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Royal had never felt more helpless in his life, and he hated himself for what he’d done.
He’d torn a family asunder and ripped out his own heart at the same time. Like Ainsley, he’d racked his brain for a better solution and, like her, had come back to this one every time. For both mother and daughter,thiswas the best way to keep them safe. That’s what his head told him, although his heart disagreed.
Tira had finally fallen into a deep slumber a half hour ago. Royal prayed it would hold until they got her inside and settled under their housekeeper’s competent care. Taffy had helped to raise all the Kendrick brothers and had soothed many a fractious baby over the years. Thank God because the responsibility was monumental, and would require the cooperation of his entire family.
When the door to the carriage opened, Royal held up a warning hand. The groom nodded and let down the steps as quietly as he could. Royal got out and then turned to take the baby from Mrs. Monroe.
She lifted Tira from the basket and carefully handed her over. The baby’s cheeks were flushed and her eyelashes still damp from the last bout of tears, but she appeared deeply asleep—probably from exhaustion, poor mite. Royal felt like he’d walked from Cairndow, and no doubt Mrs. Monroe was even more pulled about.
“I’ll take her if you wish, sir,” she whispered.
He shook his head. “No, I’m fine. I’m going to send you off with our housekeeper to have some dinner and get settled. You must be tired.”
A sturdy, comfortable sort of woman in her late thirties, Mrs. Monroe gave him a cheerful smile. “Och, no. I’ve raised three bairns of my own, so I’m well used to fussy babies.”
That was obviously true, since she’d handled Tira in a gentle, competent manner. Mrs. Monroe was the wife of a tenant farmer and had served as wet nurse to other aristocratic ladies. Lady Margaret was no doubt paying her a generous fee, but it was well worth it to secure the services of a good woman willing to be away from her own family for at least three months.
Just as important, Mrs. Monroe could be trusted to keep Ainsley’s secret.
He led her toward the door of the main tower house. “Well, I’ve got her now, and she seems inclined to sleep. So I suggest you take the chance to have some dinner. I’ll bring her up after you’re settled in the nursery.”
“Aye, Mr. Kendrick.”
The door opened before they reached it and Andrew, the youngest footman, hurried out. He took one look at the bundle in Royal’s arms and all but tripped over his feet.
“Um, is that a baby, Mr. Royal?” His gaze darted back and forth between Tira and Mrs. Monroe.
“Obviously, Andrew. Now, see to the bags,” Royal said. “Taffy will explain the new arrangements to the staff in a bit.”
“Aye, sir,” Andrew said, clearly expiring with curiosity.
Royal mentally sighed, bracing himself for the scene he must now enact for the sake of the servants.
“You’ve got the story straight, Mrs. Monroe?” he murmured, pausing at the stone porch that sheltered the front door.
She nodded. “Never fear, sir. I’ll be protectin’ the babe’s secret, ye can be sure.”
“You have my thanks.”
Taffy appeared in the doorway, her wrinkled features softening in a kind smile. She was approaching seventy, but her gaunt, neatly garbed figure was as upright and strong as ever.
“Mr. Royal, it’s good to see ye,” she said. “All the arrangements have been made. At least as well as I was able to with so little detail,” she pointedly added.
His letter to Victoria had of necessity been sparse on information. He’d simply asked for the carriage to be sent to Cairndow and instructed the Kinglas nursery to be prepared to receive a newborn baby.
“Thank you. Is Lady Arnprior about?”
“I’ve sent a footman to fetch the laird and my lady.” She peered at the bundle in Royal’s arms. “Aye, that’s a wee bairn. I was a mite doubtful of her ladyship’s instructions, but I see she had the right of it.”
Might as well get on with it.“This is my daughter. Her mother is not a reliable person, so the bairn will stay with us at Kinglas.”
He winced at the crash behind him. Andrew had dropped Mrs. Monroe’s trunk.
The housekeeper raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Is that so? Now, that’s a sad situation, if I ever heard one.”
Royal gave her an apologetic smile. Taffy had always been able to tell when he was lying. But she was loyal to the family and the clan, and would stick to whatever tale he chose to tell.
Her glance flicked to Mrs. Monroe, who was quietly waiting.
