In the Heart of the Highlander (16 page)

“Wh-what was that?”

He misunderstood. “Just a French trick I learned on my Grand Tour. Did you like it?”

“Of course I did, you insufferable man. How could one not?” She’d read the words.
Cunnilingis. Gamahuche
. Harsh syllables that bore no resemblance to the actual thing.

He cupped her damp cheek and stared down at her. “I didn’t hurt you?”

From the frying pan into the fire.

“No. No, it was lovely. Will you do it all over again on Monday?”

Chapter

19

M
ary Arden was extraordinary in her wrinkled dress, a small package of brazen innocence. Her pale copper hair had come loose from its pins and lay in disarray upon his pillow, her topknot a misnomer, no longer on top. Her eyes were bright with tears—happy ones, he presumed—and her cheeks pink. He wished he could see if the flush extended to the skin beneath the pleated black fabric, but he’d have to wait. It wouldn’t be too much longer.

“Until Monday then,” he replied, his voice rough. “I picked up a few other things on my travels as well.” And he would be privileged to try all his techniques on this vixenish virgin.

Alec tucked a silky strand of hair behind her ear. She would need considerable setting to rights before she left his suite, even if she was wearing a veiled hat. It would be fatal for their plan for her to be recognized. She was right—they’d been pushing limits every time they saw each other. Alec had been unable to stay away, to rein himself in. He was behaving like the veriest love-struck fool.

Blast! He was not in love. Would never be again. But he was feeling something damned inconvenient.

“I should go back to my room.”

He didn’t want her to. Alec felt as if he were sending her into danger. What if Bauer overpowered her as easily as he had?

He’d be right next door with Oliver and the others, he reminded himself. Even his weedy valet Mac was stronger than he looked.

“Let me help you.” He rolled off the bed with reluctance and picked her black straw bonnet up from the floor. Its brim had taken a beating and he smoothed it out with his clumsy hands.

It looked familiar. Alec paid attention to women’s clothes, as so often he had paid for them and wanted to see if he was getting his money’s worth. He’d seen this grim hat before, minus the veil, on Mrs. Evensong’s gray head when he went to engage her services.

Perhaps aunt and niece shared clothes. Mary was too young to be encased in black, though. He found mourning clothes to be needlessly depressing—what good did it do the dead to have their female relatives mope about like a murder of crows? It was easier for gentlemen; he’d worn his black armband for Edith, of course. It was the least he could do, after failing her so badly.

Mary sat up and tried to make some progress with her hair.

“Here. Let me.” Alec went to the shaving stand and picked up his silver-backed brush. Mac could clean the reddish hairs out of it and taunt him later. He slid the hairpins from her hair and placed them on the pillow. “Sit still and turn a little.”

Alec knelt down behind her and ran the hairbrush through the glory of her hair. She tensed over a knot, and he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Sorry. Believe it or not, I’m not used to doing this.”

Once he got the hang of it, it was comforting to perform such a domestic chore. Her hair rippled beneath the brush, threads of bronze and amber and gold shining bright. The plain three-letter word
red
did it injustice—her hair was the color of a painted medieval Madonna he’d seen on the same Grand Tour where he’d learned some distinctly sinful things.

Alec knew he had to send her on her way before he was tempted any further. He gathered up the rose-gold river of hair and wrapped it into a clump, then set to restoring the pins. Her hat would cover the mess he was making, and she could ready herself her own way for Bauer’s visit.

“There. Good as new.”

She rose and went to the angled mirror of the shaving stand, adjusting it to her much smaller height. “You’ll never make a good lady’s maid, I’m afraid.” She smiled into the mirror, meeting his eyes.

He grinned back. “Then it’s a good thing I’m a baron, isn’t it?”

“What does a baron do? Tramp around the hills in a kilt and play the bagpipes all day?”

He hadn’t noticed the little crease on her left cheek when she smiled before. What else was he going to discover? “Hardly. I’d scare the sheep on those hills, and the sheepdogs would howl and bite me for certain. It’s beautiful scenery to tramp through, though—you’ll see when you come to Raeburn Court.”

He stood and passed her the ugly hat. “I have the usual dependents and properties and investments to look after.” Which he’d neglected too long.

Mary tucked the messy bun into its crown and dropped her veil. “I’ll see you later.”

“Wait.” He lifted the veil and touched her cheek, looking for the dimple. “A kiss for luck.”

“Alec. We shouldn’t. You’ve done quite enough today to bring me luck.” Her eyes dropped in sudden shyness. A few minutes ago, the most private part of her was open to him.

“I can never do enough.” He bent and kissed her cool wide forehead, then skimmed her nose to touch her objecting lips with his own. She shivered as he covered her mouth.

He intended to be simple—a quick brush of his lips against hers. But the kiss turned complex almost at once, their tongues tangling with near desperation. Her arms were wound around his neck, pulling him down to her level. He’d have to get her to stand on a footstool in the future.

Could she taste herself? His head was still full of the citrusy tang of her pleasure. She’d been so responsive, like a candle in flame. There were things he could do, things he could teach her in their time together so that she would never forget him.

Was that fair to her? She should marry, not slave for her aunt in a crabbed little office. Of course, the Evensong Agency was not crabbed at all—its rooms on Mount Street were spacious and well-appointed, clear to all clients that the concern was a prosperous one.

What was he doing thinking of work and office space? He had a lovely warm woman in his arms who should drive all rational, troublesome thought from his head. That’s what women were good for—to divert, to ease, to tease. But Mary Arden made him examine his feckless past and made him want to be something he was not.

He was heading into dangerous territory, a place he’d been before with disastrous results. He’d thought to build a new life before with Edith, and marriage had only driven him back deeper into deviltry. Not that he’d done anything dozens of his peers did not do—he had plenty of company as a stage-door Johnny. His tastes weren’t peculiar and didn’t run to underage girls. In fact, he was about as dull a devil sinning as he could imagine.

He smiled as he kissed her, feeling the fool. Strange how a perfect innocent should be teaching him to examine the error of his ways.

Alec didn’t want to think too far ahead. Getting through tonight would be enough for now. Shaming Bauer would go some way to eradicating his own shame. And then, he had bedding Mary Arden to look forward to.

Her lips were as soft as the rest of her, and his senses were clouded with her fragrance. Alec could get used to holding her, kissing her, teaching her to respond to his touch. How could she have escaped sensual experience all these years?

He thanked God for it. She was ripe for him. Hell, this had all been her idea! But he wasn’t familiar with virgins—he’d have to be careful, more careful than he’d been with Edith. He’d frightened her to disgust, and he couldn’t bear to do that with Mary.

She wasn’t disgusted now. Her plump little fingers were feathering through his hair, giving him chills straight down the back of his neck to the base of his spine. But he was fully clothed. What would she do when she saw his manhood rising to impale her?

A man of his station had custom clothes and footwear made as a matter of course, but if he’d been a regular chap, he’d be doomed if he had to buy off the rack. He was simply too big. Everywhere. His usual flirts were always complimentary when they saw him in undress, although they hid their initial look of alarm quickly—they were actresses, after all.

He’d never hurt a woman, had trained himself to give as much pleasure as he got. His
chères amours
received more than jewels and trinkets in his keeping. But Mary Arden was not a voluptuary.

Could she tell he was nervous? It was as if twenty years had dropped away and he was a gawky youth. She pressed her sweet form against him as if to assure him she was confident of his abilities. He himself was not so certain, though the kiss promised all the heaven to come. He did not know whether the promise originated from Mary or him, and didn’t care.

For once he didn’t feel under suspicion. These last months, his wealth had bought companionship, if not peace. True, he’d paid Mary’s aunt an exorbitant sum, but Mary was in his arms because she wanted to be.

Alec wanted her back on the bed, out of the dreadful dress, white legs splayed again, breathless, liquid, lush. He would center his cock over her neat copper nether hair and make her his in a gentle, achingly slow thrust.

Mary had a different idea, her hands now between them, pushing him away as the kiss turned to a series of frantic, ragged nibbles. He wasn’t insulted. He could not mistake what she needed, yet had no time for. So this must stop, wind down somehow. He had to find a modicum of sense—Mac could come in at any minute. Tomorrow they’d have more time to explore the electricity between them.

He drew back and held her at arms’ length. Her hat was tipsy again, her cheeks and lips red. Mary wore the dazed expression Alec so rarely saw in his paid lovers. One couldn’t fake such a look, and it made his cock swell with impossible pride. He adjusted her hat and dropped the veil so no one else would recognize the signs of her submission.

“Do not let that vile lecher lay a finger on you or I’ll have to kill him. You are
mine
.”

Her laughter was strained. “You sound very fierce, my lord. I suppose I’m yours for a little while at least. I begin to wonder if I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.”

He pictured her swollen lips around his cock, minus any biting, and was swept with longing. Alec needed to let her go and get ready, and he needed a good stiff drink and a cold bath.

He led her from his bedroom to the parlor. “Let me look out into the hallway. If anyone does see you, they’ll probably think you are your aunt. Hopefully they won’t be aware that she left this afternoon.” Alec opened the door. The carpeted hallway was empty. “All clear, my dear. I will see that you are safe tonight. Do not worry.”

“Worrying is one of my specialties, but I trust you and Oliver.” She gave him a little wave and hurried down the hall toward the stairs.

His rooms were much duller without her presence. Alec poured himself a drink and gazed out the window with disinterest. He had almost the same view at home, just from a different angle. Raeburn Court had been built into these hills far longer than the Forsyth Palace Hotel, but they were similar in architectural style. They both sported stone towers and odd metal decorations along the roof. It seemed the London architects had based their plans on his ancestral home, only doubling the size of it. Imitation was a form of flattery, but it had galled his brothers that their territory could be invaded by the public. He’d put up the barriers on the connecting path himself.

Raeburn Court was a wilder place, lacking the groomed trails through the forest that might attract trespassers. It was a real castle, as opposed to this trumped-up version, though Alec wouldn’t mind importing some of the plumbing and electricity. All that was on his list this winter as he modernized the generations-old family seat. Future Raeburns would be grateful, although neither of his brothers seemed in any hurry to reproduce. Perhaps old Mrs. Evensong would put her matchmaking skills to work to ensure the succession. He pictured Evan’s scowl at being introduced to a suitable girl. Nick would simply laugh and book another train ticket to some exotic place.

Alec rubbed his jaw, heavy with his afternoon beard. This trying to please Mary Arden was arduous, he thought with a rueful grin. Should he wait for Mac to return or just swipe his razor over his face?

To his shame, he’d seen the rosy rash on her white thighs from his earlier attentions. The poor girl now had something tangible to remember him by, and that couldn’t be pleasant, although she did have her salve. He’d have to do better at Raeburn Court next week, even if he had to shave five times a day.

Chapter

20

F
or the past hour, Mary had jumped at every thump, shout, and knock from next door. The card party was lively, the waft of cigar smoke burrowing in under the connecting door between her room and Oliver’s. They also shared a bathroom, and Mary felt herself go scarlet every time one of Oliver’s guests relieved himself.

Apparently men could continue conversations as they pissed, which seemed very scandalous to Mary’s way of thinking. She was simply unused to being in such close proximity to men and their rude behavior. When she had lived with her brother, Albert, and his family, she’d been stuck up in the attic with the servants, having been turned out of her own girlhood room above the store when the twins arrived. She was still living over the store so to speak, but males of any age were entirely absent upstairs on Mount Street. Hamblen lived in, as did Mrs. Norris, their housekeeper-cook. Mrs. Norris had begun her career as Norine de la Rue, and of the streets she had been until Aunt Mim took her in. Aunt Mim was an exacting but fair employer, Norine had proved a better cook than courtesan, and Mary’s home life had been comfortable these last four years.

Would she remain comfortable now that Aunt Mim was reclaiming her authority? Only time would tell.

She checked her watch for the hundredth time, listening for Alec’s rumbling laughter next door. At least one of them was having a good time. She had never been more anxious.

Her hair was down, tied at the nape with a blush-pink ribbon that matched the tea gown she’d decided on. Pink was a fragile color, girlish. Having red hair, Mary had not worn much pink in her life, as it was against some unwritten feminine rule. She thought she looked quite nice in it, however, and decided to canvas more secondhand shops for some wardrobe improvement when she returned to town. She couldn’t wear pink in the office if she expected to be taken seriously—brown and gray and navy blue it would be—but she might have more time to have some sort of social life.

And she would have it in pink dresses.

It was just past ten o’clock. Was she imagining things, or had Oliver’s room quieted some? She poured a glass from the carafe of springwater that had been delivered to her room and took a nervous sip. She had not requested it, but the Forsyth Palace Hotel had every amenity, including a turndown service. Ha. As if she was incapable of folding over the white coverlet and fluffing her pillows by herself. The tray the maid had brought had come with a crystal dish of bonbons, too, but Mary had been too wound up to eat any. With her luck, she’d smear chocolate on her dress and get some stuck to her teeth.

Mary paced, then drank more water, wishing it was Raeburn’s Special Reserve. Where was Bauer? Did he have a medical emergency that prevented him from keeping their appointment? So much depended upon his prompt arrival. Mary knew card games could last all night, but she couldn’t—she was suddenly exhausted by the startling events of her day and wanted to do nothing but crawl under that turned-down coverlet and fall asleep.

She yawned, her mouth opening so wide her jaw cracked. Goodness. If Bauer didn’t come soon, she might miss his knock altogether. She sat down in one of the armchairs and closed her eyes. Just for a moment.

She did not hear him as he entered, or feel his fingers as he nimbly unbuttoned the front of her dress. It was the click of his Brownie camera that woke her.

She clutched at her gaping bodice, her head swimming. “D-Dr. Bauer! How long have you been here?”

Mary’s room was blazing with lights. She had been aiming for a “romantic” atmosphere earlier, but every electric lamp had been turned on. She blinked and tried to shake herself awake. Her arms and legs felt leaden.

“Not too long, my dear. I knocked but you didn’t answer. I thought, no wonder with all the noise in the next room. But then I find you sleeping like a fairy princess in your throne. So
schön
.”
His fingers stroked her cheek and Mary sank deeper into her chair.

“H-how did you get in?” She was quite sure her door had been locked.

He chuckled. “With a passkey, my love. So convenient, yes? I had wondered if I might find you in bed waiting for me. I confess I am a little sorry to find you still dressed.”

And decided to help her out of her dress while she was asleep and then photograph her in dishabille. Dr. Bauer was even creepier than she had imagined.

But he must keep evidence to use against his conquests—pictures and letters to make them pay up. Mary glanced down to see if her corset was still firmly hooked. It was, thank God.

“I—I thought we w-would talk first,” she said, stuttering without even trying to.

He pulled her up from the chair with alarming strength. “We shall be much too busy to talk, Fräulein Arden. I am taking you to heaven while your silly brother plays his games.”

Mary untangled herself from his embrace. “I am horribly thirsty. Do you want some water?”

Bauer gave her an odd look. “No thank you, my love. But water is good for the body. Adam’s ale, I believe you English call it. Drink it—drink it all up.” He tipped the carafe and splashed more water into her goblet. She swallowed a huge mouthful and then remembered last night and his little flask of clear liquid. Had he arranged to have her water drugged? Perhaps the chocolates were poisoned, too. He expected her to be too weak to fight him off.

She dropped the glass, where it rolled harmlessly away on the thick carpet.

“Oh dear. I am so clumsy. And I don’t feel quite the thing.” She really was woozy and warm. Mary needed to do something, but when? She felt mired in molasses, unable to form a plan.

“Ha! Then it is perfect that I, a doctor, am here. Let me help you out of these confining clothes. You women and your corsets. If you are not careful you will ruin your organs with all this tight-lacing.”

Mary couldn’t work up the energy to stop him. He spun her around and she heard the snipping sound of her corset strings being cut. Probably with surgical scissors, the fiend. The compression on her waist and abdomen relaxed, yet she held the front of the corset up with a trembling hand. This was not supposed to be happening this way.

He was tipping her backward on the bed now, covering her exposed throat with wet kisses. Mary shuddered and closed her eyes to stop the room from spinning. His hands were everywhere. She heard the corset clatter to the floor, felt her combination slide down and heard Bauer’s grunt of satisfaction. Her nipples hardened in the cool evening air and then inside Bauer’s mouth. She flailed ineffectually at his back, but was unable to beat him off.

He chuckled above her, his long fingers caressing her breast. “We shall take a photograph now, yes? Before and after. Before, you are worried a little. Silly girl. After, I make you a woman and you have a big smile on your face. No more nerves.”

He arranged her body on the pillows. Mary was as helpless as a rag doll, unable to stop him from tearing away fabric and ribbons. She watched with blurred vision as he picked up his camera and shot his six pictures, then reloaded the film.

“Now we get down to the business of lovemaking. But perhaps I should put something over your mouth. We don’t want your brother hearing our fun.” He glanced around the room for a handy gag and Mary clawed her way out of her lethargy.

“Alec! Oliver! Help! Help me!”

Her words sounded faint to her own ears, but they must have done the trick. Oliver burst through the connecting door, his guests hot on his heels.

“Jesus Christ! What is the meaning of this, Bauer? What have you done to my sister?”

The doctor stood frozen, his necktie slipping from his fingers. Alec pushed past Oliver and covered Mary with his coat. “You fuck your patients, Bauer? Isn’t that against some sort of oath?”

“She—she invited me here. It meant nothing.”

“Nothing?” Oliver sputtered. “My sister’s virginity is nothing to you? You swine!” Oliver lunged for Bauer and grabbed him by the collar.

“Are you all right, Miss Arden?” Alec asked, his face white with rage.

“Dr-drugged. He put something in the water so he could . . . you know.” Her eyes filled with tears. Another minute or two and it would have been too late for her. For them.

“I’ll never forgive myself for this,” Alec said, and he knocked Bauer to the carpet with one crunching blow as Oliver let him fall.

“Here now.” The elderly judge—Mary couldn’t remember his name—placed a hand on Alec’s shoulder. “Don’t trouble yourself with this foreign bit of rubbish. We’ll report him to the manager.”

“He’s part owner of the hotel,” one of the other gentlemen said. “I bet he’s been doing this kind of trick ever since it opened.”

Mary nodded. “He t-told me he would cure my nerves like he c-cured the others.” Her lips felt numb. It was a struggle to get the words out.

Another stranger loomed over her. “He didn’t—”

“N-no. Thank you for coming to rescue me.” The dam had burst and Mary was sobbing for real now. One of the men went for the pitcher of water.

“No! It has something in it. I can barely move.”

That was enough for Alec. He kicked Bauer even though the doctor was still cowering on the floor. “Get up, you blackguard. And get out.”

“You! You orchestrated this.” Bauer glared up at Alec, wiping the blood from his mouth.

“What on earth are you talking about?” Oliver interjected. “Get out of my sister’s room before I call the authorities.”

“You’d best leave the premises before word gets out of your proclivities. No one will come here to take your kind of ‘cure,’” one of the men said. “I have the power to shut down the hotel. One word in my newspaper of what I’ve witnessed here and the place is finished.”

The newspaperman. Alec’s school friend. Mary had a piercing pain at her temple. She wished everyone would leave. “The pictures,” she said groggily.

Oliver picked up the camera. “You took pictures of Mary in this state?” Mary thought he might pitch the camera at Bauer’s head, but instead he threw it out the window, where it smashed below.

“We’ll go down to talk to Prescott. He’ll find another doctor if he knows what’s good for his paycheck. Don’t worry, Arden. Our lips are sealed. Your sister is the victim here. No one would believe she lured Bauer up here—she isn’t the type.”

Mary was too exhausted to be insulted. So she didn’t appear attractive enough half-undressed and wrapped in Alec’s jacket, her hair every which way? Fine. She didn’t want to be pawed or slobbered over ever again.

“I’ll go down and make sure Bauer packs up,” Alec said. “Oliver, take care of Ma—Miss Arden. Order her some tea and put a dash of Raeburn’s Special Reserve in it to settle her.”

“If I didn’t know better, Raeburn, I’d think this was all an elaborate hoax so I couldn’t recoup my losses,” a mustachioed fellow said. “Quite an evening, quite an evening. Let’s go speak to Prescott, gentlemen, and give Miss Arden the privacy she needs.”

Alec dragged Bauer up from the floor and pushed him out the door, followed by the other men. Oliver raked a hand through his blond curls and looked down at her. “By Jove, that was a close thing. I’m so sorry, Mary. I kept wandering over to the door all night. Even went into to the bathroom half a dozen times. I hardly heard you when you finally called.”

“Sit down. I’m seeing two of you.” When she and Alec had “practiced,” she’d never expected drugs to be involved. How lucky that she’d had only a few sips of the water. “We should have that water tested to see what he used. I wonder if he drugged everyone to get his way with them.”

“I suppose we’ll never know. No wonder it was easy for him to blackmail the girls. He had photographic proof. What a bastard.”

“Th-thank you, Oliver.” She reached for his hand.

“I didn’t do half enough. Raeburn got his licks in, though.”

Mary pulled up the coat. It smelled of cigars and Blenheim Bouquet and Alec. “I hope that won’t seem odd to the witnesses.”

“It was all so confusing when we came in, I doubt they paid much attention. All eyes were on you—Raeburn’s jacket doesn’t quite cover everything.”

Mary realized her useless bare legs were still splayed on the bed. “Get me a blanket, Oliver, would you? I really can’t move.”

“What have I been thinking?” he cried. He dashed into his room and came back with his own white coverlet, tucking it tenderly around her quaking body. “Do you want me to call room service for tea?”

“No. Just fetch a glass of liquor for me. If there’s any left.”

“I probably drank more than I ought to have, I was so edgy. I’ll be right back.”

Mary shut her eyes. So much for best-laid plans. But at least Bauer was gone and couldn’t assault any more young women here.

What if he got another position and tried the same thing? Mary’s head hurt too much to think of it. Perhaps Oliver’s guests could spread the truth somehow and prevent Bauer from repeating his repellent behavior.

Mary felt filthy. His hands and mouth had been on her, leaving an invisible trail of slug slime. What she wanted was her drink and a hot bath and several nights’ sleep. She sipped the spirits that Oliver handed her and asked him to run her a bath. She couldn’t trust the maids at the hotel to come up and help her. For all she knew they were in Bauer’s thrall. The girl who had brought the tray this evening had such an innocent freckled face.