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Royal ducked his head against a gust of wind as he crossed the garden square. The weather in Glasgow had finally turned, the lingering warmth of summer fading into the cool mists of autumn. Soon enough snow would fall in the Highlands, enveloping Kinglas in the wintery blanket that cut it off from the outside world for days at a time. Royal had never found it isolating, due to his boisterous family and the small but vibrant community that made up life on the large estate.
But his wife was not designed for life in a remote Scottish glen, as their disastrous wedding trip had starkly illustrated. Better that they establish themselves in town, with only occasional visits to Kinglas. Glasgow was not the cheeriest of cities in the colder months, but there would be parties and assemblies over the holiday season, and visits with the Gilbrides and other friends to cheer up his long-suffering bride.
Not that she’d complained about her time at Kinglas, at least not lately. But if Ainsley had to spend any more time rattling around that drafty old pile, he feared she might succumb to her pent-up frustration and toss him into the frigid waters of the loch. It was a punishment he’d surely earned by making a cock-up of everything, including his wife’s sweetly awkward attempts to seduce him.
His blood still ran hot every time he thought about that episode. Royal had never seen anything more beautiful as his wife’s lush body, or felt more alive than when he’d brought her to a shivering climax in his arms. Ainsley in ecstasy was glorious, and he’d made a silent vow to spend the rest of his life repeating the experience.
Unfortunately, with a little help from his demented grandfather, life had decided to throw a spanner in the works. Getting thoroughly kneed in the bollocks had sent everything sliding sideways. Royal wasn’t proud of himself for losing his temper, but hewasonly human. For the second time that day, he’d been injured and humiliated by his wife, however inadvertently. The direct shot to the family jewels had finally tipped him over the edge.
Now, he and his wife were right back where they’d started—unable to have a sensible conversation that didn’t involve at least one misunderstanding, and still struggling to make their cobbled-together family work.
He slowed to a halt in the middle of the path, gazing absently at Kendrick House on the opposite side of the square. This marriage business was proving to be trickier than he’d expected, and he’d never expected easy.
When two little boys pelted by him on the path, shrieking at the top of their lungs, Royal jerked so hard that his hat toppled off. As always when startled by loud noises, his heart leapt forward like a frightened stag. It was a lingering effect from the battlefield that he loathed with a passion. Some days, he wondered if he would ever be the man he used to be—awholeman, not one with a mangled leg or a moody temperament that disconcerted even those who loved him most.
“Sorry, sir,” yelled one of the boys over his shoulder. “Our dog slipped her lead.”
Royal gave a wave and watched them race after a little black terrier in fast pursuit of an even faster squirrel. He couldn’t help smiling at their innocent glee. They reminded him of the twins at that age, miniature hellions constantly in trouble and yet as good-natured as any lad one could hope to meet.
Despite the family’s later travails, Royal had enjoyed a happy childhood. Roaming the hills around Castle Kinglas with his brothers, protected by loving, intelligent parents, had been close to idyllic. That is, until all the terrible deaths had started, battering them like a bloody great ram. For a time, the future had seemed poisoned.
But change had finally come to Kinglas, as change always must. It had brought them Victoria, who’d swept away sorrow like a housewife cleans out a musty closet, bringing light and air where they were needed most.
And then Ainsley had exploded into his life, dragging him up and out of the oubliette he’d built in his mind. She’d given him hope, she’d given him a daughter, and she’d given him a chance at a happy, normal life. He’d almost forgotten what such a life was like. But he remembered it now, and he was going to fight for it—for Ainsley, for Tira, and for himself.
Retrieving his hat from the dirt, he brushed it off and clapped it back on. Striding out of the square, he mentally ticked off his blessings. He had a family who loved him, a daughter he cherished, and a wife he adored. And if his wife didn’t adore him back, well, he was working on that part of the plan.
He limped up the steps of Kendrick House and knocked on the door rather than searching for his key.
“Good day, sir,” Will said as he opened the door. He took Royal’s hat. “Did ye have a good visit with Dr. Baker?”
Thanks to Angus, it was common knowledge in the Glasgow household that Royal had taken a bad fall. Nick, alarmed as always by any sign of physical ailment in his siblings, had insisted on a specialist, as had Ainsley. Royal had resisted for several days until Victoria finally begged him to put the rest of them out of their misery.
“Nicholas and Ainsley will simply pester you until you agree,” she’d said at breakfast yesterday.
Logan, reading the local gazette, had lowered the paper to eye him. “Better do it, old man. If you don’t, I’ll have to sling you over my shoulder and carry you there myself.”
“Try it and see what happens,” Royal had snorted.
“I know we’re fussbudgets,” Victoria had said with a placating smile. “But it’s because we care about you, my dear. We can’t help but worry.”
“Not me,” Logan had said, winking at him. “I’m just sick of hearing Nick and Ainsley whinge about it. It’s ‘Royal this’ and ‘Royal that.’ You’d think you were on your damn deathbed, instead of just limping about like some Byronic idiot in order to gain our sympathy.”
Since he couldn’t deny their logic, Royal had finally submitted to a lengthy and painful examination by Dr. Baker this morning. The truth was, the effects of his tumble had lingered, although he’d cut out his tongue before admitting it.
Stripping off his gloves, he handed them to the footman. “I’m fit as a fiddle.”
“Grand news, sir. Her ladyship and Mr. MacDonald will be that relieved to hear it, I ken.”
“No doubt.”
In fact, his wife and his grandfather would be receiving a heavily censored report. Although Baker had detected no lasting damage, he’d delivered a stern lecture on the need to rest and to ease back on his leg exercises. Royal had piously agreed while crossing his fingers behind his back. He had no intention of giving up on the exercises, since they were all that had ever helped to rebuild his strength. He now needed his strength more than ever.
“I take it that my brother and his wife got off in good order this morning?” he asked.
“Aye, sir. Lord and Lady Arnprior set off soon after ye left for the doctor’s.”
Nick and Victoria, along with Kade, had decided to return to Kinglas. As much as the family enjoyed one another’s company, Kendrick House was a little too crowded with most of them in residence, and the twins were expected home to Glasgow in a few days. Fortunately, both Nick and Victoria preferred Kinglas, and Kade went wherever they went. Royal would miss his little brother, but the lad was best left under their watchful and loving care.
