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Tira startled a bit at her mamma’s sharp tone but thankfully didn’t start crying.
“Of course you do,” Royal said in a soothing tone. “You’re very adept with her. Angus is just making a little joke.”
“A very little one,” she said acidly.
When Angus sneered at her, Royal ground his teeth. Clearly, the exceedingly short-lived truce was over. Not that Ainsley had known there was a truce in the first place, which was part of the problem.
A distraction was needed.
“Oh, look,” he said. “I think Tira’s nose is running.”
At even the slightest suggestion that something might be amiss with her daughter, Ainsley was instantly diverted. She craned over sideways to get a good look at Tira, who had flopped back onto her stomach and was snuffling into the blanket. A moment later, she stiffened and let out a furious sneeze.
“Oh, dear,” Ainsley said, “I hope her cold isn’t coming back.”
“I told ye, the lassie doesna have a cold,” Angus said. “Probably just a wee bit of dust up her nose from the blanket.”
“And who put her down on a dusty blanket?” she demanded.
Royal plucked a napkin off the tea tray and handed it to her. “I put her on the blanket, and it’s not the least bit dusty. Please don’t even suggest such a thing to Taffy. She’d have a heart attack.”
“I wouldn’t think of insulting your housekeeper,” Ainsley said as she awkwardly swiped at Tira’s nose. Unfortunately, the baby wriggled about like an eel to avoid her mother’s ministrations. “She’s the only sane person in this place.”
“The only sane woman, you mean,” Angus muttered.
Royal was spared the need to murder his grandfather by the fact that Ainsley’s attention was focused solely on trying to wipe Tira’s nose.
“Perhaps you should pick her up and put her on your lap?” Royal finally suggested. “That way you can get a firm grip on her.”
“She’ll probably start crying if I do that,” Ainsley said.
“Babies cry, love. It’s on their list of regular duties.”
She threw him a wry glance. “I know I need to stop being so skittish about it.”
“Practice makes perfect,” he said.
She picked Tira up and carefully hoisted her onto her lap, facing forward. Wrapping an arm around her little waist to hold her steady, Ainsley reached around to wipe the bairn’s nose. Tira fussed a bit, but then allowed it.
“Well, would ye look at that? Ye might be getting the hang of this motherin’ business, after all,” Angus said in a tone suggesting the Red Sea had just parted out in the garden.
“Hold still, little one,” Ainsley crooned. She leaned forward a bit more, the tip of her tongue between her teeth as she dabbed at her daughter’s nose.
Tira chose that moment to finally object, knocking her mother’s hand away and then rearing back with all her infant strength. The top of her skull connected solidly with Ainsley’s chin.
“Ouch,” Ainsley yelped.
They all froze for a subsequent moment of horrified silence before Tira let out a piercing wail. Royal jumped up and hurried to join Ainsley, who now looked on the verge of tears herself.
“Oh, God,” she said. “Did I hurt her?”
“I suspect it’s the other way around, sweetheart,” Royal said. “I’m sure she’s fine, but why don’t you give her to me?”
Silently, she handed the baby up, then clambered awkwardly to her feet. Royal ran a careful hand over the back of Tira’s head. Despite her tears, she didn’t flinch, which confirmed his suspicions that most of the damage had been done to Ainsley’s poor face.
As he rocked her, Tira quickly started to calm down.
“She’s fine,” he assured his clearly distressed wife.
