Page 45 of The Laird’s Sinful Claim

"The Cèilidh," Tristan said suddenly. "That's why the Council was so insistent, aye? They must have heard whispers too. If ye throw a proper celebration, make the marriage look solid and legitimate..."

"It might be enough tae quiet the rumors." David nodded slowly. "Or it might just give the Regent’s spies a chance tae dig deeper."

"What choice dae ye have?"

None. That was the truth of it. He had no choice but to push forward, to pray their lies held, to hope that Elinor was a good enough actress to convince an entire clan - and possibly royal observers - that their marriage was real.

"I need tae tell her," David said.

"Tell her what?"

"About the letter. About the danger." He moved toward the door. "She deserves tae ken what's comin'."

"David." Tristan's voice stopped him. "Are ye sure? Ye could handle this yerself. Protect her from kennin' how precarious things are."

"She's already in the middle of it. She has a right tae ken the truth." David thought about the rules she'd just demanded. The need for control, for honesty, for space to breathe. "Besides, if this goes wrong, she'll be the one payin' the price alongside me. She should at least ken what she's facin'."

Tristan nodded slowly. "Then I'll leave ye tae it. But David? Be careful how ye tell her. The lass is strong, but she's been through enough already."

"I ken that."

"Dae ye?" Tristan's expression was serious. "Because it looks like ye're about tae tell yer wife that the fragile safety ye promised her might be shattered at any moment. That cannae be an easy conversation."

"None of this is easy," David said quietly. "But it's necessary."

“Aye, me laird.”

He left his study, the Regent’s letter clutched in his hand, still thinking of how to tell his wife that their lies had caught his attention.

And that the consequences might be worse than either of them had imagined.