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She managed a smile. “Nothing.”
At the end of the hall, they paused by a window overlooking the gardens. A light rain obscured the dark landscape in a ghostly mist. It was eerily quiet, with only the sounds of the occasional tap of the rain on the windowpanes or the creaking of the old house around them.
Ainsley leaned a hand against the wall, blowing out a breath as a cramp pummeled her lower back. Like all the others, though, this contraction quickly faded, allowing her to straighten up with a sigh.
“All right, love?” Royal murmured.
In the light thrown by the branch of candles on the end table, she saw weariness mark his handsome features. Shadows played under his high cheekbones, and worry or pain, or both, carved lines around his mouth.
“You needn’t do this if your leg is bothering you too much,” she said. “I’m fine.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re in labor. That is far from fine.”
“It’s a perfectly natural process, as both the doctor and midwife have made clear. With tedious frequency, I might add.”
Both Dr. MacTavish and Mrs. Peters were typical no-nonsense Scots. They’d refused to let her indulge in any fears about the birthing process or engage in lengthy discussion about it. At the time, she’d been grateful for their practical approach. Now, however, she had to admit to being rather terrified, and wished she knew more about what exactly was going to happen next.
“Of course it is,” he said in a soothing tone. “There’s absolutely nothing to worry about.”
“You needn’t humor me. I’m not a moron, Royal Kendrick. I know perfectly well the sorts of complications that can arise during birth.”
Like dying.
A starkly grim expression contorted his features for a moment. Then he mustered a smile. “I wouldn’t dream of calling you a moron. You’d stab me.”
She stared at him for a moment, trying to read his mood. Then she remembered that his mother had died in childbirth.
“I’m the moron,” she sighed. “Royal, I’m so sorry. This must be a very unpleasant experience for you, given what happened to your poor mother.”
He tucked her hand in his arm and got her walking again. “Nonsense. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you right now.”
She suspected it was the simple truth, and it was miraculous considering what he’d had to put up with since arriving on their doorstep. He’d barely blinked at any of it, though, not even when her water broke in the middle of his marriage proposal. That had possibly been the most mortifying experience in her life, although there’d been quite a string of them lately.
When she’d started to blither out an apology, aghast at the gush of liquid between her legs, Royal had remained calm and hauled himself to his feet.
“Trust me,” he’d said as he grabbed a lap blanket from Aunt Margaret’s chair. “I’ve been knee deep in blood and guts more than once. This is nothing.”
He’d then wrapped the blanket around her, swept her up into his arms, and carried her off to her bedroom. Though Ainsley had felt the hitch in his step, he’d never faltered. By any measure, Royal Kendrick was a strong, impressive man. He had to be, since lugging her off without dropping her was a herculean feat.
“Still, I’m sure you can’t like this,” Ainsley said as they slowly made their way back down the softly lit hall. “God knowsIdon’t like it.”
“I’ve never been part of a groaning party before,” he mused. “It’s an experience.”
The term was vaguely familiar. “What’s a groaning party?”
“Och, it’s when the local women gather to help a mother in labor. They clean and cook and assist with the birth. They take care of anything that needs taking care of—including the men, who are regarded as entirely useless in these situations.”
“You deserve honorary admission, certainly. You’ve been exceedingly useful so far.” She squeezed his arm. “I’m very grateful that you’re here, Royal. Truly. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You don’t owe me anything, Ainsley. I hate like hell that you’ve had to go through this by yourself. Your mother and friends should be here to support you.”
“I had Aunt Margaret, and now you’re here. That’s more than enough, as far as I’m concerned. I have no desire to parade my stupidity before the rest of my family and friends.”
“You werenotstupid. Simply naïve.”
“That’s one way to look at it.” She’d certainly been naïve in trusting Leonard, although that wasn’t entirely her fault. Her family had been pushing her into his arms for months.
“The fault lies with the bastard who took advantage of you,” Royal said grimly. “And with your family. It’s insane that you can’t depend on them for support.”
