Page 8 of The Highlander Who Protected Me

He glanced over to see a generous tea service set up on the low table in front of the library’s fireplace. He hadn’t even noticed the footman lug the damn thing in.

His sister-in-law’s understanding gaze—along with the fact that Taffy, the castle’s housekeeper, thought he needed coddling—triggered an irrational spurt of irritation.

“I’m not one of your pupils, Victoria. Don’t try to manage me with promises of treats.”

“True. My students invariably displayed better manners.”

“She’s got you there, old fellow,” said Nick from behind the ledgers stacked on his desk. “Youhavebeen moping about. More than usual, that is. It’s time you do something about it.”

When Nick and Victoria exchanged furtive glances, Royal had to repress a groan. Clearly, they’d planned this little ambush.

He put his book aside and glared at his older brother with predictably no effect. The Earl of Arnprior was well used to his obstreperous siblings, since he’d all but raised them after the death of their parents. Although the most generous of men, Nick was the proverbial unmovable object when it came to deciding his family’s best interests. And once he made a decision, it all but required an Act of Parliament to change it.

“I repeat, I amnotmoping,” Royal said. “And don’t you have enough to worry about without fretting over me like a granny with gout?”

As usual, Nick was buried under the mountain of work that came with managing the estate, not to mention a large and sometimes fractious Highland clan. Any normal man would founder under the load, but he never failed to rise to the challenge. And now that he’d married Victoria, Nick had finally found the richly deserved happiness so long denied him.

Royal couldn’t help feeling envious of having a loving wifeanda sense of purpose—the feeling that one’s life mattered. A compelling reason to wake up in the morning had been lacking in his life for a long time.

Nick had once relied quite heavily on Royal’s support for everything from running the estate to managing the younger lads. But Victoria now appropriately filled that role, as well as still tutoring Kade, the youngest Kendrick. The boy had struggled for years with ill health, but under Victoria’s loving care, he grew stronger by the day.

Aye, she was a blessing, was the new Countess of Arnprior, though not entirely for Royal. His sister-in-law was as bad as her lord when it came to wanting to repair the broken things around Castle Kinglas, including him.

“And you needn’t regard me as if I’m falling into a decline,” Royal said to her. “I’m perfectly fine. Better than ever, in fact.”

Instead of contradicting that obvious load of bollocks, Victoria smiled. “Of course you are, dear. But I would feel better if you had something to eat.”

She held out a hand.

Sighing, he took it, because today he did need help getting to his feet. The pain was always worse in blustery, damp weather. Some days Royal feared he was losing ground with his recovery. Though he faithfully followed the regime of rest and exercise prescribed by the London sawbones, his pain somehow seemed linked to the heaviness in his heart.

“Need help?” Nick asked.

“I’m not a cripple,” Royal gritted out, even as he struggled to stand.

“And you know I’m stronger than I look,” Victoria said to her husband.

“Aye. Skinny but strong as an ox,” Nick said with a grin.

“If that’s the sort of compliment you employed to woo the poor girl, it’s a wonder Victoria ever married you,” Royal said as he found his footing.

Victoria laughed. “That’s what my grandfather used to say when I was a young girl hanging about the stables of his coaching inn. I loved helping with the horses.”

“He was right,” said Royal. “For such a weeSassenach, you’re quite hardy.”

“I have to be to survive a houseful of wild Highlanders,” she cheerfully replied, watching Royal carefully to make sure he wouldn’t topple over. “I know. I’m an old mother hen.”

When his gaze strayed to the decanters of whisky behind his brother’s desk, she waggled a finger. “Tea and something to eat first, Royal.”

“Old mother hen is an understatement.” He patted her on the shoulder. “You do realize you cannot fix everything, no matter how hard you try.”

“I know, and it’s just aboutkillingme.” When he started to laugh, she jabbed him in the arm. “But don’t think I’m giving up, either.”

“Thank you for the warning.”

Nick joined them at the tea table, dropping a quick kiss on his wife’s head after she took her seat. “I think we’re being a bit hard on you,” he said. “You’ve done a splendid job organizing the family and estate papers, and we all know they were in . . . quite the state.”

“Catastrophic disarrayis the phrase you were searching for,” Royal said.

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