The Highlander Who Protected Me (Clan Kendrick #1)

by Vanessa Kelly

  Royal studied him. “That’s not the only reason, is it?”

  “No,” Logan admitted. “I’m afraid of what he might face here, as an outsider. There’s a powerful lot of hatred in the world, Royal, and I don’t want my boy growing up with that. It’s hard enough back in Canada, but at least his family is there. His people are there. It’s the only life he’s ever known.”

  “Yet he has a family in Scotland who would also love and be there for him. Never doubt that.”

  “Thank you, lad,” his brother said with a grateful smile. “I will think on it, I promise. Now, get yourself home. Your daughter is waiting for you.”

  Royal stood and retrieved his hat from the bookcase behind his desk. “You’re not coming?”

  “I’ll walk out with you, but I promised to meet with my banker at the Tontine Coffee House on the way home.”

  “We’ll wait dinner for you, then.”

  After locking up the offices, they headed out and parted ways at the top of the street. Though Royal could have taken a hackney to Kendrick House, it felt good to stretch his legs after so many hours behind a desk. Still, he couldn’t deny that he liked earning an income again, especially the generous one his brother insisted he take. While Nick would always provide for the family’s needs, Royal was happy knowing he could support Tira and put money aside for her future.

  A short time later, he turned into a quiet street lined with distinguished houses, most of which had been built by the Tobacco Lords of the previous century. Kendrick House, which stood in the middle of the block across from a small garden square, served as home for various members of the family, although right now only Royal, Logan, and Angus were in residence. Braden, the second youngest Kendrick, had recently moved to Edinburgh to study medicine.

  As much as Royal missed Braden, given how accident-prone the Kendricks were, having a physician in the family would certainly come in handy.

  “Good evening, Mr. Royal,” said the footman who responded to his knock. “There’s a visitor to see you, sir. In the front drawing room.”

  “Thank you, Will.” Royal handed over his hat and gloves. “Who—”

  “Hsst, get up here, lad,” came a loud whisper from above them.

  Royal glanced up to see Angus at the top of the stairs. His two favorite terriers were sitting at his feet and Tira was propped on his shoulder.

  “Grandda, what are you doing?”

  “Hush,” Angus said. “Just get up here.”

  Royal glanced at Will, who’d adopted a studiously bland expression, and headed up the staircase. Angus waited impatiently, jiggling Tira.

  “I hope she hasn’t just eaten,” Royal said. “You’ll jog her dinner right out of her.”

  “Och, she’s fine,” Angus said.

  Royal smoothed a hand over his daughter’s jet-black hair. “Hello, darling. Papa is very happy to see you.”

  Tira, half-asleep, gave Royal the smile that never failed to turn him into mush. Then she yawned and rubbed her chubby cheek against her grandfather’s coat.

  “You look ready for bed, little one,” Royal said, patting her back. He glanced at Angus. “Why is she still up?”

  “Never mind that,” the old man said. “We’ve got a problem.”

  One of the terriers let out an anxious little yip as if to underscore his master’s concern.

  “This mysterious visitor, you mean?”

  “It’s that blasted Sasse —”

  The sound of a door opening and a quick footfall below in the hall cut him off.

  “Hell and damnation,” Angus muttered with a scowl. “Ye’re in for it now, laddie.”

  Royal turned around and almost toppled down the stairs.

  Ainsley stood at the base of the staircase, garbed in an elegant walking dress and holding a lace-trimmed parasol. She’d regained her splendid figure, and looked as extravagantly beautiful as he’d ever seen her.

  She also wore an expression that threatened mayhem.

  “Good evening, Mr. Kendrick,” she said in a freezing tone. “If you and Mr. MacDonald are finished lurking about on the stairs, perhaps you might find your manners and come down here. I do believe we have some pressing business to discuss.”

  After he got his brain working again, Royal noticed that Ainsley wasn’t looking at him. Her gaze was glued to Tira. Her determined expression told him that his world was about to come crashing down around his ears.

  Again.

  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 Cringle
wood 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.