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Royal frowned, looking wary again. “Ainsley, I—” He broke off at the tap on the door. “Enter.”
William carefully balanced a large tray loaded with a teapot, cups, and several small plates of cakes and scones. Irrationally annoyed by such a display of bounty after having been left to stew for an hour by herself, Ainsley couldn’t help scowling at him.
When the footman caught her look, his eyes widened with alarm. The tray wobbled, and a plate of scones slid toward the edge.
Royal jumped up and steadied the tray in time. “Put it on the desk, lad. I’ll serve her ladyship.”
“Aye, sir,” William said with evident relief. He lowered the tray too hard, causing the cups to rattle, and beat a hasty retreat.
“Still terrifying the servants, I see,” Royal said.
“Good. I thought I might be losing my touch.”
When he lifted an incredulous eyebrow, she wrinkled her nose. “Well, he did stick me in that room and leave me there. That wasn’t very nice.”
“I expect Angus told him to do it.”
“Ridiculous,” she said, exasperated. “Your grandfather treats me like I’m some sort of horrible interloper. A villain.”
He handed her a cup of tea, prepared with lots of sugar and a bit of milk, just as she preferred. Then he propped a shoulder against a corner of the mantel, looking down at her with thoughtful regard. “The truth is, Angus is afraid of you.”
She frowned. “Why? He’s never been nervous around me before. Quite the opposite.”
On more than one occasion, she and the old man had gotten into screaming matches that all but rattled the timbers at Kinglas.
“He’s afraid you’re going to try to take Tira away from us,” Royal said.
Ainsley stared at him in shock.
“I confess I’m concerned too,” he said with an attempt at a casual shrug. “I hear not a word from you for months, then you suddenly appear on my doorstep.” His malachite gaze all but drilled into her. “It wouldn’t be an unreasonable assumption to worry that you’re here to take her away from us.”
“I would never do that,” she snapped, anger getting the better of her. “But may I remind you that no one has more right to her than I do.”
“Except her father.”
She flinched, spilling tea into the saucer.
“Dammit.” Royal grimaced. “I’m sorry. That was unforgiveable of me.”
“Yes, it was.” She clamped her lips shut, too upset to say more.
When he rubbed the corner of his eye, guilt flashed through her. His eyelid must be twitching, something that only happened when he was particularly upset or in pain. She was making a complete hash of things but couldn’t seem to control her emotions.
“It’s just that it would kill us to lose Tira,” he said. “She’s my daughter now, lass. Do you understand?”
Ainsley fought for her composure. “Of course I do. And I know this is the best place for Tira, truly. I’m more grateful to you than I can ever say.”
When he simply studied her in silence, she took a sip of tea to mask her sense of shame. That he could think her so cruel . . . then again, when had she done anything but bring trouble into his life? She supposed she couldn’t blame him for his continued mistrust.
Ainsley rested her cup on her knee. “I mean it, Royal. I would never take her away from you.”
He breathed out a quiet sigh of relief. “Thank you for that reassurance, especially for my grandfather’s sake. He and the dogs would probably throw themselves from the highest tower at Kinglas if they lost her.”
Oh, blast.Royal was trying to make a joke, for her sake, which made her feel like an idiot for blundering in so clumsily, trampling over everyone’s feelings. One of these days, she would learn to think of others before she thought of herself.
“You do realize that’s rather an incentive,” she said, trying for the same light tone. “Royal, I know I’m a rather selfish person, but I’m not a monster.”
“Sweetheart, of course I don’t think you’re a monster,” he protested.
