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“Truly?”
“Let me show you.”
Without any further ado, he wrapped his hands around her waist and picked her up, depositing her with easy strength onto his lap.
“Goodness,” she said, feeling a little breathless.
“There, see?” he said with a wicked smile as he arranged her to fully straddle his hips. “I think this will be the perfect position for both of us.” His questing fingers went to her stays, which were twisted sideways, half exposing her. “This doesn’t look very comfortable—”
When a thunderous knock sounded against the door, Ainsley squawked and almost tumbled backward.
Royal grabbed her arms and steadied her. “Easy, lass.”
She pressed a hand to her pounding heart. “Whoisthat?” she gasped.
“Likely just one of the servants checking on me. I’ll—”
“Laddie boy, are ye all right in there?” yelled Angus.
“Dammit to hell,” Royal muttered. Then he raised his voice. “I’m fine. Go away.”
“I’ll no be doin’ that until I check on that leg of yers. I’m comin’ in whether ye will it or no.”
Ainsley yelped and rolled sideways, trying to clear the bed before the old man charged into the room. When her knee connected with some part of Royal’s body, he let out a strangled cry as she scrambled down to the floor. Desperately, she yanked her stays over her breasts and pulled her bodice back into place. Then she popped up to look at her husband, terrified that she’d hurt him.
He was curled forward in a ball, his face a rictus of agony.
“Oh, my God, did I hurt your leg?” she blurted out. “Royal, I’m so sorry.”
Angus barreled up to the bed. “What the hell is goin’ on in here?” He scowled at Ainsley. “What did ye do to him, ye daft girl?”
Still in a crouch, Ainsley struggled to pull her tangled skirts over her legs. “I . . . I don’t know. I think I might have done something to his leg when I, um, got off the bed.”
Angus looked blank for a moment before peering down at his grandson. A slight smirk lifted the corners of his mouth. “I dinna think it’s his leg ye hurt.”
Her terror abated a jot.
“Are you sure?”
Cautiously getting up, she got a good look at Royal. He’d uncurled a bit, but his face had gone a ghostly white and his hands were down between his legs, covering . . .
“Oh, dear,” she said, mortified.
“Aye, now that’s a sad end to the evenin’,” Angus said, clearly trying not to laugh.
Ainsley glared at him. “It’syourfault.” She reached across the bed to pull the sheets up over her poor husband. “Here, Royal, let me help you.”
“That’s not the kind of help he needs, lass,” Angus said.
“I would be exceedingly grateful if you would both just get the hell out of here,” Royal said from between clenched teeth.
Ainsley’s stomach took a miserable twist. “Royal, I—”
“Please, Ainsley, justgo,” he snapped.
Feeling like an utter fool, she resisted blurting out yet another apology and fled the room.
Chapter Twenty
