Page 73 of The Highlander Who Protected Me

“Hear anything interesting, Grandda?” Royal asked sardonically.

“Not a bloody word,” the old man groused. “Ye both mumble too much.”

“We’ll talk later,” Royal said. “For now, I’d like you to bring Tira down.”

Angus gaped at him, thunderstruck. “Doon here? To seeher?”

“Yes.”

“But the wee lass is nappin’,” he protested. “And, besides, I dinna ken—”

“Now, Grandda,” Royal ordered, gently shoving him out of the room.

Ainsley stood up. “This is going to be a disaster, isn’t it?” She couldn’t help wringing her hands. “Angus is going to try to ruin everything.”

“No need to worry, love. He’s devoted to Tira. He’ll only want the best for her, and that means her mamma.”

Ainsley was quite sure Angus would not consider that the best thing for Tira.

She began pacing the room. Thankfully, Royal didn’t urge her to sit or attempt to calm her with silly platitudes. He simply watched her, radiating waves of quiet reassurance.

The biggest miracle of all was about to happen. She’d finally have everything she’d fought so diligently to achieve—her daughter, and a husband strong enough and devoted enough to protect them both.

And yet she’d never been more terrified in her life.

A few minutes later, Angus walked in, cradling the baby wrapped in a plaid blanket. Royal took Tira and came over to Ainsley, who stood frozen like a lump in front of the fireplace.

“Here’s your daughter,” he murmured. “And she’s a bonny lass, just like her mother.”

She had to blink furiously as she gazed at the sleeping baby in his arms. Tira had the sweetest, chubbiest cheeks, a wealth of glossy black hair, and the most adorable nose Ainsley had ever seen. In short, she was the most beautiful baby who’d ever lived.

“Would you like to hold her?”

Ainsley hardly dared breathe. “May I?”

Angus popped up behind Royal’s shoulder. “Best not. The lassie’s always a wee bit cranky if ye startle her out of a nap.”

“It’ll be fine, Angus,” Royal said.

Ainsley couldn’t help flashing the old man a smug grin. He scowled and uttered a few choice words under his breath.

“I certainly hope you never talk like that around Tira,” she said.

“She’s used to it,” Royal dryly said. “Here, take her.”

Carefully, he eased the babe into her embrace. Ainsley held the soft weight in her arms, amazed at how big her daughter had grown.

Angus sidled around to stand close to her. “Make sure ye support her neck, or she’ll be floppin’ about like a fish.”

Ainsley huffed but followed his instructions. While Angus might be a horrible old man, he clearly knew his way around babies.

“That’s it,” Royal said. “You’re a natural.”

Ainsley flashed him a grin. “I was very good with her when she was a newborn, if you recall.”

Although Tira was still asleep, her face was now screwed up in a frown, as if something troubled her. Perhaps it was the blanket, which had twisted a bit under her chin. Ainsley jiggled her more securely in her arm and tried to rearrange the soft wool wrap.

Tira’s eyes suddenly flew open, and Ainsley found herself staring into a deep violet gaze that matched her own. It was a sleepy gaze, certainly, but a mirror image of hers nonetheless.

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