Page 9 of The Highlander Who Protected Me

“Don’t let Angus hear you. He all but flayed me alive when I took the job from him and gave it to you.”

“So I heard. My ears are still ringing.”

Nick laughed. “Aside from the fact that Angus is a disaster when it comes to paperwork, the old fellow’s getting on in years. He’s earned his rest.”

“I hope to God you didn’t tell him so,” Royal said. Their grandfather would be devastated if he thought they were putting him out to pasture.

“Since my instincts for self-preservation are quite good, I did not,” Nick replied.

When Nick and Royal were away during the war, Angus had managed affairs at Kinglas, watching over the younger Kendricks and serving as estate steward. He’d done his best, but with mixed results. The old fellow had an abiding mistrust of modernity—which to him meant anything after the last Stuart monarch.

“Angus did mention that you did a passable job organizing the papers,” Victoria said as she poured them each a cup of tea. “Which from him is high praise, indeed.”

“Seriously,” Nick said, “I can’t thank you enough for taking that on. I know it was gruesome.”

Royal shrugged and reached for a seedcake. “I was happy to do so.”

Oddly enough, that had turned out to be true. His big brother had dragooned him into taking on the job, determined to get Royal “off his arse.”

“You need to accept that your military days are over,” Nick had said, adopting his most lordly manner. “It’s time to figure out what you wish to do with your life and then simply get on with it.”

The problem was, Royalstilldidn’t have a clue what he wanted to do.

All he seemed to be good for was mooning over Ainsley Matthews and wondering what might have happened between them if he hadn’t been stupid enough to abduct her back in January. He’d kidnapped her with the best of intentions, determined to save her from an arranged marriage she was trying to avoid. Of course, he would have gained the only woman who’d ever made him feel truly alive, but that was beside the point. He’d done it forher, and any benefits accruing to him would have been merely accidental.

Still, he knew that reasoning was utterly insane. Ainsley hadn’t wanted to marry him only slightly less fervently than she hadn’t wanted to marry the Marquess of Cringlewood. She’d made that clear in language so caustic it was a wonder he hadn’t been reduced to a pile of smoldering ash.

After Ainsley departed for her great-aunt’s manor house a few hours north of Kinglas, Royal had descended into an even gloomier mood alleviated only by drastic amounts of whisky. Fed up, Nick had finally shoved him into the dusty old estate office and ordered him to work. And wonder of wonders, reading through the history of his family and clan had been absorbing. Putting those records in order, watching the ancient story unfold over the centuries, had given Royal a renewed appreciation for his heritage. The proud Kendricks had fought hard for their rightful place in the history of Scotland, and their story was worth remembering.

For a while, the Kendrick sense of pride had even rubbed off on him.

“For all the good it’ll do me now,” Royal muttered into his teacup.

“What’s that?” Nick asked.

Royal waved off the question. “As I said, I was happy to help, especially since it put an end to your incessant nagging.”

His brother adopted an air of mild offense. “I never nag anyone. I simply pass on a suggestion now and again.”

Victoria choked on her tea.

Nick gently patted her on the back. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

“Just a little something in my throat,” she said as she exchanged amused glances with Royal. Though the Earl of Arnprior always had everyone’s best interest in mind, whether the rest of the family agreed with his determination ofbest interestwas another matter.

Victoria put down her teacup. “The fact remains that unless we intend to start Royal on the laundry lists, his task has been completed.”

“I suppose that’s why you’ve taken up brooding again,” Nick said. “Nothing else to occupy your mind.”

Except for the debacle with Ainsleywas the clear implication.

“You make it sound as though I’ve made a hobby out of it,” Royal said.

“You rather have, dear,” Victoria said.

“And you’re bloody good at it,” Nick wryly added.

Royal mentally winced. “Everyone’s got to be good at something.”

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