In the Heart of the Highlander (14 page)

BOOK: In the Heart of the Highlander
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I
know what the man needs, but I doubt he’d be interested.” Oliver gave her a wicked wink.

Mary’s face grew warm. “You cannot flirt with the male clients, Oliver, or I’ll put you back at the reception desk.”

“Don’t worry—you know I’m well-behaved in public if I have to be. But it’s just us now.”

“One should act in private exactly as one does in public.” Not that she had lately.

“Really? How dull. But I’m sure you’re right. You always are.”

Was she? She was beginning to doubt it.

Chapter

17

A
lec took a cold bath once he returned to his suite. He was too old to be seducing women in public places and then running through the woods to escape discovery. Actually, the public aspect of seduction had never much bothered him—people could draw their own conclusions about his lack of morals as he nibbled necks in theater boxes or green rooms. He was a patron of the arts, wasn’t he, although his patronage was devoted solely to supporting actresses, music hall dancers, and artists’ models. The girls gave themselves to him freely, and he returned their favor with generous financial aid and glittering trinkets. Everyone knew the rules, and everyone was happy. Even Edith had been relieved when he’d given up on her and gone to London for amusement.

But he didn’t want to bring disgrace to Mary, and not only because of the game they were running with Bauer. She truly was an innocent, despite her outlandish proposal. He should never have invited her to Raeburn Court. He couldn’t renege now; her feelings would be hurt. And Alec didn’t
want
to reject her—he wanted her in his bed, her light auburn hair spread out on his pillow, her lush body under his, her white skin hot and flushed.

Gah. He’d have to take another bath if he kept thinking of her.

He went downstairs for a late lunch. The veranda was sparse of company, which suited him. He skimmed the newspapers that had come on the morning train. Yesterday’s news, but no good ever came of being too up-to-date. Most problems solved themselves with sufficient time—there was no reason to concern himself about things over which he had no control. He’d done his bit in Parliament, and a more frustrating endeavor he’d never participated in, especially regarding the Boer Wars debacle. Alec’s decision to spend most of the year in Scotland would be good for his mental health, even if he did have to live like a monk again.

He’d have his fling with Mary Arden. The memory of it would have to keep him warm this winter, and damn but Scottish winters were long and cold. But somehow his brother Evan managed to survive them. So could he.

Alec ate his lunch and returned to his room, pacing much of the next hour away in anticipation. Tonight, Edith would be avenged, and he’d pick up whatever scraps of honor remained to him.

The walls of his capacious suite seemed to be closing in on him, so he climbed the stairs to the gentlemen’s tower to blow a cloud or two to break the monotony. The hotel’s wagonette was on the circular drive, ready to take departing guests to the afternoon train. He took his silver match safe from his pocket and nearly dropped it over the balustrade as he saw Mrs. Evensong being helped into the vehicle by her maid. She was leaving? Were Mary and Oliver already seated under the canopy? By God, they were leaving him in the lurch after bleeding him of a fortune!

All thoughts of cigars gone, Alec raced down the stairs and practically bowled Mary Arden over in the lobby. Her eyes slid to the side in warning—Josef Bauer was bidding a patient good-bye near the hotel entrance.

“Pardon me, Miss Arden,” Alec said, his voice gruff.

“Please leave me alone,” she said, loud enough for everyone in the vicinity to hear.

Alec took a step backward, but was too late to escape Bauer’s notice. “Raeburn! You heard the lady. Your attentions are unwelcome.”

The insufferable snot. “I wasn’t paying attention to anyone in my hurry, that was the problem. I—I thought someone I knew was leaving and I wanted to speak to her before she left.”

“One of your
chères amies
? You see, Miss Arden, how inconstant the baron is.”

“You have saved me from his wicked predations, Dr. Bauer. I’m ever so grateful.”

The little witch batted her gilt-edged eyelashes, and Alec held back a chuckle. She could make a mint on the stage. Some artfully applied maquillage to enhance her pale, even features, and she might even be considered a beauty.

But he didn’t want to change her in any significant way. Now that he’d seen her at close quarters, she was lovely just as she was.

“Still here with us, Raeburn? I must speak to the hotel manager.”

“I’ve paid for another week, Bauer. Prescott has no reason to get rid of me. I’m as well-behaved—why, as
you
are.”

Alec was pleased to see the doctor flush with anger. Now that he was beardless, his face looked like a bland boiled egg.

“Come, Miss Arden, let us leave this fellow behind. Will you join me for dinner later?”

Mary twisted her hands. She was not wearing gloves and her fingers were short and plump, much like the rest of her. Alec wanted to kiss each fingertip, and would soon enough.

“Oh! I cannot. Helping my aunt pack was qu-quite exhausting.”

“I understand. Perhaps another time.” Bauer winked at Mary to show her he’d not forgotten their ten o’clock appointment. Mary blushed—how did she do that on cue?—and nodded.

The three of them stood in uncomfortable silence staring out the open doors as the wagonette left. Mrs. Evensong waved a handkerchief and gave Alec a very pointed frown before turning away.

“It is a pity your aunt was called away, Miss Arden,” Alec said.

“Yes. An emergency. But my br-brother is here to protect me.”

“And I as well,” Bauer said, daring to throw an arm around Mary. Alec bit his tongue, clenched his fists, and made for the staircase before he did anything rash. Of course he was relieved to find Mary and Oliver still here, but he wondered why Mrs. Evensong had to leave so unexpectedly.

He found out a quarter of an hour later when a tap at his door made him put down a glass of Raeburn’s Special Reserve. He had changed his clothes, and so had Mary. She was at the door, veiled and covered entirely in black. She reminded him very much of her aunt, but he’d never tell her so. Comparing her to a seventy-odd-year-old woman would likely result in a kick to his shins.

He knew he was grinning at her like an idiot, but even swathed in black she was a joy to behold. “To what do I owe the honor? And aren’t you hot?”

“Stifling.” Mary threw back the veil and looked around his sitting room. It was larger and more luxurious than her aunt’s, and she whistled her approval. “Very nice. I am incognita, but I thought we should have an actual talk before tonight. A talk, Lord Raeburn. No kissing or anything else of that nature. And my shoes shall remain on my feet for the duration.” She sounded wistful about the latter.

“I pledge to be on my best behavior. May I offer you a wee dram of Raeburn’s Special Reserve? My man Mackenzie is fetching another case. I expect him back any minute.”

“He is actually downstairs with Oliver setting up the bar right now. All of Oliver’s guests have confirmed they’re coming. Mr. Mackenzie has agreed to serve—he’s a very nice young chap, isn’t he?”

“Mac? Yes, I suppose he is.” The young valet had stuck by him when others had not.

“He isn’t married or walking out with anyone, is he?”

Alec snorted. “I’m afraid he’s not in the petticoat line. Any housemaids your aunt hires for me will be quite safe.” Alec had his suspicions about Mackenzie, but was not going to gossip about the fellow. Mac had never been less than professional, and if he wanted Alec to wear more colorful waistcoats, what was the harm? “About that drink?”

“Oh, yes. That would be lovely. I’d like to see what all the fuss is about.”

Alec’s great-grandfather had started the distillery over a hundred years ago. At first, it was for the family’s sole use, but it would have been criminal not to share. Now its reputation was known worldwide, and most of its product was imported to the United States at considerable profit. He poured a scant finger of the rich amber liquid into a glass, thinking it nearly matched Mary Arden’s hair, and handed it to her.

She looked at the tumbler. “It’s true. You Scots are stingy.”

“That will be quite enough for a wee lass such as yourself. And you may not like it anyhow.”

Mary took a sniff. “It smells wonderful. Strong, but wonderful.” She tilted the glass to her lips. “Oh, my.”

He could not have asked for a more radiant expression of her appreciation on her face. “I’ll tell Evan you approve.”

“I do. Oh, indeed I do. Aunt Mim would love it, too.”

“I’ll send her a case for your evening ritual. That is, if you’ll be staying in London with her.”

“I—I think I will be. She wants to bring me into the business.”


You?

Mary bristled beneath her outlandish black hat. “What do you mean ‘you’? Is it so hard to believe I could manage to sort out people’s problems? I’ll have you know I’m quite competent!”

Alec had stepped in it somehow. He couldn’t picture her chained to a desk on Mount Street. But then he couldn’t see her behind the counter in a grocery shop, either. In fact, the only place he could see her was in his bedroom at Raeburn Court.

What the hell? She’d only be in it a day, or a few at the most if he could persuade her to stay longer. And after that it was a life of penance and self-abnegation for him.

Wasn’t it?

“I meant nothing insulting by it, Mary. It’s just that you’re so—” What was she precisely? Petite? Young? No, she really wasn’t young, but in his experience a gentleman did not remind a lady of that fact.

“—spirited. I find it hard to see you shut up in an office.”

“Maybe my aunt will assign me to more undercover work. I think it suits me.”

She had been an effective actress, much more skilled than Alec’s usual theatrical acquaintances.

“I will write you a positive recommendation if you need it. Where did your aunt go?”

“My—I mean
her
assistant had a medical emergency. Appendicitis. I gather she’s lucky they caught it when they did. She’ll be in hospital for a while, and then recuperating at home. There was no one to run the agency in her absence, so Aunt Mim left.”

“No wonder she’ll want you to help her. It’s quite an operation, isn’t it? The building was buzzing when I visited.”

Mary nodded. “There are six full-time employees. With Oliver still here, Aunt Mim will have her hands full. The girl stenographers need a steady hand.”

She seemed to know a good deal about the business already, so perhaps it was a good fit. “The Evensong Agency has an excellent reputation. I’m sure you’ll add to it. Now, what did you want to talk about?”

She looked down at the feet she wanted to keep covered. “Just how far do you want me to let Dr. Bauer progress tonight before we are discovered?”

“Progress!” Alec didn’t want Bauer “progressing” at all. He’d wanted to cut the man’s arm off when he put it around Mary’s shoulder in the lobby. “Don’t let the bastard touch you. It should be enough that he’s discovered in your room at such a late hour.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Mary said. “He can always say that I was unwell and rang for him.”

She was right. “Blast.”

“So I think I’ll need to go a bit further than I—that is, my aunt—agreed to.”

Alec felt a wave of revulsion sweep through him. “You’re not suggesting—”

“Of course not.” He didn’t have to finish the sentence. Mary’s face was scarlet, but she went on. “Just a touch of dishabille. My hair down. That sort of thing.”

“You’ll have to scream, too.”

“I can do that. I actually practiced at the waterfall this morning. The water was so noisy I didn’t think I’d alarm anyone.”

Alec pictured Mary exercising her lungs near dawn. “You must have scared the squirrels.”

“I must have.” She cleared her throat. “I think we’ll need to be on the bed.”

“Pardon me?”

“Bauer and I. That way the implication will be clear.”

When the honey trap Alec had envisioned was set with some nameless actress, it was one thing. What had once seemed like a brilliant idea was now rather horrific. “I suppose you’re right.”

“And you must let Oliver do all the talking. We are strangers, after all.”

“Wait a moment. People have seen us together. It would be only natural for me to defend a lady in peril, even if I hadn’t taken tea with her.”

She gave him a stern look. “There will be no bloodshed, Lord Raeburn.”

“I don’t see why not,” Alec said, feeling stubborn. He’d been itching to pummel Bauer into the ground for months. Below the ground, straight to everlasting hell.

“If anyone is to do any hitting, let it be Oliver. It will be good for him.”

“I can’t promise anything.” He was seeing red already, imagining Mary in Bauer’s arms.

“Look, Alec, it must not appear we’re in collusion. If Bauer catches wind of that, your money will be wasted. And he might have grounds to sue you for . . . something. I’m not as well-versed in the law as I should be.”

He could see her point, but the desire to eviscerate Bauer would not disappear anytime soon. “I’ll do my best to remain a disinterested party. Let’s drink on it.” Alec raised his glass and tapped it to hers.

“To tonight’s success,” Mary said.

They were still standing, which was very odd. He watched as she took a swallow, her clear hazel eyes lifted to his. Some nameless thread tightened between them, stitch by stitch. His head felt woozy, and it was not due to the faultlessly blended liquor.

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