The Highlander Who Protected Me (Clan Kendrick #1)

by Vanessa Kelly

  “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.”

  Chapter Nine

  If Royal had just taken a
mouthful of tea, he probably would have spit it all over her pretty gown. He had the feeling his eyes were bugging out of his skull as he stared at her beautiful, tense features.

  Ainsley’s image had haunted his sleep for months. But even those dreams—nightmares, in a way, since he always woke to bitter reality—had started to fade. He’d begun to accept that she would never be his and was finally making his peace with it.

  Now here she was, upending his life yet again.

  “Ainsley, did you really just ask me to marry you?”

  Her pale cheeks threw up red flares. “Are you now troubled with hearing problems? That would be unfortunate, given your other afflictions.”

  Royal pinched his nose. This was the Ainsley he knew, the living definition of chaos. She’d blown up his life more times than he could count. But she’d also given him back his life, and at the precise moment when he thought he had nothing to live for. She’d dragged him back from the brink in a fury of white-hot emotion he would never forget.

  She’d also given him Tira, the best gift of all.

  And now she wanted to marry him. After everything they’d been through, it was utterly, wonderfully absurd.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her brow suddenly wrinkling with concern. “Are you trying not to sneeze?” Then she sighed. “Oh, blast, are you growing sick on top of everything else? That’s just perfect.”

  Royal couldn’t help it. He burst into laughter so hard it made his gut ache before he managed to bring himself under control. Then he caught her indignant expression and went off into another round of guffaws.

  “If you don’t stop this instant, I will brain you with that fire iron,” she threatened, pointing to the hearth tools.

  He wiped his eyes. “We wouldn’t have much of a discussion after that, I imagine. And I’d have another disability to contend with.”

  Ainsley drew herself up straight, looking immensely offended. God, he’d missed her imperious snits. Even if she boxed his ears, it would be worth it.

  Aye, he was still in a bad way when it came to Lady Ainsley Matthews.

  But as much as he loved the mother, there was now the daughter to consider. Whatever crack-brained idea Ainsley had come up with, it would be his responsibility to make sure it didn’t harm Tira or her in any way.

  “If you’re going to be ridiculous,” she said in frosty tones, “I’ll leave and come back when you’re capable of sensible conversation.”

  Ah. Royal heard a hint of vulnerability and even a wee bit of shame behind that infamous dignity of hers.

  He never wanted her to feel ashamed. Not with him.

  When she made to stand, he wrapped a hand around her wrist. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to offend you. You simply surprised me.”

  She huffed a bit. “You were very rude. It’s not easy for a woman to make an offer of marriage, you know. It’s not the done thing.”

  He smiled at her. “And when have we ever done the done thing?”

  She twisted her mouth sideways for a moment before letting go of her outrage. “Never, I suppose. We always seem to do everything backward.”

  “It makes life more interesting, doesn’t it?”

  She eyed him, as if uncertain of his mood. “I meant it, though.”

  “Meant that you need my help, or meant your rather exciting marriage proposal?”

  “Both.”

  “Then we need something stronger than tea for this discussion,” he said, standing up. “A sherry, perhaps?”

  She wrinkled her pretty nose. “I don’t think sherry will quite do it. Do you have brandy?”

  “Of course.”

  The angry flush in her cheeks had faded, leaving her pale and weary looking. And although she tried to hide it, she was shivering. Ainsley had always been a robust girl, not one of your Dresden misses. But now that he’d gotten over the shock of seeing her, Royal noted that she’d lost a great deal of weight—more than the baby weight. Though her figure still possessed exceedingly delightful curves, she seemed almost fragile.

  He stirred the fire and added some coal, which earned him a grateful smile. Then he crossed to the drinks trolley to pour a whisky for him and a brandy for her. Clearly, they both needed a bit of liquid courage to smooth the tricky conversation ahead.

  After handing Ainsley her glass, he pulled his chair around so they could face each other. He needed to look into her amazing violet eyes while they thrashed this out. Needed to sense her emotion. And he wanted to be close to her. To breathe in her enticing, jasmine-scented perfume, to see the faint blush that colored her pale skin when her emotions ran high.

  Whatever else would come of this day, she was with him now. He would cherish the moment he thought he’d never have again.

  They sat knee to knee while she sipped her brandy. He was pleased to see some color returning to her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry I was mean to you,” she said. “But you rather deserved it.”

  “I did. But there’s very little you can say to me that would truly insult me, Ainsley.”

  “It’s one of the things I most like about you,” she confessed. “It’s quite nice not to have to worry about someone taking offense at everything I say.”

  “Certainly not offended, but curious. Sweetheart, why the change of heart? I’ve asked you to marry me more times than I can count, and you always refused me.”

  “I know,” she said with a sigh. “I must seem ridiculous.”

  “Charmingly so, naturally. But I take it your proposal has more to do with the trouble you mentioned than a sudden discovery of an undying passion for me.”

  He spoke lightly, since he didn’t want to embarrass her. But only an idiot would think Ainsley had spent the last four months pining for him.

  Too bad his stupid heart was hoping, in fact, that she had.

  Ainsley put down her glass and took his hand, threading her fingers through his. Everything inside him came to life at her touch, like a parched garden reviving with a spring shower. He wrapped that little hand up in both of his.

  “Royal, surely you know I’m exceedingly fond of you,” she said earnestly. “What we felt for each other in London, when we first met, well . . . I didn’t fake that, despite what appearances might have suggested.”

  “I know,” he said gruffly.

  “I care for you very much—more than any man, in fact. So, please don’t think I’m taking any of this lightly or trying to take advantage of your kind feelings for me.”

  He smiled at her tepid description of his emotions. “You can take advantage of me as much as you want, lass.”

  Amusement gleamed in her eyes for a moment before she sobered. “I’ve changed my mind because I’m in serious trouble. Marrying you would be the best solution to my problem.”

  “Which is?”

  She withdrew her hand and curled it tensely in her lap. “It’s twofold, but the most pressing one is that Cringlewood has threatened to expose me if I do not agree to marry him by the end of the month. He will let it be known that I slept with him and then refused his offer to marry.”

  “God,” Royal muttered, disgusted. “He really is a complete bastard.”

  “I assure you he would take great delight in humiliating me if I refused.”

  “Why don’t you just call him a liar to his face? It’s his word against yours. It’s not like you and your family aren’t wealthy and well regarded, too.”

  “Royal, you do understand how the world works, do you not? Women always take the blame in these sorts of situations. Always.”

  “I understand that such is usually the case. But you’ve never chased after men or acted in any way to damage your reputation. The opposite, in fact.”

  “You mean I have no bones about humiliating men if they annoy me?” She sighed. “That is unfortunately true, and it means I have more than my share of detractors. Cringlewood will be clever about it too. He won’t come right out with it. Instead, he’ll start a whisper campaign, putting out nasty
little rumors that will slowly but thoroughly destroy my reputation.”

  He grimaced at the ugly but all-too-real scenario. “Yes, I see, and it’s appalling. Yet, though I don’t mean to make light of it, surely the damage would only be temporary. Tira is safe with me, and your parents won’t throw you out in the street. The scandal would eventually fade and you could once again return to your old life.”

  He didn’t want to lose her again, but he needed to make sure, for all their sakes, that she truly wanted this marriage.

  “Royal, you have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said tartly. “My family and I would be utterly humiliated. I would be forced to retire permanently to some out-of-the-way village. My friends would shun me and my family would hate me. I did not go through all the trouble of concealing my pregnancy to spend the rest of my life in exile because of what that vile man did to me. He was the one who wronged me .”

  By the time she finished, fury shimmered in the air around her. Her sense of frustrated rage filled Royal with a deep foreboding.

  He took her hands again. They were shaking, so he gently squeezed them. “Ainsley, please tell me the truth. Did he force himself on you?”

  When she flinched, and her gaze slid away, his stomach twisted into a thousand knots.

  “Love, I would never judge you,” he said. “But I need to know what happened. I need to know how to . . . to manage this.”

  And how to manage her. Because it now seemed clear that Ainsley had been grievously wounded.

  When she finally returned his gaze, it was both defiant and vulnerable. “Yes, he forced me.”

  Royal closed his eyes against the blinding rush of dark emotion. For her sake, he’d wanted to believe that such had not been the case, that Cringlewood hadn’t physically harmed her. But now her stark admission ripped through his heart like an exploding shell.

  He opened his eyes. “I am going to London, and I’m going to beat the living shite out of him.”

  “No, you are not,” she said firmly.

  “He hurt you, and he needs to be punished.” Royal should have trusted his bloody instincts and done that long ago. Instead, he’d allowed the bastard to get away with the worst act a man could perpetrate against a woman.