Page 42 of The Highlander Who Protected Me

“Well, I do hate your grandfather,” she admitted. “But the rest are quite nice.”

“Even the twins?”

“They’ll probably be all right once they get older.” She hesitated for a moment. “Probably. But the rest of you are quite splendid.”

Royal felt like he’d been run over by a herd of wild boar. “And you’re willing to have your baby raised in Scotland?”

“Better than in England on Cringlewood’s estates,” she said, her voice taking on a bitter tinge. “I know she will be safe at Castle Kinglas, as safe as she could be anywhere on earth. And since the Kendricks rarely travel south of the border, any possible connection to me will quickly fade.”

It took a moment for the full weight of her words to sink in. When it did, he felt the blow through his entire body.

Ainsley abruptly withdrew her hand, her gaze sliding sideways. “It does mean, of course, that we can never see each other again. It would be too great a risk.”

When he cursed under his breath, she faltered. “Or . . . or at least not for a long time. It’s the only way to keep me safe, Royal. To keep my baby safe.”

“You mean keep your blasted reputation safe.” When she flinched, he mentally cursed himself. “I’m sorry. I had no right to say that.”

She shook her head. “No, you have every right. And I do want to protect my reputation, which is admittedly selfish of me, but it’s more than that. The only true way to protect my baby is to pretend that I never gave birth to her.”

“I understand.”

He did, too. But it did nothing to patch the hole in the middle of his chest.

“I’m so dreadfully sorry,” she said quietly. “I have no right to ask this of you. If it’s too much . . .”

Royal knew he was the one being selfish. After all, he’d promised Ainsley countless times that he would do anything to help, anything to protect her. That had to mean a willingness to take on any sacrifice or pain, any responsibility, even one this enormous. If not, the promise had meant nothing.

“Of course you should ask me,” he said, “and I’m honored you did.”

She ducked her head. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You’re incredibly kind.”

He didn’t feel kind. He felt like cursing the heavens, raging at the injustice of it all—for him, for Ainsley, and for the innocent babe.

Looking down at the bundle in his arms, he studied the sweet, slumbering child. Something both terrible and wonderful stirred in his chest, filling the dark hole just a wee bit.

“So, I’m to walk into Kinglas with this little lass and say what, exactly?”

Ainsley’s head jerked up, her eyes going wide. “Does that mean you’ll do it?” She sounded breathless.

He gazed at the woman he adored—the woman he was losing all over again, and this time forever. “Aye, lass. I’ll take your daughter, and I’ll cherish her like my own.”

Chapter Six

Ainsley stood in the shelter of the staircase, watching the bustle in the entrance hall. Today Royal would take her baby away. From this day forward, Ainsley would have no say in her daughter’s life.

She glanced at the darling bundle in her arms. Her daughter, asleep as usual, was wrapped against the gusting breeze off the loch, a soft knit cap on her little head and a cashmere blanket softly swaddling her. Royal had sent an express to his brother, requesting Arnprior’s coach. Along with the wet nurse, he and the baby would make the journey to Kinglas in safety and comfort, guarded by the earl’s grooms.

But Ainsley still worried. Her daughter was but four days old and shouldn’t even be out of her mamma’s arms, much less taking a carriage journey. But escaping as soon as possible to avoid discovery was paramount.

She sucked in a harsh breath to stem the tears. Not only was she losing her child, she was losing Royal and all they might have been to each other. He was the only man she’d ever thought she could love.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered to her daughter. “It’s my fault. I should have been smarter and braver.”

No matter how hard she pummeled her brain, she could see no path forward but this one.

Her daughter stirred, her rosebud mouth gaping open in an endearing yawn. Her eyelids fluttering open, her deep blue glaze unfocused and soft with sleep, she stared up at Ainsley for several long seconds, then snuffled a bit as her eyelids drifted back down. Soon, her breathing evened out and she slumbered once more.

“Oh, you are thebestbaby.” Ainsley couldn’t hold back a watery laugh. “It’s a miracle how splendid you are.”

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