Page 66 of The Laird’s Sinful Claim

Her hands settled on his shoulders as he lowered her to the ground, and for a moment they stood there, close enough that he could count the freckles across her nose.

He led her to his old lookout point, his hand finding the small of her back automatically. The gesture was becoming habit—touching her, guiding her, making sure she was safe.

Dangerous habits, all of them.

They settled on the flat rock, their legs dangling over the edge, and David watched Elinor's face as she took in the full sweep of the valley. The wind caught her hair, sending it streaming behind her like a banner, and the afternoon sun turned her pale skin golden.

She looked like she belonged there. Like she'd always belonged there.

"I've never seen anything like this," Elinor said, her voice full of wonder. "In England, everything was so... contained. Ordered. Even the countryside felt tame somehow." She gestured at the wild expanse before them. "This is different. This is..."

"Free," David finished quietly.

"Yes." She turned to look at him, and something in her expression made his chest tighten. "Free."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, letting the wind and the view speak for them.

Below, the horse grazed on the sparse grass, its reins tied loosely to a low shrub. A bird of prey circled overhead—a golden eagle, David thought, though it was too far away to be certain.

"Tell me about growing up here," Elinor said suddenly. "What was it like?"

"Loud. Chaotic." David smiled at the memories. "Me faither was always entertainin' someone. Clan chiefs, English nobles, merchants from Edinburgh. The castle was always full of people and noise and life."

"You miss it."

It wasn't a question, but he answered anyway.

"Aye. I dae." He picked up a small stone, turning it over in his fingers. "Me maither also loved havin' guests. She said a castle should feel like a home, nae a fortress. So she made sure there was always music and laughter and good food." He tossed the stone, watching it arc through the air. "When she went, all that stopped. Me uncle... he had different priorities."

Elinor's hand found his, squeezing gently. "I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago."

"That daesnae make it hurt less."

No. No, it didn't.

David looked down at their joined hands, at the way her smaller fingers laced through his. He knew he should pull away—touching in private was against the rules she'd demanded. But that didn't feel like breaking rules. It felt like something else entirely.

"What about ye?" he asked, deflecting before the conversation could go deeper. "What was yer childhood like?"

Elinor's expression shuttered immediately, and David cursed himself for pushing. But after a moment, she spoke.

"Quiet. Very quiet." She stared out at the valley, her voice distant. "My father didn't like noise. Or laughter. Or anything that might suggest someone in his house was enjoying themselves." She paused. "My mother tried, at first. To make things... softer. But he broke that out of her eventually."

"Elinor."

"I wasn't allowed to leave the estate grounds. Ever." The words came faster now, as though she needed to get them out before she lost her courage. "As always, Father said it was for my safety, but really it was about control. He needed to know where I was every moment. What I was doing. Who I was talking to."

David's jaw clenched. "That's nae safety. That's imprisonment."

"I know that now. But then?" She shrugged. "Then I just thought that was how fathers were. How life was." She turned to look at him. "I'd never seen the sea. Never go to London, despite living only two days' ride away. Never attend a festival or a market day or even a neighbor's dinner party."

"What did ye dae? All those years locked in that house?"

"I read. When I could sneak books from Father's library without him noticing." A bitter smile crossed her face. "And I learned to be invisible. To move through rooms without drawing attention. To gauge his moods and adjust accordingly. To survive."

The casual way she said it made David want to ride back to England and show Lord Thomas Royse exactly what happened to men who caged their daughters like animals.