Chapter Ten
Instead of responding to her terse plea, Royal frowned at their joined hands, his thumb absently gliding over her skin. Ainsley was too uncomfortable with the silence to enjoy the sensation.
“Are you all right?” she finally asked.
It had been horribly difficult and embarrassing to tell him the ugly story. She certainly wouldn’t blame him for being embarrassed, too.
He glanced up. “I’m just trying to grasp the implications of all this. It’s rather complicated.”
Oh, blast.
That sounded like a dodge. Or, perhaps—
“Royal, are . . . are you involved with someone else?” she asked, trying not to sound as appalled as she felt.
He scoffed. “Ainsley, between trying to be a good father and dealing with the demands of Logan’s business, I’m run ragged. The fair maidens of Glasgow are not my priority.”
“I wouldn’t blame you if you were,” she said. “It’s not as if you ever thought you’d see me again.”
Instead of answering, he reached up and tugged on the bow under her chin. “Why are you still wearing this blasted hat?” He untied her bonnet and tossed it in the general direction of a chair by the fireplace. It hit the edge of the seat and tumbled to the floor.
“That’s a new hat,” she protested. “And it was quite
expensive.” She’d made a point of going on a buying spree before she left London. God only knew when she’d have access to her funds again, if ever.
Royal tipped her chin up. “Lass, you are completely daft if you think I would waste my time capering after other women. If you don’t know that by now, you’re not as smart as I thought.”
“You’re not exactly the sort to caper at the best of times,” she said, trying to make a joke.
Better to joke than to cry. Most days, her mood was so flat that she wondered if anything short of an explosion could jolt her back to life. But after glimpsing Tira and sharing her misfortunes with Royal, a tide wall had been breached. Her emotions were surging with an intensity that almost overwhelmed her.
His smile was tender as he stroked a thumb across her cheek. “No capering with this leg.”
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” she said after a few moments of fraught silence. “It’s such an ugly story.”
He leaned in, so close she could see gold flecks in his green gaze. “My only discomfort was on your behalf, love. Never think I blame you for anything.”
She had to repress the impulse to kiss him, because the thought of kissing any man, even Royal, still made her a little nervous. “Sir, you’re making my eyes cross.”
“Imp.” He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose before sitting back. “I mean it, Ainsley. You can’t blame yourself for what Cringlewood did. The bastard should be drawn and quartered.”
“I’m very grateful for your support, truly. I also know the immensity of what I’m asking of you. I’ve caused so much trouble for you these past few years, and it’s hideous of me to try to take advantage of you again.”
His smile turned rueful. “Any number of times I have wished for nothing more than for you to take advantage of me.”
Her heart sank. “But no longer?”
He hesitated a fraction too long. “As I said, it’s a complicated situation.”
Ainsley swallowed her stark sense of dismay. She refused to make him feel guilty, not after everything he’d done for her. For Tira’s sake, she would
do the right thing.
“I understand, and I’m sure I’ll manage somehow. If . . . if you’ll just let me spend a little time with my daughter before I leave Glasgow, I’d be immensely grateful. I promise I won’t make any trouble.”
His brows snapped together. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You obviously don’t want to marry me. I’m trying to say that I understand and I’ll manage,” she replied with what she thought was commendable patience.
“Ainsley, I never said I wouldn’t marry you.”
Her heart kicked out a hard thump. “Then you will?”
When he hesitated again, she almost shrieked in frustration. “Royal, will you please
just tell me exactly what you do mean?”
He grimaced. “Sorry. It’s not you. I’m worried about what this will mean for Tira.”
She’d thought endlessly about that too, in the dark reaches of the night. “Are you afraid I won’t be a fit mother? Because you must know I would never hurt her.”
“Don’t be daft. I know how much you love her. But that’s the point. How do we continue protecting Tira from Cringlewood if you’re in her life?”
“I don’t think that’s a concern anymore. It’s been five months, and simply everyone
believes Tira is your daughter. Your family did a splendid job in that respect.”
Ainsley felt quite confident in that regard. There’d not been a speck of gossip about her long absence from London. Some might not understand her reasons for jilting Cringlewood, but her friends thought her long exile in Scotland punishment enough.
“Unfortunately, people might make the connection once they see you together,” Royal said. “Tira looks exactly like you.”
“She’s just a baby.”
“One who has your coloring, including your eyes.”
“All right, but I don’t think that’s an insurmountable obstacle. People generally believe what they’re led to believe, and they all clearly believe Tira is a Kendrick. Several of your brothers have dark hair and blue eyes, so we can say she takes after them.”
Royal’s only reply was a grunt.
“It’s not like we ever have to visit London,” she pressed, “and hardly anyone I know comes to Scotland, including my family.”
Not that anyone in her family would ever talk to her again.
“Ainsley, you do remember that you hate Scotland, don’t you?” he asked. “Are you really prepared to spend the rest of your life here, as the wife of a common younger son?”
Royal didn’t believe she could give up her pampered existence, but he was wrong. “I’m sure I’ll adjust.”
When he hauled himself up and walked over to replenish his glass, Ainsley marshaled patience. Given everything he knew about her, including that she’d given up her daughter partly to return to her old life, his caution was entirely understandable.
When he again propped a shoulder against the mantel, she sensed he was putting distance between them.
“Ainsley, you’ve spent your life in the lap of luxury. I’m not a rich man, by any means, nor is Glasgow the most exciting city in the world.”
“What good did that pampered life do for me?” she challenged. “It couldn’t keep me safe, or even give me the freedom to make my own choices. If anything, the fact that I’m an heiress has made my life more complicated.”
He pondered that for a few moments. “I don’t wish to pry, but I’m not sure what the arrangements are regarding your fortune.” He held up a hand before she could reply. “And I don’t give a confounded hang about your money. It won’t affect my decision.”
She smiled at him. “I know, and I don’t mind telling you. I’ll be worth fifteen thousand pounds a year if I marry an acceptable suitor. Papa will also gift me with a prime hunting box from his grandmother, along with a portion of my maternal grandmother’s jewels.”
“What if you marry someone not acceptable?”
“Then my father will ensure that I receive not a shilling.”
She was rather proud of how unconcerned she sounded, even though she felt sick even saying the horrifying words. But she’d been repeating them in her head for weeks now, so she would get used to it. The idea of being poor and dependent was daunting. But if she had to be dependent on anyone, she would choose Royal in a heartbeat.
He shook his head. “I always thought your father doted on you.”
“So did I,” she said dryly.
“That’s bloody awful.” He hesitated. “You’re truly sure about this? Because you must know it won’t be easy to give up everything you’re used to, including your family.”
Ainsley stood and joined him by the fireplace. She placed a hand flat on his chest and met his cautious gaze.
“Royal, I only desire two things. First, I want to be safe from Cringlewood. Even more importantly, I want to be with my daughter. These five months away from her . . .” Her throat went tight, forcing her to pause for a moment. “It’s just about killed me.”
He covered her hand. “I knew you would miss her, of course, but I thought you’d be able to move on with your life, knowing she was safe with us.”
“I tried, I truly did.” Her voice cracked. “But I simply cannot go on without—”
He pressed a kiss to her brow. “You don’t have to say more. I understand completely.”
“I’m sorry,” she choked out. “It’s shameless the way I’m using you—asking you to agree to a sham marriage just so I can be with my daughter. I can’t imagine what you must think of me.”
She was so wrapped up in her bout of self-pity that it took several moments to realize he’d turned into a block of stone. “What’s wrong?”
“You said ‘sham marriage’?”
Ainsley grimaced. “Oh, blast. I didn’t mean . . . Royal, you must know how fond I am of you.”
“Thank you. I think.”
“Sorry,” she said. “I suppose that rather sounded like I was talking about my pet pug, didn’t it?”
He frowned. “Do you have a pet pug?”
“Heavens, no.”
“Good, because the terriers would tear it apart.”
“Oh, I forgot about them,” she said.
“In any case, this isn’t about the dogs. It’s about how you feel about me
. If we have any chance of making a marriage work—”
“Does that mean you’ll do it?” She clutched his hand with both of hers.
When he flushed under his tan, she realized she’d placed his hand firmly against her breast. With a weak smile, she let go and began awkwardly fussing with the collar of her gown.
Royal looked regretful. Then he cleared his throat and got rather brisk. “I will never abandon you, Ainsley, but I would be grateful to know how you actually feel about me, as a husband, that is.”
She struggled to find the words to explain, desperate not to hurt him. “You must understand that most days I don’t even know how I feel about myself
. I’m a mess, if you want to know the truth.”
“You’re too hard on yourself, sweetheart,” he said softly.
“Perhaps. But there are some things I do know. I know that I love my daughter and I want to be with her. And I know that I trust you and feel safe with you. You’re the only person in my life who makes me feel that way. When I’m with you, it’s like I’m myself again. Although perhaps not quite as selfish and pigheaded,” she finished ruefully.
“You were never really selfish, love. Just a little spoiled.”
“But certainly pigheaded.”
“That’s why we’re so well matched,” he said in a light tone. Even though they were over the heavy bit, he was still trying to clear the way for her. And that was so like him too.
She pressed her fingers into the fine wool of his coat. “Royal, I know I’m a bad bargain, but please believe me when I say there’s no one else I would rather be with than you. You are the best man I’ve ever met. After all, I gave you the most precious thing in my life. Would I have done so if I didn’t believe in you?”
“I suppose not,” he said gruffly.
“I didn’t ask you to love and protect Tira because it was convenient for me. I did it because it was the only thing in my life that made sense.”
“You honored me in doing so. But you must be sure about marriage, Ainsley. Once you make this decision, there is no going back.”
“I’ve done little else these last five months but think about you and Tira, and how much I want to be with you. Both of you,” she emphasized. “Truly, I’d swear an oath to that effect, if it would help. Surely there must be some demented Highland ceremony where we would cut our wrists, mingle our blood, and then twirl around half-naked in the moonlight.”
His lips twitched. “Well, I’d very much like to see you dancing half-naked in the moonlight.”
“It would only work if we both did it.”
“As intriguing as it sounds, I’m no dancer, so we’ll have to be satisfied with a simple church wedding.”
Her insides jumped. “So, you’ll do it?”
“Aye.”
While her legs went shaky with relief, she somehow managed to muster a scowl. “Royal Kendrick, I just poured my heart out, and all you can do is say aye?”
“Ainsley, I’ve been nursing a hopeless passion for you—with the emphasis on hopeless—for well on two years, and now we’re finally to be wed. If I get any more emotional, I’ll have to ring for smelling salts.”
She choked out a laugh. “As your grandfather would say, you are a complete jinglebrains.”
As usual, when feeling emotional they both took refuge in silly jests and mild—or not so mild—insults. It was easier that way, and sometimes safer.
“You’re stuck with me now.” He steered her back to her chair, plucking up her brandy glass. “Here, you look like you could use this.”
She took a sip, relishing the reviving jolt. Royal settled into his chair, watching her with quiet intensity.
“Now that we’ve got everything sorted out, may I see Tira?” she asked.
“Of course, although I do think we have a few more things to sort out.”
She cocked an eyebrow.
“For one, when do we get married?” he asked.
“Well, it’s Scotland, so we can just pop off and find the nearest blacksmith, can’t we?”
“As charmingly quaint as that would be, I would advise waiting a few weeks. That will give my family a chance to gather and will allow us time to plan a proper church wedding and celebration.”
“I don’t need any of that. I want to get married immediately.” She leaned forward, her anxiety sparking again. “We can’t afford to wait, Royal.”
He took her hand. “I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you or Tira.”
“But—”
“No, lass. Running off will only look suspicious and raise more questions. I’ve only just got past the scandal of bringing my by-blow into the house. Marrying you in such a slipshod fashion will only generate more gossip.”
Ainsley chewed on her lower lip, feeing mulish and afraid.
“You’re not alone in this anymore,” he said. “You’ve got me and the rest of my family. We’ll protect you.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve been dealing with this on my own for so long. It’s hard to give up control.”
“You’re not giving up control. You’re just letting me help you.”
Help.
She’d wanted that for so long, and now she finally had it. It felt both odd and miraculous. “All right, I’ll defer to you on that. Is there anything else to discuss?”
He considered for a moment. “I think that’s enough for now.”
Ainsley breathed a sigh of relief. She felt exhausted and battered by her emotions.
“I know you’re rather impatient to see your daughter,” he said with a smile.
“Rather
would be putting it mildly.”
He rose and headed for the door. “I’ll have Angus fetch her right away.”
“Oh dear, must he?” Angus was the last person she wanted to deal with, especially while finally meeting her daughter again.
“He’ll insist, I’m afraid.”
“Then can we delay telling him that we’re to be married, at least for today?”
He threw her a surprised glance over his shoulder.
“You know he’ll be furious about it,” she said, “and I’d like to focus on Tira, if I may.”
He nodded. “Of course.”
She flashed him a grateful smile.
When he opened the door, Angus all but fell into the room.
“Hear anything interesting, Grandda?” Royal asked sardonically.
“Not a bloody word,” the old man groused. “Ye both mumble too much.”
“We’ll talk later,” Royal said. “For now, I’d like you to bring Tira down.”
Angus gaped at him, thunderstruck. “Doon here? To see her
?”
“Yes.”
“But the wee lass is nappin’,” he protested. “And, besides, I dinna ken—”
“Now, Grandda,” Royal ordered, gently shoving him out of the room.
Ainsley stood up. “This is going to be a disaster, isn’t it?” She couldn’t help wringing her hands. “Angus is going to try to ruin everything.”
“No need to worry, love. He’s devoted to Tira. He’ll only want the best for her, and that means her mamma.”
Ainsley was quite sure Angus would not consider that the best thing for Tira.
She began pacing the room. Thankfully, Royal didn’t urge her to sit or attempt to calm her with silly platitudes. He simply watched her, radiating waves of quiet reassurance.
The biggest miracle of all was about to happen. She’d finally have everything she’d fought so diligently to achieve—her daughter, and a husband strong enough and devoted enough to protect them both.
And yet she’d never been more terrified in her life.
A few minutes later, Angus walked in, cradling the baby wrapped in a plaid blanket. Royal took Tira and came over to Ainsley, who stood frozen like a lump in front of the fireplace.
“Here’s your daughter,” he murmured. “And she’s a bonny lass, just like her mother.”
She had to blink furiously as she gazed at the sleeping baby in his arms. Tira had the sweetest, chubbiest cheeks, a wealth of glossy black hair, and the most adorable nose Ainsley had ever seen. In short, she was the most beautiful baby who’d ever lived.
“Would you like to hold her?”
Ainsley hardly dared breathe. “May I?”
Angus popped up behind Royal’s shoulder. “Best not. The lassie’s always a wee bit cranky if ye startle her out of a nap.”
“It’ll be fine, Angus,” Royal said.
Ainsley couldn’t help flashing the old man a smug grin. He scowled and uttered a few choice words under his breath.
“I certainly hope you never talk like that around Tira,” she said.
“She’s used to it,” Royal dryly said. “Here, take her.”
Carefully, he eased the babe into her embrace. Ainsley held the soft weight in her arms, amazed at how big her daughter had grown.
Angus sidled around to stand close to her. “Make sure ye support her neck, or she’ll be floppin’ about like a fish.”
Ainsley huffed but followed his instructions. While Angus might be a horrible old man, he clearly knew his way around babies.
“That’s it,” Royal said. “You’re a natural.”
Ainsley flashed him a grin. “I was very good with her when she was a newborn, if you recall.”
Although Tira was still asleep, her face was now screwed up in a frown, as if something troubled her. Perhaps it was the blanket, which had twisted a bit under her chin. Ainsley jiggled her more securely in her arm and tried to rearrange the soft wool wrap.
Tira’s eyes suddenly flew open, and Ainsley found herself staring into a deep violet gaze that matched her own. It was a sleepy gaze, certainly, but a mirror image of hers nonetheless.
It was astounding and utterly wonderful.
The baby contemplated her with an indecisive air, as if waiting for something to happen.
“Hello, darling,” Ainsley whispered. “Remember me? Remember your mamma?”
Tira’s eyes popped even wider for a moment. Then she screwed up her face, opened her little mouth, and began to screech. Out in the hall, the dogs began to yowl in mournful solidarity, creating an unholy din.
Ainsley winced. “I suppose she doesn’t remember me, after all.”
“Welcome to motherhood, lass,” Angus said with a snort. “I hope ye’re ready for it.”