The Highlander Who Protected Me (Clan Kendrick #1)

by Vanessa Kelly

  When Royal started to reluctantly pull away, she grabbed his arm. “Promise me that you’ll take care of my baby if anything happens to me,” she gritted out.

  He blinked. “Uh, what?”

  “If I die, you must take my baby. Keep it safe.”

  The midwife patted her shoulder. “Och, ye’ll not be dyin’ tonight, my lady. Ye be as strong as a nanny goat, not to mention quite broad in the beam. I ken the wee one will slip right out of ye.”

  Ainsley stared at the woman in disbelief, then glared at Royal, who was trying not to laugh.

  “Beautifully broad in the beam,” he choked out.

  “Bugger—” She couldn’t finish because the contraction hit full force. Grabbing his cravat, she yanked him down so they were again nose to nose.

  “Promise you’ll take care of my baby.” Ainsley needed him to do this, and she needed him to agree to it now , before the pain obliterated her ability to think straight.

  He covered her hand with his. “Yes, all right, love.”

  “Say it.”

  He stared down at her, his gaze troubled. “I promise. I will take care of your baby. You have my word, no matter what.”

  Ainsley fell back with relief. Whatever happened next, she could face it. Her baby would be safe.

  “Away with ye, sir,” Mrs. Peters ordered, flapping her hands at Royal.

  “I’m going,” he said reluctantly.

  Ainsley suspected he’d rather stay with her, and part of her desperately wished him to. But that would be scandalous and ultimately embarrassing when she started shrieking like a bloody fishwife.

  Which would be happening any moment now.

  “Do not let anything happen to her,” Royal added in a firm tone to the midwife as he backed out of the room.

  “Men,” Mrs. Peters said, after the door shut behind him. “A bloody nuisance at a time like this.”

  “Only guid for one thing,” Betty said, giving the midwife a saucy wink.

  In Ainsley’s case, there’d been nothing good about it at all.

  “Mind yer tongue, lass,” the midwife said sharply. Then she smiled at Ainsley. “Now, my lady, let’s have a look. If ye’re ready, we’ll move ye to the birthin’ stool.”

  Ainsley peered at the uncomfortable looking contraption by the fireplace and took a deep breath. “All right, Mrs. Peters. Do your worst.”

  When the next contraction hit, she realized that the worst was just getting started.

  Chapter Five

  Royal caught sight of Lady Margaret thumping down the hall to Ainsley’s room as he came up the stairs from breakfast. Her ladyship had slept through her niece’s ordeal. He admired her insouciance, since he’d been a nervous wreck for most of the night, although he’d done his best to hide that from Ainsley.

  Fortunately, the lass had safely delivered her child shortly before dawn. She’d done it with a stoicism that left him in awe. Hovering just outside the bedroom door, straining his ears, Royal had heard very little aside from a few curses and one shriek just at the end. He’d been tempted to charge into the room at that point, as if he could somehow protect her.

  A few minutes later, Betty had popped out with the happy news. After thanking her, Royal had sunk down to the floor and buried his face in his hands, sucking in deep breaths and trying to calm his racing heart. The maid had patted him kindly on the head, as if he were a frightened puppy. It had made him feel like an even bigger idiot.

  If anything had happened to Ainsley, Royal truly hadn’t known what he’d do.

  The midwife had refused to let him see her, leaving him no choice but to retreat to his own bed. After a few hours of fitful dozing, he’d finally given up any real attempt to sleep, knowing he wouldn’t rest until he saw Ainsley.

  “Lady Margaret,” he called out. “A word, if you please.”

  “There’s no cause to rush,” the old woman said as he joined her. “You’ll strain that leg of yours, and I’ll not be responsible for sending you home a cripple. Lord Arnprior would be most displeased.”

  “I doubt it could get much worse, so no worries there.”

  “Ainsley told me you spent most of the night walking with her or lugging her about.” She waggled her eyebrows. “And we both know she’s no frail little miss. I shouldn’t wonder if you’re feeling it this morning.”

  He was, but he had no intention of admitting it. “I’m fine.”

  “You look a wreck. Worse than my niece.”

  “I’ll get some rest later,” he said dryly. All in all, his leg seemed of little import, given the questions now facing them.

  “How is Ainsley?” he asked. “Is Dr. MacTavish satisfied she’s recovering as she should?”

  The physician had arrived only an hour ago, and through the window of the dining room, Royal had just spotted the man departing in his phaeton. He’d taken the quick visit as a good sign.

  “He was most pleased with her condition. Despite being pampered all her life, my niece is an exceedingly strong young woman. That’s the Scot in her. She’s just like her grandmother, in that respect. My dear sister, God rest her soul.”

  “I’m relieved to hear it. And the babe?”

  “Small but perfectly healthy.” She heaved a sigh. “She is a blessing, of course.”

  Royal understood her conflicted emotions. Now that there was an actual bairn to deal with, decisions must be made.

  “Lady Margaret, I know it’s awkward, since I’m not family—”

  “Ainsley doesn’t seem to agree,” she interrupted. “Apparently, she asked you to take the babe if anything went wrong.”

  Royal frowned. “No, she asked me to make sure the baby was taken care of. I was happy to agree.”

  Lady Margaret narrowed her rheumy gaze on him. “That’s not what she told me.”

  Clearly, the old woman had misunderstood. “Well, thank God no such action is necessary, but it does raise the issue of what happens next. Ainsley suggested last night that plans had not, er, been finalized.”

  The old woman snorted. “I’ve been trying to get the lass to make a decision for weeks.”

  “She told me you’d offered to raise the baby.”

  “Yes, but we both know that’s no good solution. I’m practically at death’s doorstep.”

  Lady Margaret then sighed and thumped over to a high-backed chair, sinking into it. With such a forceful presence, it was easy to forget she’d passed her eightieth year some time ago. But now she looked frail and much too old to deal with so fraught a problem.

  “Surely not,” he said gently. “But I agree a longer-term solution must be found. And I suspect you’ve given it some thought.”

  She stacked her wrinkled hands on the knob of her cane and thoughtfully met his gaze. “There is a family I think will do quite well. They’re distant relations and members of our clan, so they’re loyal and very respectable. They own a tidy farm some hours north, so it’s ideal in that respect, quite out of the way. I, of course, would make financial arrangements and monitor the situation for as long as I could.”

  Most would find that a more than suitable arrangement for the illegitimate child of an aristocrat, since it was rare for by-blows to be raised within their own families. They were generally—and quietly—placed somewhere in the countryside. That would certainly be the expected solution for a girl in Ainsley’s situation.

  “Then why does Ainsley not agree?” Royal asked.

  “She thinks it too precarious a situation for the child. Especially since I am a decrepit fossil with one foot in the grave.”

  “Did she actually say that?”

  “What do you think?”

  He smiled, sure of the answer. “I have to say, I do see her point. You won’t be around forever, and it would be dangerous if Ainsley maintained contact with the family.”

  “It would be fatal. She would have no peace of mind. Most importantly, she must leave no trail for Cringlewood to follow. I will not have either my niece or her baby put in danger
of discovery by that man.”

  For the last twenty-four hours, Royal had been suppressing his questions and his anger about the marquess, but he was done with that. “What the hell did the bastard do to her?”

  Lady Margaret snorted. “You may be able to intimidate the average ton dandy with that glower, Royal Kendrick, but it is wasted on me. Ainsley knows what she is about. If you are indeed her friend, you will support her, not question her.”

  “Of course I’m her friend,” he snapped.

  “Then leave it alone. Nothing good can come of drawing attention to her situation, I assure you.”

  Royal blew out a frustrated sigh and crossed his arms. “So, that’s it. She gives the baby away and returns to London, as if nothing ever happened.”

  “That is exactly it. If this situation can be managed, she is still young enough—and rich enough—to attract an excellent match. Although her other suitors are not as wealthy or as influential as Cringlewood, most would certainly make better husbands.”

  While Royal’s heart rebelled at the notion of the lass wedded to another man, Lady Margaret’s reasoning was sound. If Ainsley could overcome the trauma of giving away her child, she could return to the former life that had suited her so well.

  “But for some reason, she will not agree to the plan,” he said.

  “No,” she said. “Which is unfortunate. Ainsley is already growing attached to the babe. We’d hoped to have the wet nurse on the premises when she went into labor, so the child could have been removed right away. But the blasted woman won’t arrive until late tomorrow.”

  When she started to rise, he helped her up.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Now, make yourself useful. Go in and see how the girl does.”

  “You’ve already seen her?”

  “Before the doctor came.” She suddenly flashed him a sly grin. “Besides, she’d much rather see you than me.”

  He narrowed his gaze, suspicious. “You’re up to something, aren’t you?”

  She cackled. “I’ll be in the morning room. Come see me when you’re done.”

  After she tromped away, Royal quietly tapped on the door. A moment later Betty opened it.

  “Good morning, Betty.” He smiled when the girl stifled a yawn. “I take it you didn’t get much sleep last night, either.”

  She flashed him a charming set of dimples. “Aye, my bed is callin’ to me. I’ll be snugglin’ in for a nice, wee nap as soon as I can.”

  Ainsley, propped up in bed writing at a small lap desk, glanced up. “That will be all, Betty. You can go downstairs and get your breakfast.”

  The girl looked dubious. “Are ye sure, my lady? Mam said it wasn’t proper that I left ye alone with Mr. Kendrick last night. There not bein’ a proper chaperone, and all, after her ladyship retired.”

  Ainsley stared at the girl with disbelief. “I assure you, Mr. Kendrick and I will not be getting up to any frolics. Besides, you are the last person one can imagine serving as an effective chaperone.”

  “Happens you’re right, my lady. Mam says I’m a terrible flirt,” Betty cheerfully replied.

  “Your mother is a perceptive woman,” Ainsley said.

  Royal choked down a laugh that largely stemmed from the enormous relief flooding through his veins. Clearly in fine fettle, his sweet lass looked unexpectedly robust and so, so beautiful, even after what she’d just been through.

  “We’ll be sure to ring if we need anything,” he said to Betty.

  The maid flashed him another saucy smile. “Aye, sir, if ye need anything. Anything .”

  Including a frolic, apparently.

  “That girl is positively indefatigable,” Royal said after the door closed behind her.

  “You mean incorrigible,” Ainsley replied. “Not that I truly blame her. There’s not been a man under the age of sixty in this house for two months. She’s only got poor Willy to flirt with, and he’s only sixteen.”

  “I’m enjoying being the decorous one, for once,” he said, as he strolled over to the bed.

  The massive four-poster was ornately antique and, like the rest of the furniture, was from a time when clan fought clan and life in the Highlands was dramatic and wild. The setting was perfect for Ainsley, who might have been a Scottish princess come to lord it over her loyal subjects.

  Like me.

  She gave him a wry smile. “Everyone in my aunt’s household is so ridiculous that your dreadful manners pale in comparison.”

  When he burst into laughter, she cast a quick glance at the cradle by the fireplace.

  “Sorry,” he said softly. “I take it the little mite is sleeping.”

  “After I fed her, she went right to sleep. I must say, she’s a very good baby, so far.”

  Royal grinned. “She was only born six hours ago, lass. I’m not sure if that’s quite enough time to make a determination.”

  Ainsley’s chin went up in that imperious little tilt he loved. “I’m her mother, so I should know.”

  “I stand corrected.” He leaned against the bedpost, enjoying the sight of her.

  She was garbed in a white dressing gown lavishly trimmed with lace, and her ebony-silk hair was piled into a simple knot on the top of her head. With her pink-cheeked complexion and her clear violet gaze, Ainsley looked so lovely it was hard to believe that mere hours ago she’d been doubled over with pain, thin-lipped and sweating her way through each painful contraction.

  “And you’re really all right?” he asked softly.

  “Healthy as a heifer, according to Dr. MacTavish,” she said. “He made a point of telling me that my anatomy was exceedingly well designed for the task at hand, if you can believe it.”

  “‘Broad in the beam’ was the exact phrase, I believe.”

  She crinkled her nose. “How rude of you to remember.”

  “You know us Scots. Blunt to a fault.”

  “Appallingly so.” She tilted her head to study him. “Are you all right?”

  “Of course. Why do you ask?”

  “You look exhausted. Like you’ve been worrying yourself half to death.”

  He rubbed a finger along an old gouge in the bedpost. “Something like that, I suppose.”

  “You were thinking about your mamma,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. This must have been difficult for you.”

  It had been a difficult night, truth be told, worrying that the same dire fate might befall Ainsley. “I won’t deny to feeling a wee bit of concern, especially when the midwife booted me from the room. I would rather have stayed with you.”

  “Count yourself lucky you didn’t. The whole process is gruesome and rather scary.”

  “That’s exactly why I wanted to stay with you.”

  When she silently held out a hand, Royal came to the bed. As he curled his hand around her dainty fingers, emotion choked up his throat. It was from the old sorrow over the loss of his mother, of course, but even more so from the profound gratitude that Ainsley and the baby were alive and healthy.

  “Royal, I can’t thank you enough for being here,” she said in a gruff little voice. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  “I was happy to be here, lass. You know I would do anything for you.”

  Their gazes locked for a long moment, and something stark and even grief-stricken lurked in the violet depths of her eyes. It made his heart clench, as if something precious was slipping away.

  Then Ainsley shook off whatever it was. “I doubt Hector would have been able to pick me up. I still consider it a miracle that even someone as strong as you didn’t drop me.”

  “Och, ye’re as light as a feather,” he teased.

  “You’re positive you didn’t hurt your leg?”

  “I’m positive. Even if I had, it would have been worth it.”

  She flashed him another wry smile before withdrawing her hand. “You’re quite insane, sir, but I am most grateful.”

  “I’m just glad you and the babe are healthy.” He frowned. “She is
healthy, isn’t she?”

  “She certainly is. She’s a bit small, but perfectly fit. Dr. MacTavish said he’s rarely seen a baby as alert as she is,” Ainsley said proudly.

  Royal bit back a chuckle. He’d seen his share of newborn infants over the years. They always looked rather dazed to him, as if astonished and slightly embarrassed by their helpless state.

  “Then she obviously takes after her mother,” he said.

  Her gaze dimmed. “I hope so. I’d hate for her to take after her father in any way.”

  “She’ll be just like you,” he said firmly.

  “Would you like to see her?” she asked.

  “As long as you’re sure I won’t wake her.”

  “She seems to be a champion sleeper. She’ll be fine if you’re quiet.”

  Royal tiptoed over to the cradle. Inside, the wee baby girl was dressed in a white smock and covered with a soft wool blanket. Although small, as Ainsley had said, she was plump and healthy-looking, with pink cheeks and a profusion of dark curls. She was sound asleep, one little hand curled under her chin.

  “She’s perfect, isn’t she?” said her mother.

  “She is that.” He glanced over his shoulder. “You’re not swaddling her?”

  “The midwife suggested it, but the doctor and I disagreed.” She grinned. “Dr. MacTavish and Mrs. Peters had quite the set-to about it. I was forced to intervene.”

  “Good. It’s a barbaric custom, tying the wee mites up like a parcel.”

  She studied him. “You must know quite a bit about babies, having all those younger brothers. I keep forgetting that.”

  “Especially Kade,” he said, turning back to the cradle. “After our mother died, I spent a lot of time with him.”

  With the exception of Nick, who’d been forced to take charge of things, the entire family had fallen apart in the aftermath. Their father had been too wrenched with grief to even look at his newborn son. But as wrecked as he’d been too, Royal had known his mother had loved Kade with all her heart. She’d even told Royal to take care of his brother, just before she’d died. It had been his last promise to her, a solemn vow that was nothing like the silly promises rambunctious boys made to their mothers, ones meant to be broken.