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“But you do think I’m selfish, and you’re not wrong. Iamselfish, but not when it comes to Tira.”
He came down on one knee before her. Taking her teacup, he placed it on the round table between the chairs.
“I wasn’t finished with that,” she said weakly as he took her hands. He started to strip the kid gloves from her fingers.
When he finally wriggled one off, he frowned. “Why is your hand so bloody cold?”
He stripped the other one off and began gently rubbing her hands. “Dammit, Ainsley, one of these days you’ve got to start taking better care of yourself.”
She didn’t know whether to laugh or burst into tears. He’d always scolded her when he worried. Only when she thought she’d never see him again had she realized how much she’d miss it.
“I’ve spent the last five days in a damp coach and even damper inns,” she said. “It’s a miracle I’m not dead or covered in mold.”
“You didn’t travel alone, did you?”
“No, I brought my maid with me.”
He looked aghast. “That’s it? Not even a footman?”
“I was traveling incognito, Royal. Besides, if you saw my maid, you wouldn’t worry. She’s a veritable Amazon and even meaner than your grandfather.”
That was why she’d hired the woman after returning to London. While a bit rough about the edges, Forde was strong, competent, and loyal to the bone. Ainsley had fired her last maid when she found her going through her correspondence. The girl had refused to say who’d put her up to it, but it had to be Cringlewood.
“Is she here with you today?” he asked.
“Of course not.” She trusted Forde, but not with this. Not yet, anyway. She didn’t trust anybody when it came to Tira, except the Kendricks.
Royal adopted a stern expression. “You know it’s not appropriate for you to be calling at a gentleman’s residence by yourself.”
“Good God, of all people to be lecturing me. When did you turn into such an old biddy?”
“You gave me the responsibility for saving your reputation, or have you forgotten that salient point?”
She rolled her eyes. “Nobody knows I’m here. And please get up off the floor. You look ridiculous, and you’ll hurt your leg.”
“My leg is fine.”
“Splendid, but I’m worried you’re about to start spouting lines fromRomeo and Juliet. OrHamlet, which would be even worse.”
He snorted. “Please.Macbethor nothing, in this household.”
“With me playing all three witches, no doubt.”
“You and Angus could trade off.” He briefly pressed her hands and rose to his feet with an easy, masculine grace. He really seemed healthier than she’d ever seen him.
And he was so very, very handsome.
He went to the tea service and filled a plate, stacking it high with scones and cake before bringing it back to her.
“Where are you staying? And if it’s at a coaching inn or hotel, I will murder you on the spot,” he said a moment later as he poured himself a cup of tea.
Because she’d just taken a huge bite of the most delicious plum cake she’d ever tasted, she couldn’t stick out her tongue at him.
“I’m staying at Breadie Manor, for the moment,” she managed after she swallowed.
“Really? I didn’t know Alec and Edie were in town,” he said, settling into the other chair.
Alec Gilbride, heir to the Earl of Riddick, normally resided at his grandfather’s castle north of Glasgow. But the family also owned Breadie Manor, a lovely mansion on the outskirts of the city. She’d stayed there last Christmas while visiting with Alec and his wife, Edie, who was a chum from Ainsley’s school days.
