His brother immediately looked contrite. “I’m sorry. I only want to help, and I . . . I just wanted you and Lady Ainsley to know that.”
“You have helped enormously by accepting her with such kindness.”
Kade waved a hand. “It’s easy to like her.”
“Tell that to your grandfather.”
“You just leave Grandda to me,” Kade said stoutly. “I’ll bring him around.”
Royal smiled. “Good luck with that. But please keep this discussion between us, and always remember that Tira is my daughter. Because in every way that matters, she is.”
“I know she is.” Kade’s voice cracked in the endearing way of a boy his age. “I would do anything to protect Tira, even if it meant sacrificing myself for her.”
That promise wasn’t just youthful bravado on his brother’s part. Despite his sensitive nature, the lad possessed more heart and courage than any of them.
Royal gave him a brief hug and got him moving again. “I’m hoping the only sacrifice you’ll have to make is hearing Angus complain when Ainsley and I move out of Kendrick House.”
“You know he won’t like that you’re taking Tira away. He dotes on her.”
“It can’t be helped. If Grandda and Ainsley were to live in the same house, there’s no telling what will happen.”
“It would be like living with two of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse,” Kade said in a droll voice.
“Except not as restful.”
They were still laughing when they joined the ladies.
“Care to share the joke?” Ainsley asked.
“Can’t,” Royal said, winking at her. “Not for a lady’s ears.”
Victoria narrowed her eyes. “Royal Kendrick, if you’ve been sharing naughty stories with your little brother . . .”
“He wasn’t,” Kade said, throwing Royal a mischievous grin. “Actually, we were discussing Lady Ainsley and Grandda. We were saying they’re rather like—”
“And how are the ladies today?” Royal hastily interrupted. “Well, I hope?”
Ainsley was not to be deterred. “I am the soul of courtesy to your grandfather. I cannot be held responsible for the actions of a deranged Highlander.”
“I hope you didn’t tell him that,” Royal said.
“She did,” Kade replied. “I heard her.”
“Good God.” Royal wavered between exasperation and amusement.
“In my defense, it was not until he called me a spoiled Sassenach ,” Ainsley pointed out.
“Also true,” said Victoria. “I was forced to separate the combatants.”
“That was actually a bit disappointing,” Kade said. “I was enjoying the fireworks.”
Ainsley poked him in the shoulder. “Don’t think I didn’t hear you chortling behind your hand, young man.”
“I’m thankful I missed that particular encounter,” Royal said.
“I’m sure there will be more such episodes for you to witness,” Ainsley said. “If you deign to grace us with your presence.”
He had to repress a wince. He had been carefully avoiding her and equally hoping she wouldn’t notice. “I apologize if you think I’ve been neglecting you.”
“Oh, I don’t think it, if that’s what you’re wondering,” she said.
“Tira is beginning to stir,” Victoria said, tactfully redirecting the conversation. She smiled at Royal. “She must have heard your voice.”
He bent to look into the carriage. Tira’s eyes were still closed, but she’d kicked off her blanket and was squirming a bit.
“She’ll be awake soon,” he said. “She’s probably hungry.”
“We’d better go back, then,” Ainsley said, instantly sounding concerned. “She might cry if she gets too hungry.”
The poor lass always seemed to take her daughter’s tears personally. Royal thought them more a sign of teething, and of bad timing, to a certain extent. Tira had reached the stage where she didn’t like strangers. To her, Ainsley was a stranger.
“The nursemaid assured me that Tira consumed an exceedingly hearty breakfast this morning,” Victoria said. “And a snack just before we fetched her.”
Ainsley checked the watch pinned to her waist. “Still, it’s almost lunchtime. It won’t do to let her fret.”
Royal glanced into the carriage again. Tira had stuck her thumb in her mouth. With her eyes now at half-mast, she looked the picture of drowsy contentment.
“You’re the one who’s fretting, love,” he said. “Tira is fine.”
A faint blush colored Ainsley’s cheeks, but whether from his endearment or his teasing he didn’t know. Despite her jab about being ignored, she was rather skittish with him. They were a pair they were, since he was skittish too. In fact, he was bloody terrified of hurting her by saying the wrong thing.
“I know. I’m a complete fussbudget,” Ainsley ruefully said. “But I had no idea babies were so complicated.”
“They’re not, really.” Royal reached into the carriage and gently hoisted Tira into his arms. She snuffled around her thumb, and then nestled against his chest. “They simply want food, love, and a warm place to sleep. Not necessarily in that order.”
Kade smiled at him. “You would know, since you practically raised me. Although I doubt you changed my dirty clouts.”
“You’d be wrong,” Royal said, “because I certainly did.”
Ainsley scoffed. “That cannot be true.”
“It’s not an experience one forgets,” he said.
“Didn’t your father hire proper nursemaids?” she asked.
“Of course he did. It’s just that . . . well, never mind.” It was not a topic he wished to discuss.
“He used to sneak into the nursery at night and take me back to his room,” Kade explained. “Nick said the first time it happened, the household went crazy looking for me. Finally, they found me cuddled up in Royal’s bed, happy as a grig.”
“On top of that, you changed his nappies, too?” Ainsley’s tone suggested she thought him dicked in the knob for doing so.
“What else was I supposed to do? Babies do need their clouts changed on a regular basis.”
“I’d wager the nursemaids weren’t happy about you raiding the nursery,” Victoria said with amusement. “They disapprove of disruptions in their fiefdoms.”
“They were less than keen, I’ll tell you that,” Royal said, shaking his head at the memory. “I got more than one scold for doing it.”
And several hard whacks from the senior nursemaid when no one was looking. Still nothing had stopped him from carting Kade off to his room.
Ainsley was obviously perplexed. “But why did you do it?”
He started to give an awkward shrug but realized he might disturb Tira. “He wasn’t any trouble, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“He was afraid I was lonely,” Kade said. “We’d lost our mother, you see. Royal worried that I would feel all alone, even though I was just a babe and too young to know the loss.”
Royal blinked, startled. His little brother knew the story, of course. It was one of the family jokes—a rambunctious eight-year-old playing nursemaid to a squalling infant. He had never told anyone why he did it, but he wasn’t surprised Kade would see to the heart of it.
The lad always did.
“What an excellent brother you are, Royal Kendrick,” Victoria said, rubbing a gloved fingertip under one eye.
“Victoria, for God’s sake do not start bawling,” Royal said as he gently rocked the baby.
“My brothers certainly never did anything like that,” Ainsley said quietly. “I suspect they never set foot in my nursery, much less cared whether I was happy or sad—at least until I was much older.”
And, Royal suspected, probably not even then from the sounds of it.
Kade grimaced in sympathy. “That’s very sad.”
“You were lucky to have such a nice family,” she told the boy with a smile.
If she thought Kade or any of the bro
thers were lucky, with all the bad fortune they’d suffered over the years, it made Royal wonder what her childhood had truly been like.
“No one could have asked for a kinder, more generous family,” Kade said. “Royal especially takes the cake, even though all my brothers are splendid.”
“When we’re not all getting into trouble and driving Nick crazy, that is.” Royal was well aware he’d been anything but kind the last few years. Monumental pain in the arse to his long-suffering family was a better description. “Ainsley, why don’t you take the baby,” he suggested, uncomfortable with the conversation. “She’s gone back to sleep, so I’m sure she won’t fuss.”
Ainsley shook her head. “It took forever to get her to stop crying when I held her before.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Victoria protested.
“Yes, it was.”
“You’re trying too hard, love,” Royal said. “Just relax.”
Ainsley sighed and gingerly took the baby.
He still couldn’t believe the change in her. Right after Tira’s birth, Ainsley had taken to motherhood with brilliant, easy grace. Now, though, she was awkward and anxious. The problem was no doubt exacerbated by having to pretend she barely knew Tira, and keeping her emotions on a tight leash. The need to play a false role was getting in the way of her natural maternal instincts.
She adjusted her hold, fitting Tira into the crook of her arm. When she glanced at Royal, her face lit up like the most beautiful star in the night sky.
“Now you’re getting the hang of it,” he said, forcing the words past the emotion tightening his throat. God, he adored her.
“There, now,” Victoria said. “She just needed to settle down—”
An earsplitting wail cut her off, and Ainsley all but jumped out of her shoes. Thankfully, she kept a firm hold on her daughter.
“Well, that settles it,” she said with a grimace. “Tira hates me.”
Royal shook his head. “Hush, daft girl. Just rock her a bit.”
She looked dubious, but gently began rocking her daughter from side to side, softly murmuring endearments. Unfortunately, the wails kept building, reaching a crescendo that shredded the serene atmosphere of the park.
“You’d better take her before a constable arrives to arrest us for disturbing the peace,” Ainsley said, handing her over to Royal. “Honestly, sometimes I think—” She bit off whatever she was about to say.
“What?” he asked.
She managed a smile. “Nothing. I’m just being silly.”
He propped Tira on his shoulder and began patting her back. “Shush, little lass. Papa’s got you.”
The baby cried for another minute or so but eventually settled into a series of hiccups as she rubbed her tear-streaked face against his coat. Ainsley studied them fiercely, her expression a heartbreaking mix of frustration and longing. Then she turned away to briskly rearrange the blankets in the carriage.
Royal breathed out a quiet sigh. Fate seemed to be conspiring against Ainsley in the cruelest way through her daughter’s apparent rejection. Combined with his family’s wary attitude toward her, it would be no surprise if she regretted the decision to torch her old life.
It was up to him to fix that.
“Ah, I believe I have deduced the source of little Miss Kendrick’s problem,” he said. “This lass is in desperate need of a change.”
Ainsley was fussing with an oddly bedraggled doll. “I suppose we should return to the house. We’re hardly equipped to change her on a park bench, despite your vaunted skills.”
“Kade and I will take her,” Victoria said. She flicked Ainsley a meaningful glance before smiling at Royal. “I assume you came home from the office to have lunch with us?”
He nodded.
“Well, then there’s time for you and Ainsley to have a nice stroll around the park. In any event, luncheon can certainly be pushed back.”
“But I’m starving,” Kade protested.
“You can have a nice piece of fruit or a glass of milk,” Victoria said in a voice brooking no protest.
“Fruit. Ugh,” the lad grumbled.
“Thank you, Victoria,” Ainsley said. “I’d quite like a walk.”
When the women exchanged another knowing glance, Royal lost any doubt that a conspiracy was afoot. So be it, then. As much as he wanted to avoid putting any pressure on Ainsley, it was past time they sorted out their unresolved issues.
“I’ll return Tira to her nursemaids,” Victoria said, “and then perhaps Kade and I can look at a new piece of music to pass the time until you return.” She smiled at the lad. “Would you like that?”
“Better than eating a moldy old piece of fruit,” Kade said, perking up.
“Splendid. Royal, why don’t you put Tira back in the carriage so we can be off.”
“I think she’d rather be carried.” He handed the baby to Kade. “Here, lad, make yourself useful.”
His brother took her gingerly. “Gosh, I hope she’s not leaking.”
Tira screwed up her wee features, as if displeased with her uncle’s tepid reception.
“You’re all worse than poor Tira,” Victoria said, starting to reach for her.
“Victoria, you’ll ruin that lovely pelisse,” Ainsley protested. She leaned in to sniff her daughter, resting a gentle hand on Tira’s little capped head. “That is quite appalling, I must say. And if she is, er, leaking, the stain will never come out.”
There’d been an unfortunate incident just yesterday when Ainsley picked Tira up before the nursemaid had finished dressing her. Ainsley’s expensive gown had suffered dire consequences as a result.
Victoria whipped a baby blanket from the carriage and deftly wrapped it around Tira’s sturdy form. “I grew up in a coaching inn and mucked out more than my share of horse stalls. This is a mere bagatelle by contrast.”
“I love her,” Kade said, gratefully handing her over, “but she smells almost as bad as the twins after a night of carousing.”
“Almost? The twins are infinitely worse,” Ainsley said, stoutly coming to her baby’s defense. “And at least Tira doesn’t destroy the furniture.”
“Och, give the wee lassie a chance,” Royal said in an exaggerated brogue. “She’ll catch up to her uncles in no time.”
Ainsley smacked his arm, trying not to laugh. “That’s an awful thing to wish on your daughter. Tira Kendrick will be the sweetest and most refined of young ladies, if I have anything to say about it. Not some Highland hellion like your brothers.”
Relief eased the knot in his gut. He hated that she was unhappy. It made him feel almost as helpless as that day at Waterloo when he’d lain half-dead in a ditch, unable to fend for himself.
Victoria settled the baby on her shoulder. “Actually, the twins have made progress. They hardly ever destroy furniture these days.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Ainsley said dryly.
Graeme and Grant, as well as Braden, had yet to arrive in Glasgow for the wedding. By next week, however, the entire family would be assembled under the roof of Kendrick House. How well Ainsley would deal with a houseful of Royal’s cheerfully brash brothers—on top of the other stresses in her life—was an open and troubling question.
Ainsley gave Tira a quick kiss on the top of her head. “We won’t be long, I promise,” she said to Victoria.
“Take all the time you need.”
With Kade dragging the carriage behind him, he and Victoria headed for the street.
Royal offered Ainsley his arm. “If you permit, I would be delighted to escort you, my lovely lady.”
She dimpled up at him, her smile sweet and rather shy. Since Ainsley was normally the antithesis of shy, it was another indication of how rattled she was. Her vulnerability sent a clear message that he needed to continue to tread carefully.
They strolled down one of the shaded paths, heading toward the opposite end of the park.
“Why are you scowling?” she asked a few moments later. “Is your leg hu
rting? Do you want to sit down?”
“Ainsley, please don’t fuss over my leg. It’s fine.” Surprisingly, it had been better these last several weeks. Then again, he’d been so busy that he’d barely had time to think about whether his old injury nagged at him.
“I’ve got to fuss over something, since my daughter won’t let me,” she said with a rueful smile.
“It’s just the teething making her fractious. That’s always hard on a baby, you know.”
“That’s precisely my point. I don’t know anything about being a mother, because I had to give her up before I learned how to do it.”
He tucked her close to his side. “You’ve been thrown into the deep end of the pond, Ainsley. I have no doubt that you and Tira will soon be inseparable.”
She mulled his words in silence for a few moments. “Sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake.”
Now they were getting to it. “By coming back to us, you mean?”
“No. By giving her up.” Her expression suddenly turned fierce. “I should have found a way to make it work. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t see it. But I still should have found a way.”
“Love, this was the only way to keep both of you safe from Cringlewood. Short of going into exile, I don’t see how you could have done anything different.” He hesitated, and then made himself say it. “Unless you think you should have married Tira’s father.”
She shot him a hard glance. “You are Tira’s father, not that man. I want nothing to do with him.”
“And you’re sure about that?”
Her irate gaze practically scorched him.
“Fine, then stop questioning your decision,” he said. “Give yourself and your daughter some time, and all will be well. I promise.”
“That sounds lovely, but there’s still quite a bit of all to work out, isn’t there?”
“That’s why we’re having this little chat, from what I was able to deduce.”
His comment pulled a small smile to her lips. “It would appear Victoria and I were not as clever as we thought.”
“There was no need for a conspiracy. I came home specifically to speak with you today.”
“Because you have been avoiding me. Admit it.”
He waggled a hand. “Maybe a bit, but not because I don’t want to be with you.”
The Highlander Who Protected Me (Clan Kendrick #1) Page 19