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His grandfather handed over the small stack, not pausing for breath as he lectured Ainsley on the finer points of drooling babies. She, in turn, rolled her eyes and reminded Angus thatshewas Tira’s mother, and that a mother could always tell when her child was sick.
Despite the loud discussion, Royal couldn’t help smiling. His wife never backed down, which meant she was a perfect match for the Kendricks, whether she realized it yet or not.
He quickly shuffled through the mail, putting aside business correspondence for Nick or Logan. There was a note from Graeme, confirming that he would be returning to Glasgow in a few days, as well as a lengthy missive from Braden, which he would read later. There was also a letter from Grant to Angus and a few invitations to parties and assemblies.
At the bottom of the pile was a rare letter for Ainsley.
Estranged as she was from her family and most of her friends, his wife received little correspondence. It infuriated him whenever he thought of how quickly she’d been abandoned by those who claimed to love her. Ainsley put on a brave front, doing her best to ignore both slights and nasty gossip that filtered up from London. It mattered not that she was entirely innocent of any wrongdoing. In the eyes of the world, Ainsley was a jilt and a fool, giving up wealth, position, and status to marry a penniless, crippled Scotsman.
But the letter Royal held in his hand appeared to be from her mother, the one person who could have helped her after the rape and yet had refused to do so. And while one could always hope that Lady Aldridge was regretting the callous rejection of her only daughter, he found it hard to believe.
For a moment, he debated withholding the missive from Ainsley, hating to distress her or, worse, send her into a panic. But his wife was no fragile miss and wouldn’t thank him for treating her as if she was. Nor did he have the right to control her in so high-handed a fashion. That’s what Cringlewood had tried to do, and Royal was determined she never feel such a loss of power over her own life again.
When Ainsley happened to glance over at him, she frowned, turning her back on Angus. “Royal, is something wrong?”
“This appears to be a letter from your mother,” he replied.
She stared blankly for a moment before a hectic flush reddened her pale complexion. “Oh, well, that’s a surprise. I wasn’t expecting to hear from anyone in my family.”
“Best throw it in the fire, lass,” Angus said. “That mother of yers is a right—”
“That’s enough, Grandda.” Royal leaned forward and took Ainsley’s hand. It trembled slightly. “I can read it for you, sweetheart, if you’d rather.”
She mustered a lopsided smile and took the small, folded packet from him. “I’m not such a faint-heart that I need my husband to read my mail. It might be about my father, you know. He’s not been well, and Mamma did promise to write if he took a turn for the worse.”
Royal nodded before glancing at Angus, who looked ready to leap out of his chair and snatch the paper from her grip. “Grandda, would you mind getting me another whisky? My leg is a bit twitchy, and I’d prefer not to get up right at the moment.”
Properly diverted, the old fellow trotted off to the drinks trolley. “Aye, lad. Don’t fash yerself. I’ll fetch it for ye.”
When Angus returned with drinks for both of them, Royal handed him the letter from Grant. His grandfather settled into his chair to read it, while Royal pretended to peruse the missive from Braden. In truth, though, he watched Ainsley, who was worrying her lower lip as she read. He couldn’t fail to notice that the bright blush of a few minutes ago was draining from her cheeks, leaving her pale as chalk.
“Ainsley, is something wrong?” he asked.
She jumped in her seat. “Um, what?”
“Did your mother say something to upset you?”
Her gaze appeared fastened on him, but Royal got the distinct impression that whatever she was seeing, it wasn’t him. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled.
“Ainsley, something is wrong, isn’t it?” he asked.
“No,” she whispered.
“Are ye sure, lass?” Angus asked. “Yer lookin’ fair hipped, ye are.”
Her gaze darted nervously between them. Then she drew in a breath and dredged up an entirely artificial smile. “My mother simply wished to pass along some news about the family. My brother’s wife is with child, and Mamma thought I should know, since it’s unlikely that my brother or his wife will write to inform me that such is the case.”
“Nincompoops,” Angus said in a disgusted tone.
“Indeed.” Ainsley briskly folded up the letter and rose to her feet. “If you’ll excuse me, I must write a reply, then check on Tira. I’ll see you both at dinner.”
Royal pushed himself up. “Ainsley, wait just a moment.”
But she was already halfway out the door.
Angus stared after her, tapping a thoughtful finger on his chin. “I do believe something’s amiss with your lady. She lit out of here like a pack of hellhounds was snappin’ at her arse.”
“Just one hellhound, I think,” Royal said in a grim tone. “And I have a good idea of who it is.”
