In the Heart of the Highlander (6 page)

Oh, he did this well, the moral outrage. The devoted concern. Mary’s hand got grabbed again. It was getting more attention in one day than it had in twenty-nine years.

“Surely you must be mistaken, Dr. Bauer. He seems so . . . nice.”

“
Gott in Himmel!
Nice! The man is a menace. I forbid you to see him again. He will distress your delicate heart and injure your health, perhaps irreparably.”

“My goodness. You seem so passionate about this, Dr. Bauer.”

“I am passionate! There is nothing that means more to me than the care of my patients. I will do everything in my power, Miss Arden—everything—to make you well again.”

Mary bit her lip to prevent her from laughing at his outburst. She had a fair idea what “everything” entailed.

“Th-thank you, Dr. Bauer. I will try to be more careful in the future. If I see Lord Raeburn again, I shall try to cut him.”

“There is no try, Miss Arden, there is only do. If he makes himself a nuisance, come to me. I shall have him ejected from the hotel. Why Prescott lets him stay here I do not understand.”

“The baron lives nearby, isn’t that right? He says he’s making improvements to his house and everything is at sixes and sevens.”

“Bah! Let him sleep in his stables and keep him away from innocent girls such as yourself.”

“I-I am not precisely a girl, Dr. Bauer,” Mary said, fishing to see how he’d compliment her.

“You are young, fresh, and lovely. A vision. Do not throw yourself away on that Scottish clod.”

Nor will I throw myself away on an Austrian clod, Mary vowed.

If Lord Raeburn—Alec—had not come to her, would she have seen through Bauer’s gallantry if she had met him in the ordinary course of events? Perhaps not. His smoothness might have been a welcome diversion and not set off any alarms at all.

What if she’d brought Aunt Mim up here when the hotel opened? Mary had been feeling somewhat mournful over her spinster state over the last year, especially after seeing Charles Cooper and Louisa Stratton fall in love. Was she ripe for the picking? Susceptible to flattery and attention? Alec Raeburn made her feel dizzy and he was not even trying.

Maybe she was being just as silly over Alec Raeburn as Edith Raeburn had been over Josef Bauer.

No. Edith had been barely twenty-one when she met her fate. Mary liked to think her advanced years had given her some sense, and her sense was telling her that she could trust Alec. But she was not about to embark on an affair with him. That would be unprofessional, and Mary Evensong was nothing if not professional.

Damn it.

Chapter

7

A
lec was less than impressed with the Forsyth Palace Hotel. Yes, the building was magnificent, the food fresh, delivered daily, and well-prepared, the beds angel-soft. The spa staff, however, left a great deal to be desired, and it was not only Josef Bauer who concerned him.

It had not taken much to bribe the beefy bath attendant. Good Lord, he could be anyone come to murder Mary Arden. His reputation should have given the masseuse pause, but his pound notes overcame her scruples. Alec should not be where he was right now, in a windowless room lit only by a fragrant candle, the door shut and locked. He should not be anywhere near Mary, who lay facedown, naked, and helpless on a treatment table. True, most of her was wrapped in a warmed linen sheet, her back still pink from its scalding bath. Her auburn hair was swept up, damp ringlets clinging to her slender neck, and it was all Alec could do not to bend over and bite her like a vampire.

She’d sent him a message this afternoon that Bauer had “forbidden” her to see him, so their tea date was canceled. It was unnecessary—she was fairly sure she could arrange a rendezvous with the doctor tomorrow night without provoking his jealousy over Alec.

Alec was sure she could, too. What man could resist her blushes and sighs, her wide hazel eyes, her plush little figure? While she was not a conventional beauty like Edith—nothing like Edith—he was drawn in despite his good intentions. For heaven’s sake, she wasn’t even really an actress, just a grocery clerk! A shop girl.

And not really a girl either, he reminded himself. She must be close to thirty. But maybe it was time for him to leave flighty young things behind. He was getting long in the tooth for meaningless dalliance. What he needed was a mature mistress, someone he could talk to. Better yet, someone he could be quiet with.

Mary Arden was a respectable middle-class woman. Alec doubted she’d jump at the offer to become his mistress when this was all over, no matter how much money and comfort he might offer her. Her tongue was a trifle too sharp for the job anyway.

So this might be the only time he ever had to see her in such a pose. Even in the dimness, he noted her shoulders were kissed by a scattering of freckles, and that her ankle was well-turned.

Alec had meant to speak to her about tomorrow, but he didn’t want to frighten her. She was expecting a rubdown with smelly goo, not a conversation. The longer he stood near the door, the harder it was to gather up his wits. Perhaps he’d been unwise to sneak into the spa—he could have sent her a note back, or visited Mrs. Evensong’s rooms after dinner.

But some maggot in his head kept muttering about her treatment at two o’clock, and the maggot was insistent. What if Bauer changed his plans and decided to deal with her himself? Mary would be at the man’s mercy. Alec was only protecting her from assault from that smarmy foreign bastard.

Mary breathed deeply, and he snapped to.

“Are you going to begin?” she asked, her words muffled by the circular pillow she lay on. “I confess I’ve never felt so relaxed. I can’t imagine what I’ll feel like after the massage.”

Alec felt his tongue thicken. This is when he should speak in his gentlest voice before she started to scream, explain that he’d come to keep her safe today and talk to her about tomorrow. He found he couldn’t utter a word.

He took a step, then another. A bottle of ointment sat on a tray table. Alec uncapped it and poured some on his palm, then rubbed his hands together to warm the fluid. It smelled strongly of roses and he fought back a sneeze.

What the hell was he thinking?

The truth was, he was not thinking at all.

He placed his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs circling the base of her neck. He heard a little cracking sound, and wondered if his touch was too rough. All his life he’d fought against his size, feeling like a brute even when his intentions were innocent. He was not exactly innocent now, however.

Mary didn’t seem to mind—in fact she stretched like a kitten which had been rubbed behind its ears. His fingers pressed into her shoulders, kneading inexpertly. Sometimes his paramours had touched him this way to ease his tension, and he tried to remember their technique.

Alec realized he’d always been on the receiving end, and while he prided himself on giving pleasure to women, his pleasure was always paramount. That’s what he’d paid the girls for, after all. He’d been a selfish bastard, living an empty life. Marriage was supposed to change that, but it hadn’t.

Mary groaned. He drew his hands back at once.

“No, no. I meant that groan in the best possible way. Your hands are magic,” she mumbled into the pillow. “I have been very tense. The stress of my job—I mean my life, you know. It’s a job to cater to my grumpy aunt, and my brother is a constant trial. My health has suffered.”

Good save on her part. She wasn’t supposed to have a job, just be an aimless heiress with a touch of hypochondria. Probably Bauer expected his staff to report everything they learned about the patients. Alec said nothing, just resumed the rubbing, concentrating on where her wings would be if she were an angel. She gave a twitch and happy sigh, but blessedly ceased talking. She expected a female attendant, and Alec did not want to attempt to raise his voice several octaves and make the situation even more fraudulent than it was.

He was not going to lift the sheet and slip his big paws beneath it. He was not. This would be the speediest massage on record, because he knew now he could not possibly explain at this point why he had come into this room and was touching her so intimately when he’d merely meant to talk to her in private.

She would eviscerate him if she discovered who he was, and rightly so. Alec was as bad as Bauer, taking advantage of an unsuspecting woman. He would give Mary’s exposed feet a few tweaks and leave the way he came.

Flee.

What an ass he was. His brain was scrambled. If anyone was tense, it was he—the last year had been hell and had obviously unhinged him.

After Saturday night he would go back to Raeburn Court and try to pick up the pieces of his life. Bauer would be disgraced, and that would have to be enough. Alec would have his brothers for company—if Nick could be unearthed from whatever international bordello he resided in—and hope that one of them married and had an heir to the barony. He’d be an indulgent uncle and try to find a hobby. Massaging women was definitely off-limits.

Alec squeezed his eyes shut as his hands passed over the sheet. Knowing she was nude beneath it dried his mouth. How silly he was—he’d spent quality time with a great many nude women before. But imagining what Mary Arden looked like unwrapped made his inconvenient manhood swell.

Feet. He’d concentrate on her feet. Alec had no foot fetish that he was aware of; he’d always been a breast man. Large or small, it didn’t matter—breasts were marvelously soft and responsive. He was fond of the way a woman’s waist curved into her hip as well. A rounded bottom was a lovely thing, too. Mary’s looked tempting beneath the sheet.

Ah, hell. Think of her feet.

Her soles were clean, and he poured a bit more oil on his hands and held one foot between them. It was a small foot, a dainty foot for a small woman. But even though Mary was not tall, she exuded command and control.

Yes, she would kill him, probably brandishing a parasol. He would take his beating, for God knows he deserved one. He pressed her foot between his palms, smoothing over her heel, tugging at her toes. Massaging her back and shoulders had been much easier—there were a lot of damn bones in one’s foot and they all seemed to be crunching a bit under his ministrations. Alec hoped she wouldn’t be crippled afterward.

He dropped her foot to the table abruptly and took a step backward, then another, bumping into a chair.

The room was dark and dead silent. Mary wasn’t asleep, was she? No such luck.

“Aren’t you going to do the other foot? That felt lovely.”

No, he was not going to do the other foot. He was about to use his own to race out of the room.

But then the doorknob rattled with considerable violence.

“Unlock this door at once!”

It was the bad doctor. Alec’s luck had definitely run out. Bauer sounded enraged, his Viennese accent more pronounced than usual.

Mary stirred from the table.

“Don’t move,” Alec whispered.

Her head whipped around, her face pink with wrinkles from the pillow. “What? What’s happening?” Damn, she rolled to the side and sat up awkwardly, clutching the sheet to her bosom. Her mouth opened when she spotted him edged flat against the wall, but she had the good sense not to scream.

“I can explain,” Alec said, pushing his hair back with oily fingers.

“I seriously doubt it.” She glanced around the candlelit room. “No windows. Only one door. I’d say you’re trapped.”

Bauer banged outside, hollering for someone to bring him keys.

“I told you not to follow me around, didn’t I? And now look at the pickle you’ve gotten us into. Get under the treatment table,” she snapped.

“Are you mad? I’ll never fit under there!”

“It’s your only hope. Unless you want to spoil everything.”

Alec was fresh out of ideas himself. He dropped down and crawled under the padded table, finding himself covered by a draped sheet. Which meant—

He peeked from under the hem of it just in time to see Mary blow out the candle. A naked Mary, lit all too briefly. But lit long enough.

Mother of God
. She was lovely.

She went to the door, struggling with the bolt, then opened it a crack. Alec dropped the sheet in the interest of sanity and self-preservation.

“Oh, Dr. Bauer. I’m so sorry. I must have fallen asleep. The scented bath was simply divine.”

“Where is he?” Bauer sounded absolutely enraged.

“Where is who?” Mary asked, yawning. “Oh, no. You can’t come in. I haven’t a stitch on.”

“I am a doctor, Miss Arden—I have seen many naked women before,” Bauer sputtered.

“But not me, sir. It wouldn’t be proper without your nurse present, would it? I was just a little surprised when you dismissed her this morning.”

The cur. Alec made himself stay still, but it was a near thing not to leap from under the table and grab Bauer’s throat.

“Never mind that. Where is Raeburn?”

“L-Lord Raeburn? Why would you think that horrible man is here?”

Horrible man? Alec supposed she had a point.

“He bribed Hedwig—your masseuse—to take her place. Naturally, she refused the money and came straight to me.”

So Hedwig was a thief
and
a liar. And rather slow, when it came right down to it. Alec had had plenty of time to compromise Mary Arden.

“How ridiculous! There is no one here with me, Dr. Bauer. I waited and waited, and then I guess I fell asleep. If you hadn’t made all that racket, I’d still be asleep. For the first time in months, I was finally relaxed, and now—now you tell me there is a madman after me and bribing people to have his wicked way with me!” She burst into noisy tears.

“Miss Arden, Miss Arden, calm yourself.”

“Don’t try to touch me!” Mary shrieked. “Someone get me my clothes. What kind of a health spa are you running here, Dr. Bauer? I shall need some prayer and quiet reflection before I go back to my room. Oh, my nerves!” She slammed the door.

“Are we still on for dinner, Miss Arden?” the doctor asked through the shut door.

“Yes. No. I cannot think. I am much too overset. Imagine if that dastard Raeburn had found me, naked and alone in this little room. Vulnerable. No way out. I might have been—oh! It’s too ghastly to contemplate.” Mary whacked the table hard and a metal bar dug into Alec’s head. “I am too embarrassed to be seen by anyone. I cannot face you just yet.” Alec heard a bottle smash, and the scent of roses cloaked the room. Damn it, he was going to sneeze—

“Um. Miss Arden. There is a little door hidden behind the instruments cabinet. It leads to the servants’ ramp. You may leave with utter privacy. I shall communicate with the staff to vacate the area for—shall we say ten minutes after we get your clothing to you? Does that give you enough time to get to your room?”

Something else hit the wall and rolled by the table. The candle, Alec thought.

“Oh, you are too kind, Dr. Bauer! I am sorry I am breaking things. My temper, you know. Most of the t-time I am m-meek and m-mild, but when I am cr-crossed, Oliver says I am a regular termagant. Imagine that rotter Raeburn thinking to take advantage of me! If he were here, I might kill him with my bare hands! Choke the life out of him! Watch his black eyes pop right out of his head!”

Alec shut them, not that he could see anything anyway. He believed her.

“I shall see that no further harm comes to you, Miss Arden. You may rely upon me.”

“Thank you, Dr. Bauer. Josef. May I call you Josef? And please fetch my clothing. Just leave them outside the door.”

“Yes, my dear. Yes to the clothes, yes to the Josef. I trust I may call you Mary.”

“Of course. I think we shall be great friends, once I calm down.”

“I have ways to calm you, Mary. Leave it to me. Hedwig! Miss Arden’s clothes, if you please.”