In the Heart of the Highlander (7 page)

Mary gave a vicious kick under the table with one of her adorable little feet. The sheet was snatched from the table, and in an instant she was wrapped up again.

There was a knock at the door. “Your clothes, miss. Do you want me to assist you in the dressing?”

“No thank you, Hedwig. Just leave them.”

“Yes, miss. Very good, miss. You watch out for that man, now.”

“Dr. Bauer?”

“No, miss. The black-bearded fellow. He is hard to resist.”

“Oh, I believe I can resist him with no difficulty whatsoever. I loathe beards. Thank you, Hedwig. That will be all.”

Mary waited a beat, then opened the door, grabbed her clothes, and locked them in again.

“You were magnificent,” Alec whispered from under the table, somewhat afraid to come out. The room was pitch black, but he was pretty sure Mary Arden was glaring at him.

“Make yourself useful and do up my laces.”

Alec was a bit more familiar undoing laces in the dark, but he managed to cinch Mary into her long corset, her stiff back radiating anger. There was a rustle of clothing where he heard mumblings, with perhaps a few curses included. Once her head was free of the fabric, she said, “What the hell were you thinking?”

Hadn’t he asked himself that very question?

It seemed he didn’t have to answer it. Her little fist punched his chest with each word. “I cannot believe you would be so brazen to come in here and—fondle me like some lecher. You, Lord Raeburn, are disgusting! Did you think you’d get away with it?”

Yes. Yes, he had. He’d almost made his escape. His boot heels hit the cabinet as she pounded him backward, and he shoved it out of the way. It was on wheels, and it crashed into the corner. He felt around the wall behind it, and found a door fit for Snow White’s dwarfs. Alec pulled the door open, and a spill of electric light fell into the room.

“Ladies first.”

Mary Arden looked more beautiful in anger than he’d ever seen her, even if her shirtwaist was misbuttoned. “You had better remember I
am
a lady, not one of your London tarts. I have half a mind to tell Aunt Mim—Mrs. Evensong, that is—I’m finished with this job. If she learns what you’ve done, you’re a dead man.”

“I meant no harm,” Alec said, ducking under the doorframe and not quite clearing it. That would leave a mark. “I only came in to talk, but there you were, all comfortable. I didn’t want to alarm you, and then you asked me to begin, and I—and I—”

“Oh, just shut up,” Mary said, sprinting up the ramp. Alec noted the other small doors along the wall, convenient for the staff to supply rooms without being seen. They climbed until they came to swinging double doors that were marked Third Floor, where Mary’s rooms were located. He followed her meekly to her door as she fished the key out of her reticule. Fortunately no other guests saw them as she pulled him into her bedroom. To his astonishment, she sat on a chair, removed her six-button boot, and tugged down her stocking.

“On your knees and finish the foot massage,” she snapped.

Alec didn’t have to think twice.

Chapter

8

I
t was very bad of her, she knew. No one had ever touched her feet before except a shoemaker, and her mother, she supposed, as she played “this little piggy” when Mary was an infant. Once Lord Raeburn was finished, she planned to kick him in the snout and then quit this job.

No, she couldn’t quit. Exposing Dr. Bauer was just a day away. Her pride was not as important as making sure he didn’t compromise any more innocent women.

But Mary was compromised. How much had wretched Raeburn seen? She’d been lucky she had been able to keep Bauer from barging in. A sheet was hardly a barrier to discovery, and it was the only thing at hand to conceal Lord Raeburn’s bulk. She had no choice but to fling it over the man and hope for the best.

How comical he’d looked under the table, folded into himself like a telescope. How comical he looked now, like a dazed Prince Charming on his knees without a glass slipper.

“Oh, do get up. I just wanted to see how sorry you were.”

“If you had a dozen feet, I would rub them all,” Alec said, his face dusky with embarrassment. He stumbled up onto a chair and hung his head, the perfect portrait of penitence.

“If I had a dozen feet, I would kick you to kingdom come,” Mary replied with asperity. “How could you do such a thing? I was
naked
. You, sir, are no gentleman.”

“I canna argue there. All I can say is that things got out of hand.”

Out of hand. Out of foot. Out of everywhere. His broad bare hands had touched her bare shoulders and back. Her left foot. Mary never had indulged herself with a massage before, but everything felt quite lovely when she thought Hedwig was over her, those magic hands circling her skin.

Mary tugged her collar up, though she already felt as if she were strangling. “We were fortunate I was able to hold Bauer off.”

“You were truly amazing. You may say you are not an actress, Mary, but your performance was equal to anything I’ve seen on the Strand. You know I’m a devotee of the theater—you were more convincing than any woman I’ve ever—” He cleared his throat. She knew his reputation; it was rumored he’d bedded half the actresses on the London stage. Her eyes narrowed, and he had the grace to look even more embarrassed.

“All that shouting and throwing,” he said with admiration. “It was quite a show. I’ll have to have a bath myself to get rid of the smell of attar of roses.”

Mary sniffed. The man was drenched in scent, as was she. It hadn’t been wise to fling things, but she’d been very angry.

She was
still
angry, but there was no point in wallowing further. Cool heads always prevailed. She’d gotten them out of their predicament, and had furthered her cause with Dr. Bauer. Josef. They were on a first-name basis now and he thought she was unhinged. How much easier it would be for him to think he could seduce her.

Mary hoped she hadn’t overdone it. If he thought she was truly mad, he might think she’d publicly denounce him in a fit of temper. She’d have to be especially tongue-tied this evening and apologize for her uncharacteristic fit of fury. Mary would place the blame all on Lord Raeburn.

Where it belonged.

“From here on in, you must stay away from me.
Far
away. If I see you, expect me to faint into Dr. Bauer’s arms. You are now the villain of this piece, which should work in our favor. Let us hope he doesn’t manage to get you thrown out of the hotel before tomorrow night. Bribing the masseuse,” she huffed.

“Just to talk to you,” Alec repeated. “I wasn’t sure I’d get another opportunity.”

“A fat lot of talking you did.”

“I was worried about you, you know. What if Bauer rearranged his appointments with patients and came into the room, with you all naked and alone?”

“Like you did?” Mary asked, raising her eyebrow.

The baron soldiered on. “He could have molested you and you’d never have known.”

“
Exactly
like you did.”

“’Twasn’t molestation, and well you know it, Mary. I barely touched you.”

Ha! What would his touches be like if he put some effort into them? She had been more than satisfied. Her neck hadn’t felt this limber in years.

“Let’s agree not to discuss it further. I must admit I’m annoyed—all the other massage sessions are booked up through Monday. I’ll never know what a proper treatment is like now.”

“I’ll—I’ll make it up to you. Get you a thorough massage in London when this is all over. Get someone who isn’t susceptible to bribery and lying. That Hedwig looks like a man, anyhow. I wouldn’t trust her as far as I could throw her, which wouldn’t be far.”

Mary’s lip quirked. She envisioned Hedwig tied to a caber, Lord Raeburn pitching her across a field.

No more imagining Alec Raeburn and his physical prowess. “You’ve got to leave. Make sure no one sees you.”

“When will I see you again?”

“I’ll report to Mrs. Evensong after dinner. I always—that is, since this job began, we’ve been sharing a brandy at the end of the day in her suite.”

Alec rose, towering over her. “How did you come to work for her?”

“Oh, you know, the usual way.” Mary shrugged. “I wanted a bit of an adventure after the grocery store.”

“You seem very comfortable with her, almost as if you’ve been working with her for years. She’s a frightening old lady, you know. Sees right into your soul.”

Mary decided to feel flattered. She’d always been called old-headed, and following in Aunt Mim’s footsteps had been relatively easy.

“You look a bit like her. Minus the wrinkles, of course,” Alec went on, staring down at her.

She could tell him part of the truth, couldn’t she?

“She actually
is
my Aunt Mim. My father’s sister.”

“Och, that explains it. No wonder she came along to watch you like a great black hawk. My Lord, she will kill me, won’t she, if she finds out about this afternoon.”

Mary had no intention of telling her aunt—or worse yet, Oliver—what had transpired in the treatment room. Perhaps someday, when this job was firmly behind them and they could have a good laugh over it.

Oliver could be invited upstairs now that he knew their secret. Between Aunt Mim and herself, they could keep him out of trouble.

“You won’t tell her, will you?”

Imagine, a great big bear of a man like Alec Raeburn being frightened of Aunt Mim—or really
her.
This dual—no, triple—identity of Mary’s was becoming confusing.

“As you said, she’s an old lady. I would not want to distress her,” Mary evaded.

“Until later then.” He hesitated at the door. “Don’t let that blackguard Bauer get too familiar tonight.”

“I assure you my virtue is safe.” For now. Mary couldn’t swear to remain pure if Alec touched her toes again.

He opened the door a fraction, decided the coast was clear, and left her standing on one boot on her carpet.

She needed to sit down. Looking up all that way at him made her disoriented.

What a day so far! She was certainly earning every penny for the agency. Mary caught a glimpse of herself in the long mirror on the wardrobe door and she looked far too healthy—her cheeks were rosy, her eyes sparkled, and even her hair looked curlier. She would have to do something about that before she went downstairs for dinner.

Mary ran her own bath. That was a little redundant after being scrubbed so vigorously by Hedwig, but the rose oil was giving her a tickle in the back of her throat. She imagined Alec was doing the very same thing, lowering his long body into the short copper tub in his suite.

Each set of rooms had its own bathroom consisting of a Crapper, tub, and pedestal sink. Water for plumbing one hundred en suite bathrooms was plentiful in the Highlands—all that snow melted into the underground rivers and lakes, easily plumbed into the modern building.

The hotel closed in the winter months since the roads were impassible, though. To live up here year-round must be a challenge. How had Lady Edith Raeburn managed before the hotel was built and she sought her dangerous liaison? As far as Mary knew, Alec’s young wife didn’t even go down to Edinburgh, but stayed immured at Raeburn Court like Rapunzel in her tower.

Mary wondered if Alec and his brothers planned to spend their winter at Raeburn Court wrapped in the Raeburn tartan staring gloomily into the fire now that she was dead. It seemed Edith had driven the men out of their own home.

She sank into the steaming water, far from relaxed, her mind spinning, only to jump when Oliver knocked some ten minutes later.

“What ho, Mrs. Evensong?” he asked behind the door.

“Hush, Oliver. The walls probably have ears.” She scrambled out of the tub, wrapping herself in a bath sheet. “I’ll be right out.”

“Reporting in, I am.”

“Hold your horses.” It didn’t really matter if Oliver saw her in dishabille—he wasn’t likely to feel any non-brotherly yearning. She dried off quickly and belted her robe. Oliver was in her bedroom, his feet up on her dressing table. It appeared from the bright pink of his forefinger he’d been messing with her rouge pot.

“Absolutely not,” Mary said, sweeping the glass container out of his reach. “Not even for fun. How did you spend your day?”

“Do you know how very boring golf is? All that whacking at a little white ball to get it into a little brown hole. And for what? Bragging rights? At least my caddie was a handsome laddie.”

“Oliver!” Mary warned.

“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t disgrace the mission. I’ve rounded up five fellows for cards tomorrow, and cream of the crop they are. Judge Whitley, who suffers from arthritis. Poor fellow kept dropping his club and I can’t imagine what he’ll do with the pasteboards. Stern old fellow, wrath of God in the courtroom. Big believer in right and wrong. I didn’t dare to cheat,” Oliver said, ticking off each guest on his fingers. “His friend barrister Richard Hurst, whose beloved young daughter is here for her asthma. Protector of the innocent and all that rot. Lord Peter Brantley, whose wife suffers from ‘nerves.’ Isn’t that your complaint, sis? But when she isn’t nervous, the woman is one of the biggest gossips in England and Brantley is not too far behind. Sir Jacob Rycroft, owner of
The London Ledger
and his brother Amos, both here for the fishing and a bit of brotherly bonding.
The Ledger
, you know, will print anything and worry about the truth later. I think we should be able to convince Bauer for the good of the hotel, which he owns shares in, he should resign and go back to yodeling in the Tyrol.”

“I believe they yodel in Switzerland, not Austria,” Mary said, grinning. “Excellent work, Oliver. You have been wasted at the reception desk all these months. When we get back, I’ll talk to Harriet. She has been mumbling about a vacation for ages, but we’ve been so busy. Between the two of us, we can train you to take her place for a little while, and then promote you to junior assistant if all goes well. The agency workload warrants it.”

Oliver leaped up, spinning Mary around so fast she thought she would get sick.

“Capital! I won’t let you down, I promise!”

“Well, for a start, you can
put
me down,” Mary said, breathless. “Won’t these upstanding gentlemen object to playing with Lord Raeburn?”

Oliver shook his head. “Not everyone believes the rumors. Raeburn went to school with the Rycroft brothers.
The Ledger
was the one paper that didn’t toss him in the mud when they could have. Brantley will want to fish around for the dirt. The London legal men are interested in Raeburn’s Special Reserve. It’s hard to get down south.”

“What time is your card game?”

“Nine o’clock sharp. I’ve arranged for a card table and extra chairs to be delivered and my furniture rearranged.”

“You do think of everything.” Mary was impressed with the meticulous care Oliver had exhibited so far. “So if I invite Bauer to my room at ten?”

“We shall all be well-lubricated and ready to rescue you. Leave the connecting door unlocked.”

Mary nodded. Tomorrow night was in train. Now she only had to get through tonight.