. "First rule, dinnae panic. The water will hold ye if ye let it."
"That's not very reassuring when I can't feel me legs anymore."
"Trust me." He moved backward slowly, bringing her with him into slightly deeper water. "Just relax. Let yer body float."
She clutched at his shoulders, her body rigid with tension and cold. But gradually, as he supported her and talked her through it, she started to relax. Her breathing evened out. Her grip on his shoulders loosened slightly.
"There ye go," he murmured. "See? Ye're floatin'."
"You're holding me up."
"Barely. Ye're daein' most of it yerself." He adjusted his grip, supporting her less. "Feel that? That's the water holdin' ye. Nae me."
"It feels strange. But good."
He showed her how to move her arms, how to kick her legs to propel herself forward. She was clumsy at first, splashing more than swimming. But she was determined, and slowly she started to get it.
"I'm swimming!" She laughed suddenly, the sound bright and free and utterly joyful. "David, I'm actually—"
Her foot slipped on a submerged rock. She went under for just a moment before David pulled her up, both of them laughing and coughing and spitting out water.
"Ye alright?"
"Yes. That was—" She was still laughing, her wet hair plastered to her face. "That was terrifying and wonderful at the same time."
"Aye. That's usually how the best things are."
They were very close now, David's hands still on her waist to steady her. Her shift was plastered to her body, transparent in the water.
And suddenly the cold didn't matter anymore. Suddenly all David could think about was how beautiful she was, with water droplets on her eyelashes and her cheeks flushed from cold and laughter.
"Elinor," he said, his voice gone rough.
"Yes?"
"Dae ye have any more favors tae ask?"
She went still in his arms, her eyes searching his face. "Why?"
"Because if ye dinnae—" His hand moved up her side slowly, deliberately, feeling her shiver that had nothing to do with cold. "I'm goin' tae start touchin' ye. And I'm nae goin' tae stop unless ye tell me tae."
"I used all my favors." Her voice was breathless.
"I ken. So—" His thumb brushed the underside of her breast through the wet fabric, and he felt her breath hitch. "Dae ye have a favor tae ask if I touch ye here?"
"No." The word came out shaky.
"What about here?" His other hand moved lower, tracing the curve of her hip, her thigh.
"David…"
"Or here?" He pulled her closer, his hand splaying across the small of her back, bringing her body flush against his.
"We're in a loch." But her voice was breathless, wanting, her body melting into his.
"Aye. We are." He kissed her neck, feeling her pulse jump wildly beneath his lips. "Daes that bother ye?"
"It should."
"But daes it?"
"No." Her hands moved to his shoulders, gripping tight, her nails digging in slightly. "But we should go. Someone might see us."
"Nay one comes here. It's too far from the castle." He kissed along her jaw, savoring the way she melted against him despite the cold water. "It's just us, lass. Just us and the water and the sky and naethin' else matters."
He stopped, pulling back just enough to look at her. Making sure she was with him. Making sure this was what she wanted and not just something she was agreeing to because he was pushing.
"Say yes," he murmured. "Or tell me tae stop. But dinnae leave me in doubt about what ye want."
"Yes." Her eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with desire. "Yes to everything. Yes to you."
David kissed her then, deep and thorough and claiming. His hands explored her body through the wet shift, learning the curves and valleys all over again.
Finding the places that made her gasp. The touches that made her cling to him and moan into his mouth.
The water lapped around them, cold but somehow not cold enough to dampen the heat building between them.
"We should—" She pulled back, breathing hard. "We should get out of the water."
"Aye." His voice was rough as gravel. "We probably should."
They stumbled to shore, both shivering from cold and anticipation mixed together. David found their discarded clothes, using his shirt to dry Elinor off as best he could. But his hands kept straying, kept touching, kept exploring.
"We're going to freeze," she said, but she was laughing, her hands on his chest, tracing the lines of muscle.
"Nae if we move fast enough." He pulled her close, sharing body heat. "Come on. Back to the castle. Before we both catch our death out here."
They dressed quickly, their movements clumsy with cold and desire.
The ride to Keppoch was torture—every brush of their legs, every heated look exchanged making the tension between them wind tighter and tighter.