Page 50 of The Laird’s Sinful Claim

CHAPTER TWELVE

"You'll be cold," Elinor said, looking at the cloak he'd draped over her shoulders.

"I'm fine. I'm used tae it." David gestured toward the castle entrance. "Come on. It's gettin' late. We should sleep."

"Alright."

They walked back through the side door, the warmth of the castle interior a welcome relief after the chill of the garden. Their footsteps echoed softly in the quiet corridors as they made their way toward the stairs.

"The clan seemed to accept me," Elinor said quietly. "Eventually."

"Some did. Some will take longer." David's hand was still at the small of her back, guiding her. "But they'll come around. Ye did well taenight."

"I ate too much," she mumbled.

"Ye ate a normal amount fer someone who hasnae been fed properly in God kens how long." His tone was matter-of-fact. "Dinnae apologize fer it."

They reached the staircase and began to climb.

At the top of the stairs, they turned down the familiar corridor toward their bedchamber. But Elinor slowed, a question forming on her lips.

"Which room is mine?"

David paused at the threshold of their bedchamber, his hand on the door latch. He turned slowly, finding Elinor standing in the corridor, her arms crossed, that stubborn lift to her chin.

"What dae ye mean, which room is yers?"

"My room." She gestured vaguely down the hall. "The one you promised me. Where is it?"

Understanding dawned, followed quickly by something that might have been amusement if he weren't so tired. "Ah. That."

"Yes. That." Her eyes narrowed. "You agreed to give me my own room. As part of the favor."

"I did, aye." He stepped fully into their bedchamber, leaving the door open behind him. "And ye'll have it."

"Then show me where it is."

"Tomorrow."

"Why not now?"

"Because it's late, lass. And we're both exhausted." He moved to the washstand, pouring water into the basin. "Besides, I need tae speak with Malcolm about which room would suit ye best."

Elinor followed him inside, though she remained near the doorway. "You haven't even chosen it yet?"

"I only agreed tae it this mornin'." He splashed water on his face, the cold helping clear the fog of exhaustion. "Give me time tae make proper arrangements."

"Fine." She moved closer, but stopped several feet away, as though maintaining distance was some kind of shield. "But it needs to have a bed."

David went very still, water dripping from his jaw. He reached for a towel, drying his face with deliberate slowness as he processed her words.

"Nay."

"No?" Her voice rose slightly. "What do you mean, no?"

"I mean nay. The room ye asked fer willnae have a bed." He set the towel down, turning to face her fully. "Ye can have a space that's yers. A solar, a study, whatever ye want tae call it. But ye'll nae be sleepin' there."

"That's not what I asked for."