In the Arms of the Heiress (A LADIES UNLACED NOVEL) (31 page)

Yes, that was the spa’s attraction—unspoiled countryside. Pure air, high altitude, fresh water. Enough wildlife and waterfalls to thrill any amateur photographer. Yet there was train service to Pitcarran, a charming little town close enough for a day trip in one of the hotel’s horse-drawn wagonettes.

It seemed Mary had committed the advertisements to memory. She wondered if Oliver had saved any stories about it.

“Bauer knows me. I make him nervous,” Lord Raeburn continued. “He may slip and make a mistake.”

“He also may be on his best behavior,” Mary said. “Does he know he has you for an enemy?”

“Oh, yes.”

Mary shivered at the glitter in Lord Raeburn’s black eyes.

“Let me see if I understand this. You wish Dr. Bauer to be discovered in a compromising position with a patient, even though he knows you will be watching him.”

“The man’s ego—you are familiar with that alienist fellow Freud?—knows no bounds. He’s full of himself. I think because I will be there he’ll flaunt his indiscretions in front of me, knowing there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. Who will believe anything bad I have to say about him? Me, a man who killed his wife? I have no credibility.” Lord Raeburn sat back in his chair, looking vulnerable for the first time. Mary decided she had to reread all the newspaper accounts of Lady Edith Raeburn’s death.

“Let me think about this.”

“I don’t have time for you to dillydally, Mrs. Evensong. If you can’t get someone to do it, I’ll have to hire some actress. I do know a few.”

Yes, Mary had heard that he did. Lord Raeburn and his wife had lived apart for most of their marriage. No wonder the poor woman sought comfort in the arms of a sympathetic Dr. Bauer.

“Why haven’t you already?”

“The girls I know—let’s just say they’re more suited to the chorus line than playing an heiress. I need someone fresh. Innocent. Someone Bauer will think he can corrupt with no consequences. From what little I know, he only debauches virgins, who are then too mortified to confess their stupidity.”

“Then why did Dr. Bauer target Lady Raeburn?” From the moment she asked the question, Mary knew she had made a mistake. She watched Lord Raeburn struggle to frame his answer.

Instead of the shout she expected, his words, when they came, were quiet. “My wife was very young when we married. Delicate. She had a disgust of the marital act. Or perhaps she just had a disgust of me. Josef Bauer somehow overcame her objections.”

Mary Evensong was rarely surprised by anything her trickier clients had to tell her, but she was surprised now. Lord Raeburn had bared his heart. His pain. Somehow she knew he’d never told the truth to anyone before.

Edith Raeburn had been a virgin. And a fool.

Mary made her decision, and hoped she wouldn’t be sorry. “I’ll do it. That is, I’ll find someone for you. When will she have to leave?”

“We wouldn’t want to arrive at the hotel together—let’s say, get your girl to come a week from Thursday. The sooner we can put a period to Bauer’s villainy, the better. Do you have someone in mind?”

“Yes,” Mary said, hoping Aunt Mim would approve of her madcap plan.

Mary wasn’t madcap—she was steady. Sensible. Responsible. Boring. But that was about to change.

She pulled out a contract and discussed terms as if she didn’t have black and yellow bees buzzing drunkenly in her head.