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Sighing, she once more propped her book on her stomach and tried to focus on the page. It was quite a dreadful book, but she’d run out of reading material last week and had been forced to raid Aunt Margaret’s library. Sadly, her aunt’s taste tended to run to turgid philosophical tracts and bad translations of Latin poetry.
A quiet footstep sounded in the hall. She felt rather than saw someone pause in the doorway and heard a choked exclamation. Frowning, she glanced up, and what little brain she had left scattered like a flock of frightened starlings. Gazing back at her were the same green-glass eyes she’d been so vividly recalling only a few moments ago. That riveting gaze was now taking in her gigantic belly with ever growing astonishment.
Royal looked as tall, broad-shouldered, and handsome as ever. Many a susceptible girl had all but swooned when he came into a ballroom, imagining him to be a sensitive and romantic poet, with his brooding manner and extraordinary malachite eyes. His limp only added to the image, as did the dramatic Highland garb he wore to such effect.
The idiotic misses had been wrong, at least about the romantic, sensitive part. Royal was as blunt and bad-tempered as Ainsley.
At the moment, though, it wasn’t his looks or his manners that were stealing her breath. It was the horrifying realization that her secret was finally out.
When her head started to swim, she had to force herself to start taking in slow, deep breaths.
Don’t panic.
Royal was clearly stunned, which meant he hadn’t known about her condition. So now she just had to persuade him to keep his Scottish mouth shut.
“What are you doing here?” she blurted out.
He shook himself, almost like a retriever coming in from the rain. “I was checking to see if anyone actually lived in this benighted house. I found only the cook and her, er, charming daughter.”
Ainsley couldn’t help scowling. Betty was a very pretty girl, who was also not as big as a house.
“I suppose Betty flirted with you, didn’t she?” Then she mentally winced. Who the blasted man flirted with hardly mattered under the circumstances.
Royal stared at her for another excruciatingly long moment. Then he flashed a smile so warm and charming she went lightheaded again.
“You know I don’t flirt,” he said. Then he tilted his head, as if considering. The late afternoon sunlight caught the red in his burnished mahogany hair, making it glow like fire. “Except with you.”
Her heart skipped a beat. She ignored it, since her pulse was often a tad erratic these days.
“I repeat, sir,” she said firmly. “What are you doing here?”
“I should think it obvious. I’ve come to see you.”
He crossed the room to join her, his limp pronounced.
“Eating for two, I see,” he said, inspecting the generous tea service of sandwiches and cakes. “I hope you don’t mind sharing. I thought I would starve to death waiting in vain for your aunt to appear.”
“Ah, so you thought you’d explore on your own. That was brassy of you.”
When he sat down next to her, Ainsley tried to shift over to give him some room. Royal Kendrick was a big man, and given her present state it would be a miracle if the old chaise didn’t collapse under their combined weight.
“You don’t have to move,” he said. “There’s plenty of room for both of us.”
They were all but thigh-to-thigh.
She was reminded that Royal had very nice thighs, indeed. “You’re quite squishing me. You’re ridiculously big.”
“Not as big as you,” he said as he reached for a teacake.
She glared at him. “Thank you for reminding me what an imbecile you are.”
“I’m teasing, lass,” he said after he swallowed the teacake in one gulp. “You’re as lovely as always. But I’m sure you know that.”
When his gaze flickered over her body with evident appreciation, she couldn’t help gaping at him. How could a man find her attractive when her figure resembled the Prince Regent’s rotund bulk?
“Although your present condition does explain a few things,” he added.
Oh, God.Whatever must he think of her? This had to be the most embarrassing moment of her life.
