Page 82 of The Highlander Who Protected Me

Ainsley sighed and gingerly took the baby.

He still couldn’t believe the change in her. Right after Tira’s birth, Ainsley had taken to motherhood with brilliant, easy grace. Now, though, she was awkward and anxious. The problem was no doubt exacerbated by having to pretend she barely knew Tira, and keeping her emotions on a tight leash. The need to play a false role was getting in the way of her natural maternal instincts.

She adjusted her hold, fitting Tira into the crook of her arm. When she glanced at Royal, her face lit up like the most beautiful star in the night sky.

“Now you’re getting the hang of it,” he said, forcing the words past the emotion tightening his throat. God, he adored her.

“There, now,” Victoria said. “She just needed to settle down—”

An earsplitting wail cut her off, and Ainsley all but jumped out of her shoes. Thankfully, she kept a firm hold on her daughter.

“Well, that settles it,” she said with a grimace. “Tira hates me.”

Royal shook his head. “Hush, daft girl. Just rock her a bit.”

She looked dubious, but gently began rocking her daughter from side to side, softly murmuring endearments. Unfortunately, the wails kept building, reaching a crescendo that shredded the serene atmosphere of the park.

“You’d better take her before a constable arrives to arrest us for disturbing the peace,” Ainsley said, handing her over to Royal. “Honestly, sometimes I think—” She bit off whatever she was about to say.

“What?” he asked.

She managed a smile. “Nothing. I’m just being silly.”

He propped Tira on his shoulder and began patting her back. “Shush, little lass. Papa’s got you.”

The baby cried for another minute or so but eventually settled into a series of hiccups as she rubbed her tear-streaked face against his coat. Ainsley studied them fiercely, her expression a heartbreaking mix of frustration and longing. Then she turned away to briskly rearrange the blankets in the carriage.

Royal breathed out a quiet sigh. Fate seemed to be conspiring against Ainsley in the cruelest way through her daughter’s apparent rejection. Combined with his family’s wary attitude toward her, it would be no surprise if she regretted the decision to torch her old life.

It was up to him to fix that.

“Ah, I believe I have deduced the source of little Miss Kendrick’s problem,” he said. “This lass is in desperate need of a change.”

Ainsley was fussing with an oddly bedraggled doll. “I suppose we should return to the house. We’re hardly equipped to change her on a park bench, despite your vaunted skills.”

“Kade and I will take her,” Victoria said. She flicked Ainsley a meaningful glance before smiling at Royal. “I assume you came home from the office to have lunch with us?”

He nodded.

“Well, then there’s time for you and Ainsley to have a nice stroll around the park. In any event, luncheon can certainly be pushed back.”

“But I’m starving,” Kade protested.

“You can have a nice piece of fruit or a glass of milk,” Victoria said in a voice brooking no protest.

“Fruit. Ugh,” the lad grumbled.

“Thank you, Victoria,” Ainsley said. “I’d quite like a walk.”

When the women exchanged another knowing glance, Royal lost any doubt that a conspiracy was afoot. So be it, then. As much as he wanted to avoid putting any pressure on Ainsley, it was past time they sorted out their unresolved issues.

“I’ll return Tira to her nursemaids,” Victoria said, “and then perhaps Kade and I can look at a new piece of music to pass the time until you return.” She smiled at the lad. “Would you like that?”

“Better than eating a moldy old piece of fruit,” Kade said, perking up.

“Splendid. Royal, why don’t you put Tira back in the carriage so we can be off.”

“I think she’d rather be carried.” He handed the baby to Kade. “Here, lad, make yourself useful.”

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