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Taking in her stern countenance, Royal could believe it. Still . . .
“Tell me how you’ve been managing these last few months. After all, peopledoknow you’re visiting your aunt. Don’t they wonder why you’ve gone into seclusion?”
Ainsley shot her aunt a disgusted look. “Aunt Margaret has told everyone I’m suffering from melancholy and occasionally even fall into bouts of hysteria. Dr. MacTavish has recommended total seclusion and complete bedrest.”
When Lady Margaret flashed him a smug grin, Royal had to chuckle. Ainsley was not a woman prone to hysterics.
“I’m glad you both find it so amusing,” Ainsley grumbled. “Because I’ll never live it down.”
“Better than Cringlewood finding out your secret,” Lady Margaret replied.
Royal’s amusement suffered a quick death. Ainsley refused to meet his eye, but he could sense anxiety curling within her like a tangled skein of yarn.
“Yes, about that,” he said.
When the clock on the mantelpiece chimed, Lady Margaret looked surprised.
“Heavens, look at the time,” she said. “I must be off to bed.” It was only nine o’clock, but her attitude suggested they’d been carousing for hours. “Now, where did I leave my confounded cane?”
Royal fetched it from under her chair, and then gave her a hand to rise.
“How nice to have a brawny fellow around the house,” she said. “If I were twenty years younger, I wouldn’t mind looking underyourkilt, my lad. Poor Hector is rather long in the tooth for that sort of thing.”
“And if you were twenty years younger, I might let you,” he replied with a grin.
“Ugh. You’re both going to make me ill,” Ainsley said.
“Fah, my dear,” her aunt said. “I knowexactlywhat you’re thinking about this handsome young buck. Not that you can do anything about it in your condition.”
“Too bad, that,” Royal said with an exaggerated sigh.
Ainsley stared at them with patent disbelief.
Her aunt laughed. “We’re just teasing, child. Now, do you want me to ring for Betty? She can help you to bed.”
“What’s the point?” Ainsley said in a grumpy tone. “It’s not like I’ll be able to sleep.”
“I’ll keep her company, my lady,” Royal said. “When she’s ready to go up, I’ll ring for the maid.”
The old woman looked dubious. “Well, I suppose I can leave the two of you alone. Despite our jesting, you can hardly get up to mischief in her current state.”
I’d be willing to give it a try, though.
Royal squashed the unseemly thought. “She’ll be as safe with me as if I were a vestal virgin.”
“For God’s sake,” Ainsley said. “Do you really suppose . . . oh, never mind. It doesn’t even bear thinking about. Please go to bed, Aunt Margaret. I’ll be up shortly.”
“See that you are, my dear. You need your rest.”
After her ladyship thumped out, Royal joined Ainsley on the chaise. She wriggled over to make more room for him.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to ring for Betty?” he asked. “You’re looking rather worn out.”
“You try carrying all this extra weight and see how you feel.”
“Gruesome, I imagine.”
“Especially when the little blighter makes a habit out of drumming its heels on various parts of my insides.” She grimaced. “Quite vigorously, I might add.”
