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She switched her glare to Royal. “By myself.”
He threw a startled look at the footman, who grimaced in apology. “We sent a lad around with a note, sir. He must have missed you.”
“Apparently,” Royal said. “Did anyone think to bring Lady Ainsley refreshments?”
“Lady Ainsley has not had so much as a cup of tea,” she butted in. “And I’m utterly starving.”
She wasn’t, really. But she had to kick up a fuss about something or she’d fall apart. The last five days had been a mad dash north all while praying that Cringlewood or her father wasn’t following. She had arrived in Glasgow only this morning, exhausted, anxious, and desperate to see Tira.
But she could only see her daughter if Royal agreed. Either that or if she did something incredibly stupid, like announce to the world that she was Tira’s mother. Since that was not an option, she had to gain Royal’s support for her desperate plan.
“We can’t have you fainting from hunger,” Royal said, sounding faintly amused. “Will, bring tea into the study, and make sure Cook includes some scones and plum cake, if she’s got any.”
“Aye, sir. She made a fresh cake just this afternoon,” William said, scuttling backward toward the service door.
Royal took her elbow and steered her toward the back of the house. “I apologize. Angus was obviously being difficult. If I’d known you were here, I would have come home straightaway.”
“You’d think I was going to give Tira the plague from the way he acted. I was all but ready to storm the nursery.”
His hand briefly tightened. “Hush, my lady. Wait till we have a little privacy.”
She took hold of herself, searching for a measure of control. His unruffled demeanor was having an alarming effect on her nerves. She wasn’t used to Royal maintaining the cooler head. He seemed different, more mature and reserved than she remembered.
It made him even more attractive, and he was alreadyfatallyattractive.
Then again, his control might signal that his feelings for her had faded away. She sensed he wasn’t happy to see her, something so distressing it sent her mind into a tizzy. Ainsley had counted on Royal still wanting her, still loving her. In fact, it had never crossed her mind that he wouldn’t.
And aren’t you the arrogant one, my girl?
Perhaps he’d even concluded that she was a woman of low morals, after all. If so, she could hardly blame him. Whatever the extenuating circumstances—most of which he didn’t know—she’d been with another man and then had not even the brains to marry him.
He gently pulled her to a halt outside the study door. Ducking a bit, he gave her a swift perusal.
“Stop it,” he said.
“Stop what?”
“Whatever is going on inside your pretty head. I can practically hear the bloody wheels spinning away.”
She blinked. “I, uh—”
He tipped her chin up even as he cast a glance down the hall. Then he pressed a swift kiss to her lips. It was firm, decisive, and scattered every thought in her head. She was forced to curl a hand into his coat to keep from staggering.
“Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out,” he said when he pulled back. His voice held a deliciously rough note that made her shiver. “You’ve worked yourself into a stew, and we’ve barely exchanged two words.”
“I’m just t . . . tired,” she stammered. “And how dare you kiss me like that, here in the hall,” she belatedly added, even though she felt weak with relief. Apparently, he still cared for her after all.
He flashed his rogue’s grin. “Would it be all right if I kissed you in the study?”
Ainsley had to clear her throat before she could answer. “Certainly not. That would be most inappropriate.”
Dignity and self-assurance felt like a distant memory, thanks to the disaster her life had become.
“I suppose you’re right,” Royal said as he ushered her through the door. “Angus, for one, would be horrified to see us acting with such reckless abandon.”
She was tempted to stick her tongue out as she swept past him.
He led her to a pair of needlepointed wing chairs in front of the fireplace. Even though it was August, a small fire burned in the grate. It had been an unusually cool summer, especially up north. Glasgow felt damp and dreary, so she sank down gratefully and let the warmth wash over her.
