Page 117 of The Laird’s Sinful Claim

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.