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Royal took her hand. “I do. You should marry me and let me be father to your babe.”
As she stared into his earnest gaze, Ainsley could feel the need building inside her to finally say yes. It was almost as powerful as the wave of pain currently gathering at the base of her spine. But saying yes to Royal would mean giving up everything she’d ever known for an uncertain future—and still with no guarantee her baby would be safe from its father. The mistakes of her life would come back to haunt Royal as well as herself, possibly even destroying them. He, of all people, did not deserve such a fate.
“I wish I could marry you, Royal,” she said, blinking hard. “Truly, I do. But there are too many complications.”
Leonard could very well deduce the reasons behind their marriage and raise a terrific scandal—perhaps even take legal action against her or Royal. Ainsley’s entire family would reject her, with potentially disastrous results.
Her former betrothed and her father could lay utter waste to her life. And then what would happen to her poor baby?
“Lass, I’m very good at complicated,” Royal said. “I can handle it.”
She shook her head. “I wish I was as brave as you, but I’m not. I need to find a haven for my baby, and then return to London and get on with whatever sort of life I can rebuild from this mess. Certainly a life that keeps my secrets buried. That would be the best thing for all of us.”
He grimaced. “It’s a hell of a thing to give up a child, Ainsley. I don’t know if you would ever get over it.”
At his words, a wave of pain swept through her, more terrible than anything her body could fashion. It was like her heart was being ripped from her chest.
“I know, but it must be done,” she said. “As long as Cringlewood doesn’t know I birthed his child, the baby will be safe.” That had to be theonlything that mattered.
When he looked ready to argue, she clutched his hand. “Please, Royal. Please do this for me.”
She saw his warring emotions in the green fire of his gaze.
Eventually, he gave a tight nod. “All right, lass. Whatever you need.”
“Thank you. I’m so—” She broke off, startled by a notion that darted into her head.
Good Lord.Could it really be that simple?
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
How could she ask such a thing? It was so clear, and yet so monumental. “Oh, God,” she gasped as the pain slammed through her. It was epically worse than anything she’d felt up to this point.
And suddenly she wanted to push more than she wanted to breathe.
She dug her fingers into his arm. “You need to get Mrs. Peters. The baby is coming.”
“Well, it’s about time.” With an easy sweep, he lifted her into his arms and started for her bedroom.
Ainsley wanted to fuss about his leg but she was too busy trying not to shriek at the top of her lungs.
Just as they reached her door, Betty appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Lord, sir, is everything all right?” the maid cried.
“Lady Ainsley is ready to have her baby,” Royal said in a calm voice. “Please fetch Mrs. Peters and your mother.”
“Yes, sir.” In a flurry of skirts, Betty pelted back downstairs.
Royal shouldered open the bedroom door and carried Ainsley to the bed, gently depositing her on the coverlet. She flopped back, panting, as the debilitating pain gradually receded.
“That was awful,” she managed, breathing heavily.
He stroked back the damp tangle of hair on her forehead. The gesture was so tender that Ainsley almost burst into tears.
Stop it. You never cry.
“Everything will be over very soon,” he said.
