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She wrinkled her nose. “Thank you, but I’d rather walk on top of it. Then I won’t have to see all the nasty things lying at the bottom.”
He started to laugh but ended up biting off a curse when a muscle in his thigh picked that moment to spasm painfully.
“Your legisbothering you,” she said with a concerned frown. “We should go back to the ballroom. I’m sure this corridor is too cold for you.”
Royal forced a smile past his gritted teeth. “Are you cold? Because you’re the one who should be shivering in that silly gown.”
She was wearing an absolute frippery of a dress, with tiny cap sleeves ready to slip from her shoulders with the slightest encouragement. Her gauzy skirts were the height of fashion, but it was an insane outfit for the dead of winter.
“I never get cold. You, however, are still recovering your health and should not be loitering in drafty hallways. I don’t know why I let you talk me into coming out here in the first place.”
When she started to stand, Royal wrapped a hand around her wrist and gently pulled her back down. “As I recall, you were the one who talkedmeinto leaving the ballroom.”
“Nonsense. And there’s no call to manhandle me, sir,” she said, sounding a trifle breathless.
“You call that manhandling?” he said, surprised.
“I do. Clearly, you do not know your own strength.”
Actually, he did, though most days he felt like a pale reflection of his former self. If he turned sideways he feared he might even disappear.
“Then I sincerely beg your apology,” he said.
“Fiddlesticks. You’re not sorry at all.”
“When you grow up with six brothers, you tend to skip over the social niceties and the apologies.”
“Especially when you’re Highlanders, I imagine. My maternal grandmother was born in Inveraray, and she was forever talking about the wild men of her clan.”
Royal perked up. “No wonder I’m smitten with you. You’re part Scot, and from my part of the country, too.”
She looked slightly taken aback by his honesty but flashed a mocking smile. “I’m only one-quarter Scot, and I try to conceal the fact. Granny Baynes was wonderful, though. She told the most outrageously tall tales.”
“Scots are prone to dramatic license, especially when it comes to family history. But my brothers and I certainly had our share of adventures growing up.”
She shifted to face him more directly, brushing her delightfully plump thigh against his good leg. His leg, and other parts of him, approved.
“Did you often get into trouble, Mr. Kendrick?”
“On a regular basis. I remember an incident involving the local parish priest and the communion wine that probably earned us a decade in purgatory.” He let out a rueful laugh. “I don’t know how my mother put up with us. We were a great handful, to say the least.”
“It sounds like you had tremendous fun,” she said in a wistful tone.
“We did.”
Until their parents died, and everything went catastrophically wrong. He shifted on the hard bench, wincing at the ugly memories.
Ainsley cast him a worried glance. “Are you sure you’re not catching a chill?”
Bloody hell.Next, she’d be asking if he needed a flannel waistcoat and a hot toddy.
“Lass, I grew up in a drafty old castle in the Highlands. Trust me when I say you don’t know the meaning of cold.”
Her nose twitched again, a clear sign of irritation. “There’s no need for you to get snappish.”
“And there’s no need for you to pity me.”
They glowered at each other for a few moments before she jabbed a finger at his chest.
