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“Indeed.”
Ainsley fussed with the lace trim on the doll’s dress, trying to sort through the confusing emotions roiling through her.
“And how doyoufeel about Royal in that regard?” Victoria prompted.
“I’m not sure. Sometimes I quite desperately want him to kiss me, and . . . and do other things. But then at other times . . .”
“At other times, it frightens you,” Victoria finished.
“Yes. Whenever memories of what Cringlewood did rush back in a horribly vivid wave, the idea of anyone touching me seems impossible.” She held the wretched doll in a death grip. “It’s awful, and I can’t seem to control when it happens.”
Victoria gently pried Ainsley’s fingers off the doll. “Here, give me that poor thing before you break it.”
“What difference would it make?” she groused. “Tira hates it.”
“No, she doesn’t. Besides, it’s your first gift to her, which makes it special.”
Ainsley gave her a weak smile. “I’m being an idiot, aren’t I?”
“You are not,” Victoria said firmly. “It’s quite a natural reaction, as I know from my own experience. And your trauma was far greater than mine. Royal is worried about the effects of your assault, and is therefore treading carefully.”
Ainsley shook her head, disgusted with herself. “Oh, good Lord. He’s afraid to touch me because of what Cringlewood did to me. Why did I not see that?”
Because you never think about anyone but yourself.
She slammed the door on that accusatory voice, one that sounded remarkably like her father’s. That person wasn’t her anymore—not since Tira had come into her life.
“I’m sure Royal is afraid of provoking some hurtful emotions for you,” Victoria said. “He’s sensitive that way because of his own experience. After Waterloo, nightmares haunted him for months, according to Nicholas.”
“Nightmares caused by the injury? But he never says anything about that. The man’s a complete stoic.”
Her friend cast her a surprised glance. “You do know that he was left unattended on the battlefield for hours after he was wounded? People thought him already dead. It was quite a harrowing situation until Nicholas finally found him.”
Ainsley gaped at her, horrified.
Victoria winced. “Oh, I thought Royal must have told you.”
“No, but you certainly can.”
“Well. I think it would be best if you discuss it directly with him.”
“That’s not fair. He’ll never tell me, at this rate.”
“He will when he’s ready. I only raised the issue to explain his behavior. His experience has taught him that wounds to the psyche often require more time to heal than wounds to the body.”
Ainsley shook her head. “Well, there’s one thing that’s obvious.”
“What’s that?”
“My betrothed and I are quite a mess, so we’re perfectly matched. Although these days, Royal is less of a disaster than I am, which is annoying. I’m not used to being so chicken-hearted.”
“Please don’t be so hard on yourself,” Victoria said. “You reacted to a terrible assault with true strength of character. I’m in awe of how capably you managed the whole thing.”
“Up to a point, I suppose. I’ve still got the awful Cringlewood to deal with.” She poked her friend in the shoulder. “And I don’t mean to sound envious, but at least you got to kill your attacker.”
Victoria let out a strangled laugh. “Good God, you’re as bad as Angus.”
“He approved of your killing the evilSassenach, didn’t he? Maybe I should tell Angus what happened to me and see if I can persuade him to murder the vile marquess.”
