Page 7 of The Highlander Who Protected Me

Cringlewood immediately adopted another outraged expression. “Since Lady Ainsley is to be my wife, she obviously does not feel uncomfortable with me.”

The floor tilted under Royal’s feet. He must even have staggered a bit, because Ainsley put a hand under his elbow.

“Be careful,” she said.

“Is it true?” he asked.

“Of course it’s true,” the marquess snapped. “We’re to be married by the end of the Season, as anyone with a brain in this town surely knows.”

“You get ahead of yourself, my lord,” Ainsley said coldly. “There has been no formal announcement, as you are well aware.”

Something in Royal’s chest seemed to explode. He almost thought to look down and see a gaping hole where his heart had been.

He took a step away from her that felt like a retreat back into darkness.

“So, you are betrothed.” He forced a little bow. “Allow me to offer my congratulations.”

She shook her head. “It’s not what you think. I mean . . .” She cast the marquess a frustrated glance as her voice trailed into silence.

“I demand to know what’s going on here,” Cringlewood said angrily.

After Ainsley maintained a tense silence, Royal shrugged. “I’m sorry to say, my lord, that your fiancée is a determined flirt who enjoys leading unsuspecting fools to their doom. As anyone with a brain in this town surely knows.”

She gasped, but he refused to spare her a glance as he limped away as quickly as his blasted leg could carry him.

Chapter One

Castle Kinglas, Scotland

April 1817

Clearly, not even his brother’s library could provide safe haven.

With a sigh, Royal glanced up from his book when his sister-in-law marched into the room. Though the former Victoria Knight was now Countess of Arnprior, and wife to the chief of Clan Kendrick, she was still very much a governess in spirit and looked ready to box his ears.

He raised a polite eyebrow. “Is there something I can do for you, my lady?”

She arched an eloquent brow in return. Perhaps they could conduct this sure-to-be-unpleasant discussion entirely through facial expressions.

No such luck,he thought, when Victoria raised an imperious finger.

“Indeed, there is. I want you to stop moping about the castle. You’ve been doing it all winter, and it’s become ridiculous.”

She was never one to mince words or shy away from an unpleasant task. And now that she’d sorted out his brothers, she’d clearly made Royal her special project.

“I’m not moping. I’m reading a very good book.”

Victoria glanced down at the leather-bound volume, then plucked it from his hand and turned it right side up.

Royal winced. “I was just giving my eyes a rest.”

“Of course you were,” she said dryly.

He’d barely glanced at the blasted thing, a history of the Punic Wars he’d ordered last month. After starting it with a fair degree of enthusiasm, he’d quickly lost interest. Today, he’d read only a few pages before his attention had wandered to the windswept vista of craggy peaks hulking over the loch behind Kinglas. Not even the dramatic beauty of the Highlands had the power to soothe him—not like it once had.

He supposed he could go fishing, which he normally enjoyed, but that hardly seemed worth the effort.

“At least join us for a cup of tea,” Victoria said in a coaxing voice, switching tactics. “Taffy made her special seedcakes for you. She said you barely touched your breakfast. Or your lunch, for that matter.”

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