Chapter Eight
Ainsley resisted the urge to dash up the staircase and snatch Tira into her arms. Her bones ached with the need to hold her daughter and feel the warmth of that small, lovely body against her chest. The emotion of the moment all but choked her.
Of course, Angus would probably boot her down the stairs if she got that close. He glowered at her and clutched the baby tightly, as if he were protecting her from a pack of snarling hellhounds. Even the stupid, scruffy dogs looked ready to pelt down and attack the English intruder.
“Please bring Tira back to the nursery,” Royal said to his grandfather.
Ainsley swallowed a protest. Upsetting Royal more than she already had would only put him on the defensive. She needed him almost as much as she needed her baby. Needed him to trust and support her more than ever.
Angus nodded. “Do ye want me to join ye for this little palaver after I do that?”
“I think not,” Royal said in a voice dry as dust. “I’ll send Will up if I need you.”
Ainsley thanked God. The old fellow positively loathed her and would do anything he could to keep her away from Royal. The idea of explaining everything in front of even one other person made her stomach churn. Bad enough to confess her failings to Royal, but to expose herself to anyone else would be unbearable.
Royal ruffled Tira’s glossy black curls with affection. “Off with your Grandda, lass,” he said as she waved her chubby little fists at him. “I’ll see you soon.”
After another troubled glance at Ainsley, the old man turned and headed down the hall. She craned to try to see Tira’s face again, but Angus disappeared before she could get a good look.
Soon you’ll see her all you want. Be patient.
Royal came slowly down the stairs, halting a step from the bottom and looming over her. Of course, he was doing it on purpose, just to make a point. It was silly, though. He was so tall he threw her in shadow even when standing flat on the ground. Royal Kendrick had made her feel uncomfortable and perplexed and a thousand other difficult emotions, but he would never intimidate her.
Because he would never hurt her, at least not by choice.
They cautiously studied each other, like strangers trying to identify enemy or friend. Ainsley gazed into his extraordinary green-glass eyes and had the oddest sensation that she was falling up
into them. It made her head swim, and she was tempted to grab the bannister to steady herself.
Yet, despite the fraught moment, it was so
good to see him that she had to blink hard against a rush of tears.
Royal’s carefully blank expression became a frown. “Are you all right?”
Rather than succumb to an embarrassing bout of hysterics, she took refuge in a display of bad temper.
“I’ve been waiting forever
for you to arrive.” She directed a glare at the gangly footman, who was doing his best to look invisible. “William
stuck me in the drawing room, where I’ve been kicking up my heels for the better part of an hour.”
She switched her glare to Royal. “By myself.”
He threw a startled look at the footman, who grimaced in apology. “We sent a lad around with a note, sir. He must have missed you.”
“Apparently,” Royal said. “Did anyone think to bring Lady Ainsley refreshments?”
“Lady Ainsley has not had so much as a cup of tea,” she butted in. “And I’m utterly starving.”
She wasn’t, really. But she had to kick up a fuss about something or she’d fall apart. The last five days had been a mad dash north all while praying that Cringlewood or her father wasn’t following. She had arrived in Glasgow only this morning, exhausted, anxious, and desperate to see Tira.
But she could only see her daughter if Royal agreed. Either that or if she did something incredibly stupid, like announce to the world that she was Tira’s mother. Since that was not an option, she had to gain Royal’s support for her desperate plan.
“We can’t have you fainting from hunger,” Royal said, sounding faintly amused. “Will, bring tea into the study, and make sure Cook includes some scones and plum cake, if she’s got any.”
“Aye, sir. She made a fresh cake just this afternoon,” William said, scuttling backward toward the service door.
Royal took her elbow and steered her toward the back of the house. “I apologize. Angus was obviously being difficult. If I’d known you were here, I would have come home straightaway.”
“You’d think I was going to give Tira the plague from the way he acted. I was all but ready to storm the nursery.”
His hand briefly tightened. “Hush, my lady. Wait till we have a little privacy.”
She took hold of herself, searching for a measure of control. His unruffled demeanor was having an alarming effect on her nerves. She wasn’t used to Royal maintaining the cooler head. He seemed different, more mature and reserved than she remembered.
It made him even more attractive, and he was already fatally
attractive.
Then again, his control might signal that his feelings for her had faded away. She sensed he wasn’t happy to see her, something so distressing it sent her mind into a tizzy. Ainsley had counted on Royal still wanting her, still loving her. In fact, it had never crossed her mind that he wouldn’t.
And aren’t you the arrogant one, my girl?
Perhaps he’d even concluded that she was a woman of low morals, after all. If so, she could hardly blame him. Whatever the extenuating circumstances—most of which he didn’t know—she’d been with another man and then had not even the brains to marry him.
He gently pulled her to a halt outside the study door. Ducking a bit, he gave her a swift perusal.
“Stop it,” he said.
“Stop what?”
“Whatever is going on inside your pretty head. I can practically hear the bloody wheels spinning away.”
She blinked. “I, uh—”
He tipped her chin up even as he cast a glance down the hall. Then he pressed a swift kiss to her lips. It was firm, decisive, and scattered every thought in her head. She was forced to curl a hand into his coat to keep from staggering.
“Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out,” he said when he pulled back. His voice held a deliciously rough note that made her shiver. “You’ve worked yourself into a stew, and we’ve barely exchanged two words.”
“I’m just t . . . tired,” she stammered. “And how dare you kiss me like that, here in the hall,” she belatedly added, even though she felt weak with relief. Apparently, he still cared for her after all.
He flashed his rogue’s grin. “Would it be all right if I kissed you in the study?”
Ainsley had to clear her throat before she could answer. “Certainly not. That would be most inappropriate.”
Dignity and self-assurance felt like a distant memory, thanks to the disaster her life had become.
“I suppose you’re right,” Royal said as he ushered her through the door. “Angus, for one, would be horrified to see us acting with such reckless abandon.”
She was tempted to stick her tongue out as she swept past him.
He led her to a pair of needlepointed wing chairs in front of the fireplace. Even though it was August, a small fire burned in the grate. It had been an unusually cool summer, especially up north. Glasgow felt damp and dreary, so she sank down gratefully and let the warmth wash over her.
Still, it wasn’t London. For the moment, at least, she was safe.
Time to get on with it.
She straightened her shoulders and primly folded her hands in her lap. “Speaking of your grandfather, my dear sir,” she started in a disapproving voice.
He interrupted her as he took the other chair. “Ainsley, you look like you have a pole up your—”
“Royal Kendrick!”
“Spine,” he finished with a smile. “You needn’t be so formal, pet. Now, since you seem a tad worn around the edges, why don’t you sit back and relax? We’ll have tea first, and then we can talk.”
“I arrived in Glasgow this morning after almost a week on the road. I’m allowed to look a little worn out, aren’t I?” With everything she’d been through these last weeks, it was a miracle she didn’t look a complete hag.
“Ainsley, you look as beautiful as always. But you do have shadows under your eyes, and you’re paler than usual.”
She was slightly mollified by his concern but refused to be distracted. “As I was going to say, I was quite disconcerted to see Angus carting my daughter about in so casual a fashion. Surely you should have a nursemaid taking care of her, not a, er . . . elderly man.”
Thankfully, she managed to stop herself from calling his grandfather a disgusting old reprobate. The gleam in Royal’s eyes suggested he had a good idea what she’d been about to say.
“Angus is better with Tira than the nursemaids are. He certainly spends as much time with the lass as they do.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Believe it,” he said with a wry smile. “You needn’t worry about Angus. He’s devoted to Tira, and she adores him.”
“Good God.”
“Don’t forget that Angus helped raise us after my mother died, especially the younger lads.”
“And look how well that turned out,” she said tartly. The twins, Graeme and Grant, were two of the most appalling young men Ainsley had ever met.
“You mean the twins. But they’re much better than they used to be. And you must admit that Braden and Kade are exceedingly nice, despite their youth.”
“That’s true,” she admitted. “But I refuse to believe the twins are anything less than horrible. And you, Royal Kendrick, are your grandfather’s favorite and you’re absolutely dreadful.”
His smile slid into something so warm and lovely that Ainsley suddenly felt a bit overheated.
“You don’t seem to mind,” he said.
“Don’t flatter yourself. And why are those dreadful little dogs at Kendrick House instead of up at the castle? Please don’t tell me that they’re allowed in the nursery.”
“They sleep there, actually. Under Tira’s crib.”
When she stared at him with unalloyed horror, Royal burst into laughter.
“Don’t fash yourself, lass,” he managed to gasp out. “The terriers are as devoted to her as everyone else, and they make splendid guard dogs. They don’t let anyone they don’t know within ten feet of her. If she so much as drops her rattle, they raise a fuss until someone picks it up for her.”
“Oh, Lord. My daughter is being raised by wild animals and even wilder Highlanders.”
“Your daughter is being raised by a family utterly smitten with her,” Royal said gently. “And she’s thriving.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. “Truly? I couldn’t see her well enough to tell.”
“She’s the happiest, healthiest, and chubbiest baby that ever lived. I promise.”
Ainsley’s anxious heart finally began to settle. These months away from her daughter had been torture, even with the regular if obscurely worded reports from Victoria.
“I’d like to see her, please,” she whispered.
Royal frowned, looking wary again. “Ainsley, I—” He broke off at the tap on the door. “Enter.”
William carefully balanced a large tray loaded with a teapot, cups, and several small plates of cakes and scones. Irrationally annoyed by such a display of bounty after having been left to stew for an hour by herself, Ainsley couldn’t help scowling at him.
When the footman caught her look, his eyes widened with alarm. The tray wobbled, and a plate of scones slid toward the edge.
Royal jumped up and steadied the tray in time. “Put it on the desk, lad. I’ll serve her ladyship.”
“Aye, sir,” William said with evident relief. He lowered the tray too hard, causing the cups to rattle, and beat a hasty retreat.
“Still terrifying the servants, I see,” Royal said.
“Good. I thought I might be losing my touch.”
When he lifted an incredulous eyebrow, she wrinkled her nose. “Well, he did stick me in that room and leave me there. That wasn’t very nice.”
“I expect Angus told him to do it.”
“Ridiculous,” she said, exasperated. “Your grandfather treats me like I’m some sort of horrible interloper. A villain.”
He handed her a cup of tea, prepared with lots of sugar and a bit of milk, just as she preferred. Then he propped a shoulder against a corner of the mantel, looking down at her with thoughtful regard. “The truth is, Angus is afraid of you.”
She frowned. “Why? He’s never been nervous around me before. Quite the opposite.”
On more than one occasion, she and the old man had gotten into screaming matches that all but rattled the timbers at Kinglas.
“He’s afraid you’re going to try to take Tira away from us,” Royal said.
Ainsley stared at him in shock.
“I confess I’m concerned too,” he said with an attempt at a casual shrug. “I hear not a word from you for months, then you suddenly appear on my doorstep.” His malachite gaze all but drilled into her. “It wouldn’t be an unreasonable assumption to worry that you’re here to take her away from us.”
“I would never do that,” she snapped, anger getting the better of her. “But may I remind you that no one has more right to her than I do.”
“Except her father.”
She flinched, spilling tea into the saucer.
“Dammit.” Royal grimaced. “I’m sorry. That was unforgiveable of me.”
“Yes, it was.” She clamped her lips shut, too upset to say more.
When he rubbed the corner of his eye, guilt flashed through her. His eyelid must be twitching, something that only happened when he was particularly upset or in pain. She was making a complete hash of things but couldn’t seem to control her emotions.
“It’s just that it would kill us to lose Tira,” he said. “She’s my daughter now, lass. Do you understand?”
Ainsley fought for her composure. “Of course I do. And I know this is the best place for Tira, truly. I’m more grateful to you than I can ever say.”
When he simply studied her in silence, she took a sip of tea to mask her sense of shame. That he could think her so cruel . . . then again, when had she done anything but bring trouble into his life? She supposed she couldn’t blame him for his continued mistrust.
Ainsley rested her cup on her knee. “I mean it, Royal. I would never take her away from you.”
He breathed out a quiet sigh of relief. “Thank you for that reassurance, especially for my grandfather’s sake. He and the dogs would probably throw themselves from the highest tower at Kinglas if they lost her.”
Oh, blast.
Royal was trying to make a joke, for her sake, which made her feel like an idiot for blundering in so clumsily, trampling over everyone’s feelings. One of these days, she would learn to think of others before she thought of herself.
“You do realize that’s rather an incentive,” she said, trying for the same light tone. “Royal, I know I’m a rather selfish person, but I’m not a monster.”
“Sweetheart, of course I don’t think you’re a monster,” he protested.
“But you do think I’m selfish, and you’re not wrong. I am
selfish, but not when it comes to Tira.”
He came down on one knee before her. Taking her teacup, he placed it on the round table between the chairs.
“I wasn’t finished with that,” she said weakly as he took her hands. He started to strip the kid gloves from her fingers.
When he finally wriggled one off, he frowned. “Why is your hand so bloody cold?”
He stripped the other one off and began gently rubbing her hands. “Dammit, Ainsley, one of these days you’ve got to start taking better care of yourself.”
She didn’t know whether to laugh or burst into tears. He’d always scolded her when he worried. Only when she thought she’d never see him again had she realized how much she’d miss it.
“I’ve spent the last five days in a damp coach and even damper inns,” she said. “It’s a miracle I’m not dead or covered in mold.”
“You didn’t travel alone, did you?”
“No, I brought my maid with me.”
He looked aghast. “That’s it? Not even a footman?”
“I was traveling incognito, Royal. Besides, if you saw my maid, you wouldn’t worry. She’s a veritable Amazon and even meaner than your grandfather.”
That was why she’d hired the woman after returning to London. While a bit rough about the edges, Forde was strong, competent, and loyal to the bone. Ainsley had fired her last maid when she found her going through her correspondence. The girl had refused to say who’d put her up to it, but it had to be Cringlewood.
“Is she here with you today?” he asked.
“Of course not.” She trusted Forde, but not with this. Not yet, anyway. She didn’t trust anybody when it came to Tira, except the Kendricks.
Royal adopted a stern expression. “You know it’s not appropriate for you to be calling at a gentleman’s residence by yourself.”
“Good God, of all people to be lecturing me. When did you turn into such an old biddy?”
“You gave me the responsibility for saving your reputation, or have you forgotten that salient point?”
She rolled her eyes. “Nobody knows I’m here. And please get up off the floor. You look ridiculous, and you’ll hurt your leg.”
“My leg is fine.”
“Splendid, but I’m worried you’re about to start spouting lines from Romeo and Juliet
. Or Hamlet
, which would be even worse.”
He snorted. “Please. Macbeth
or nothing, in this household.”
“With me playing all three witches, no doubt.”
“You and Angus could trade off.” He briefly pressed her hands and rose to his feet with an easy, masculine grace. He really seemed healthier than she’d ever seen him.
And he was so very, very handsome.
He went to the tea service and filled a plate, stacking it high with scones and cake before bringing it back to her.
“Where are you staying? And if it’s at a coaching inn or hotel, I will murder you on the spot,” he said a moment later as he poured himself a cup of tea.
Because she’d just taken a huge bite of the most delicious plum cake she’d ever tasted, she couldn’t stick out her tongue at him.
“I’m staying at Breadie Manor, for the moment,” she managed after she swallowed.
“Really? I didn’t know Alec and Edie were in town,” he said, settling into the other chair.
Alec Gilbride, heir to the Earl of Riddick, normally resided at his grandfather’s castle north of Glasgow. But the family also owned Breadie Manor, a lovely mansion on the outskirts of the city. She’d stayed there last Christmas while visiting with Alec and his wife, Edie, who was a chum from Ainsley’s school days.
“They’re not,” she said, “but they’ll be coming down to the city in a few days. My visit was, er, a bit of a surprise.”
Ainsley had only written to her friend once she was safely away from London. Edie had barely had time to notify the servants of Ainsley’s impending arrival at Breadie Manor.
“They know about Tira?” Royal asked.
She lifted an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell them?”
As well as being a good friend to the Kendricks, Alec Gilbride was also Victoria’s cousin. Both were the illegitimate offspring of royalty. In Victoria’s case, her father was the Prince Regent himself. The cousins were close, so she’d rather expected Victoria to eventually confide in Alec. It was embarrassing, but Ainsley knew the Gilbrides could be trusted to keep her secret.
Royal shook his head. “Victoria and I felt it was not right to share that information without your permission. Not even with Alec and Edie.”
“That was very kind of you, but I’m sure Edie knows. That’s why I thought you might have told them.”
“Why do you think she knows?”
“Because Edie is always talking about you in her letters, extolling your virtues as a father.” She flashed him a rueful smile. “Believe me, I never had to write to Victoria to find out how things were going. Edie made a point of filling me in on the Kendrick family on a regular basis—and on you, in particular. You are now a veritable paragon in her eyes, unable to do wrong.”
Those letters from Edie and Victoria had been a lifeline, but they’d been painful, too. Each one had driven a nail into her heart as she read about the daughter lost to her, seemingly forever.
He scoffed. “I’m hardly a paragon, I assure you.”
Ainsley pressed a dramatic hand to her heart. “I am deeply shocked to hear that.”
When his gaze flickered down to her chest, warming with appreciation, she hastily grabbed her teacup and took a sip. Still, she couldn’t help feeling a teensy bit pleased that his attraction to her apparently hadn’t faded.
“I do try to be a good father, though,” he said after a moment. “Not that it’s difficult. Tira is so easy to love.”
“I . . . I hope you’ll let me see her. I promise I won’t make any trouble, and I’ll be very careful not to reveal anything.”
His smile faded. “All right, but you need to tell me why, Ainsley. I need to know why you’ve changed your mind about this. You were so adamant that you have no contact with her—or me, for that matter.”
She put down her teacup. “I’m in trouble, Royal. Tira and I both need your help, now more than ever.”
He instantly put down his cup and leaned forward, frowning. “You know I will do what I can to help you. What sort of trouble are you talking about?”
She took a deep breath and then leapt into the unknown. “I need you to marry me, and I need you to do it as soon as you can.”