Page 41 of The Laird’s Sinful Claim

CHAPTER TEN

"Malcolm, I need ye tae send word tae the MacKenzie chief. Tell him we're interested in discussin' terms fer the trade."

The door to David's study flew open without warning.

David's head snapped up, his hand instinctively moving toward the dirk he kept on his desk.

No one entered his study like that. Ever. His guards knew better. His Council knocked. Even Tristan had the sense to knock.

Elinor stood in the doorway, her chin lifted, her eyes flashing with something between determination and anger.

"We need to talk," she announced.

David stared at her for a moment, his mind struggling to shift from trade negotiations to whatever storm had just blown into his office. Malcolm bowed and quietly left the room.

Around him, papers covered his desk. Agreements with neighboring clans, ledgers tracking winter stores, correspondence about grain shipments that needed to be finalized before the first snow.

"Ye cannae just barge intae me study," he said finally.

"Can't I?" She stepped fully inside, closing the door behind her with a decisive click. "I thought that was how things worked in this castle. People just walking into rooms without warning."

Understanding dawned. David felt heat creep up his neck. "That was different."

"Different how?"

"That is me bedchamber. Our bedchamber." He set down his quill with deliberate care. "I've a right tae enter me own room."

"And I have a right to privacy when I'm bathing." She crossed her arms. "Which you violated."

"I didnae ken ye were still in the bath."

"That's why people knock."

"I told ye, I dinnae knock before enterin' me own chambers."

"Then maybe you should start!" Her voice rose slightly, echoing off the stone walls.

David glanced toward the door, acutely aware that his guards were stationed just outside. That servants passed through the corridor regularly. That this conversation was probably being overheard by half the castle.

"Lower yer voice," he said quietly.

"Don't tell me what to do."

"I'm nae tellin' ye what tae dae. I'm askin' ye tae be mindful that we have an audience."

That seemed to give her pause. Some of the fire in her eyes dimmed, replaced by calculation. She moved closer to his desk, her voice dropping to something just above a whisper.

"Fine. Then let's discuss this quietly." She planted her hands on his desk, leaning forward. "We're married now. Living in the same castle. Sharing the same bedchamber, apparently. And we need rules."

"Rules." David leaned back in his chair, studying her. She'd changed since yesterday's bath. Her hair was properly pinned, her gown fresh and neatly laced.

She looked every inch the lady she was supposed to be. Except for the stubborn set of her jaw and the way her fingers pressed into his desk like she was resisting the urge to throw something at him.

"Yes. Rules." She straightened slightly. "First, no kissing."

David's eyebrows rose. "Nay kissin'."

"Not unless it's absolutely necessary for appearances."