Page 90 of The Laird’s Sinful Claim

Cares about ye.

Did he? Or was it still just duty? Responsibility? The obligation of a husband to protect his wife?

She didn't know. Couldn't know. Not when he wouldn't talk to her.

The Covenant brothers left after breakfast, each of them offering Elinor words of encouragement and promises to return soon. She stood in the courtyard and watched them ride out, feeling more alone than she had since arriving at Keppoch.

David was nowhere to be seen.

The days that followed were some of the loneliest Elinor had experienced since her marriage.

David was everywhere and nowhere. She'd see him in the courtyard, directing guards. In the great hall, speaking with his Council. On the battlements, surveying the walls.

But never in their bedchamber when she retired for the night.

Never at breakfast when she woke.

Never anywhere she could actually talk to him.

It was like living with a ghost. She could sense his presence—the servants did as he asked, the guards followed his commands, the entire castle moved to the rhythm of his heightened security measures.

But she never saw him. Never spoke to him.

Never touched him.

The rules she'd demanded seemed laughable now. No touching in private. No kissing unless necessary.

She'd give anything to have him break those rules again. To have him look at her the way he had before the attack. To have him kiss her the way he had in their bedchamber.

But he was gone. Distant. Locked behind walls she couldn't breach.

On the third day, Elinor tried to leave the castle to visit the village. The guards stopped her.

"I'm sorry, me lady," the captain said, his expression apologetic. "The laird's orders. Nay one leaves the castle without his express permission."

"I'm his wife."

"Aye, me lady. Which is why his orders about ye are especially strict."

Elinor wanted to argue. Wanted to demand they let her pass. But she could see the determination in the guard's eyes. The loyalty to David that overrode any discomfort about refusing her.

She was trapped. Again.

Just like in her father's house. Locked in by a man who claimed it was for her own good. For her protection.

Except this time, she couldn't even be angry about it. Because she knew David was acting out of fear, not cruelty. Out of a desperate need to keep her safe, not a desire to control her.

But knowing that didn't make it any easier.

She retreated to the solar Malcolm had prepared for her, the room David had given her as part of her favor. It was beautiful. Comfortable. Filled with things to occupy her time.

But it felt like a cage all the same.

Ainsley visited regularly, bringing food and gossip and companionship. But even the maid seemed subdued, aware of the tension blanketing the castle.

"The laird's just worried, me lady," she said on the fourth day, setting down a tray of tea. "He'll come around."

"Will he?" Elinor stared out the window at the courtyard below. She could see David there, speaking with his guards. Even from that distance, she could see the tension in his shoulders. "Or will he just keep shutting me out until there's nothing left between us?"