Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
"I'm tellin' ye, me lady, ye cannae serve pheasant and venison," Cook was saying, her hands on her ample hips. "It's too much meat. The Regent will think we're showin' off."
David found Elinor in the kitchens the next morning, surrounded by Cook and three kitchen maids, all of them looking at lists and arguing about portions.
"But what if he does not like one of the meats?" Elinor countered, her finger tracing down her list. "I don't want to serve something he doesn't like."
"Too much game makes us look like we're tryin' too hard."
David leaned against the doorframe, watching his wife hold her own against his formidable cook. Elinor had ink on her fingers and a smudge of flour on her cheek, and she'd never looked more beautiful.
"What daes me laird think?" Cook spotted him and gestured imperiously. "Tell her the menu's too complicated."
"Is it?" David moved into the kitchen properly, coming to stand beside Elinor. "What are we servin'?"
"Beef fer the main course," Elinor said, showing him her list. "With roasted vegetables.
Then pheasant as a second course. And perhaps some venison, in case he does not like one of the previous courses.
Fish—salmon, fresh from the river. Bread, cheese, fruit.
And for dessert—" She glanced at Cook. "We're still deciding. "
"Sounds perfect tae me. It's a king." David kept his voice mild. "Or his regent, at least. We should show him proper Highland hospitality. Which means abundance. Quality. Showin' him what Keppoch can provide."
Cook muttered something under her breath but nodded. "Fine."
After Cook and the maids returned to their work, David pulled Elinor aside. "Ye're daein' well. Managin’ all this."
"I'm terrified." She kept her voice low. "What if something goes wrong? What if the food isn't right?"
"Then we'll handle it." He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Taegether. Like we handle everythin' else."
"Together." She leaned into his touch. "I like the sound of that."
"So dae I." He kissed her forehead. "Now, show me the rest of what ye've planned. Let’s make sure we havenae forgotten anythin'."
They spent the next hour going over every detail. The menu. The seating arrangements. The guest chambers that had been prepared. The musicians and the wine that had been selected.
Elinor had thought of everything.
"Ye're goin' tae be a brilliant Lady of Keppoch," David said as they reviewed the final list. "Ye already are."
"I just don't want to embarrass you."
"Ye could never embarrass me." He took her hand. "Ye're brilliant and capable and the Duke is goin' tae see exactly what I see, a woman who belongs here. Who's made this castle a home."
Her eyes shone with emotion. "Thank you. For believing in me."
"Always, lass. Always."
The royal party arrived the next afternoon.
David stood in the courtyard with Elinor at his side, watching the royal banners approach through the gates. His hand found the small of her back, a gesture of support and solidarity.
"Ready?" he murmured.
"No. But let's do this anyway."
The regent dismounted first, his height and shrewd eyes commanding attention. Behind him came his advisors and guards, all in the king's livery.
"Laird MacDonald." The regent's voice was formal. "Thank you fer receiving us."
"Yer Grace." David bowed, Elinor curtsying beside him. "Welcome tae Keppoch. Ye remember me wife, Lady Elinor."
"Me lady." The regent's gaze swept over Elinor with assessment. "I dae."
"Yer Grace." Elinor's voice was steady despite the tension David could feel radiating from her.
The regent's expression gave nothing away. "Perhaps we might speak privately, Laird MacDonald? There are matters we should discuss."
"Of course." David had expected this. "Me study is prepared. If ye'll follow me?"
He caught Elinor's eye, saw her nod understanding. She would oversee the king's party being settled while he dealt with the more difficult conversation that awaited him.
In his study, the regent wasted no time on pleasantries.
"I received a letter from Sir Edmund Langley," he said as soon as the door closed. "Making some rather serious accusations about yer marriage."
"I'm aware Langley has been vocal about his grievances."
"He claims Lady Elinor was his betrothed. That you stole her from an auction where her father was selling her tae the highest bidder." The regent's eyes were sharp. "He claims yer marriage is a fraud designed tae circumvent the wishes of the Regent."
David kept his expression neutral, his heart pounding. "Langley is a jealous man who cannae accept that he lost."
"Lost what, exactly?"
"A competition." David moved to pour whisky, offering a glass to the king.
"Elinor's faither, Lord Royse, was in financial difficulty.
He wanted tae ensure his daughter married well.
So he invited several suitors tae meet her.
Tae present their cases. It was nae an auction, it was a gathering of interested parties. "
"And you were one of those interested parties?"
"Aye. As ye ken, Lord Royse had decided tae break off our betrothal tae try tae obtain more coin." The lie came smoothly now, practiced. "When I heard he was inviting other suitors, I attended. Tae ensure me own case was heard."
"And Langley?"
"Was one of many. He offered fer her hand, aye, and had already showed an interest in the past. But his offer was, insufficient.
Both in terms of settlement and in terms of what he could provide fer Elinor's future.
" David took a sip of whisky. "Lord Royse finally accepted me renewed offer.
Langley has been bitter about it ever since. "
The regent studied him for a long moment. "That's a very different story from what Langley told."
"Aye. Because Langley's version makes him the wronged party instead of the unsuccessful suitor.
" David met his gaze steadily. "But the facts are clear.
I married Elinor with her faither's blessin’.
Our marriage is legal and legitimate. And Langley's accusations are naethin' more than the bitter complaints of a man who didnae win. "
"And you expect me tae believe this?"
"I expect ye tae investigate and come tae yer own conclusions.
" David's voice was firm. "Talk tae Lady Elinor.
She'll confirm everythin' I've said. Talk tae Lord Royse if ye wish, though I warn ye—he's a difficult man and his version may vary dependin' on how much he's had tae drink.
But the marriage is real. Legal. And consummated. "
The Regent's eyebrow rose. "You're very certain."
"Aye. Because it's true."
"Then you won't mind providing proof."
David's chest tightened. He'd known that was coming.
"What kind of proof did ye have in mind?"
"The wedding sheet." The regent's tone was matter-of-fact. "Standard practice when legitimacy is questioned. Ye dae have it, I presume?"
"Aye." David set down his glass.
"Then fetch it."
David left his study and went to their bedchamber, his mind churning. This was necessary. He knew it was necessary.
He found the sheet where he'd stored it, folded carefully in the chest. The stain was still visible, proof that couldn't be disputed.
When he returned to his study, he found Elinor had joined them. Her face was pale, her hands clasped tightly together.
"Elinor," he said carefully. "The His Grace has requested—"
"I know." Her voice was quiet. "Malcolm told me."
"Ye dinnae have tae be here fer this."
"Yes, I do." She lifted her chin, that stubborn determination he loved so much evident in every line of her body. "If we're doing this, we're doing it together."
The regent stood as David approached, the sheet in his hands. "Lady Elinor. This is, uncomfortable, I ken. But necessary to settle the matter of yer marriage's legitimacy."
"I understand, Yer Grace." Elinor's voice was steady despite the flush rising in her cheeks.
David unfolded the sheet, showing the stain to the king. The man examined it briefly—professionally, David noted, without leering or inappropriate commentary.
"This appears legitimate," the regent nodded.
"Because it is legitimate," David said firmly. "As is our marriage."
"So it would seem." The regent stepped back. "Very well. I'm satisfied that yer marriage has been consummated. Combined with yer explanation of the circumstances, and barring any evidence tae the contrary from Lady Elinor, I see nay reason tae question its legitimacy further."
Elinor let out a breath David hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Thank you, Your Grace."
"Though I would like tae hear yer version of events, me lady." The regent turned to her. "Just tae ensure there was nay... coercion involved."
"Of course." Elinor's voice was clear. "I was betrothed to David, but my father wanted more coin and broke off the betrothal.
He invited several suitors tae meet me. David was among them, for he came as soon as he heard.
He was…" She glanced at David. "He was kind.
Respectful. He offered not just financial security but freedom.
The chance to have a life of my own rather than simply being someone's property. "
"And Langley?"
"Sir Edmund was… persistent. But his interest felt more like possession than affection." Elinor's voice was carefully neutral. "I did not wish to marry him. When my father chose David again, I was relieved."
"Even though MacDonald is Scottish? Even though it meant leaving England?"
"Even though." Elinor's smile was slight but genuine. "I've found more happiness here in a few months than I had in years under my father's roof."
The regent studied her for a long moment. Then nodded. "Very well. I'm satisfied. The accusations against yer marriage appear to be without merit."
David felt tension he hadn't realized he'd been carrying drain from his shoulders. "Thank ye, Yer Grace."
"However," the Regent's tone shifted. "I will be watching, Laird MacDonald. If any evidence emerges that suggests you've deceived us, that this marriage is nae what ye claim, there will be consequences."
"I understand."
"Good." The regent moved toward the door. "I shall rest then before dinner."
Dinner was magnificent.
Cook had outdone herself. The beef was perfect, tender and flavorful. The pheasant was seasoned to perfection. The salmon was fresh and delicious. And the dessert—a rich cake with preserved fruit—was exactly the right balance of sweet and tart.
The regent ate with obvious enjoyment, complimenting each course. David watched Elinor's tension ease with each positive comment, saw her beginning to relax into her role as hostess.
"This is excellent, Lady MacDonald," the regent said after finishing his second helping of beef. "You've clearly put considerable effort intae making us feel welcome."
"Thank you, Your Grace." Elinor's smile was genuine now. "I wanted to show you proper Highland hospitality."
"Ye've succeeded admirably." He raised his glass. "Tae yer health and happiness. Both of ye."
David raised his own glass, meeting Elinor's eyes across the table. Relief and pride shone in her expression.
"The castle feels very lived in," the regent continued. "Warm. Like a home rather than a fortress."
"That's all Elinor's daeing," David said. "She's made Keppoch a home in ways it hasnae been since me maither lived here."
"High praise indeed." The Regent looked between them. "Ye seem genuinely fond of each other. It's refreshing. In me experience, most political marriages are far more..."
"Cold?" Elinor supplied.
"I was going tae say practical. But yes." The Duke set down his glass. "Yers appears tae be something more."
"It is," David said simply. "She's me wife. Me partner. The woman I chose. And I dinnae regret that choice fer a moment."
Elinor's eyes shone with emotion. "Nor do I."
The Duke watched them for a moment, something almost like approval crossing his face. "Well. I'm satisfied. Langley's accusations appear tae be naething more than the wounded pride of a rejected suitor."
"So we have yer blessin’?" David asked carefully.
"Ye have me acknowledgment that yer marriage is legitimate. As fer blessing—" The Regent smiled slightly. "That's between ye and God, Laird MacDonald. But ye willnae face any interference from the Crown. Not over this matter, at least."
Relief flooded through David so intensely he nearly sagged in his chair. "Thank ye, Yer Grace."
After dinner and music, servants showed the Regent and his party to their chambers. David and Elinor stood in the corridor, watching them go.
"We did it," Elinor whispered. "He believed us."
"Aye." David pulled her into his arms, not caring who might see. "Ye were perfect. Everythin' ye said, the way ye presented yerself, perfect."
"I just told him the truth." She pulled back to look at him. "Or a version of it, at least. The part about finding happiness here, that was true."
"Aye. It was." He kissed her forehead. "Come on. Let's retire. It's been a long day."
"The Duke is still here," Elinor pointed out. "Staying the night."
"Aye. But he's satisfied. The worst is over." David took her hand. "We just need to get through breakfast tomorrow, and then he'll leave. And this whole mess will be behind us."
"I hope you're right."
"I am." He said it with more confidence than he felt. Because even though the Duke seemed satisfied, even though they'd passed this test, Langley was still out there.
Still plotting. Still determined to take Elinor back.
And David had a feeling this wasn't over yet.
Not by a long shot.