In the Heart of the Highlander (23 page)

Chapter

31

A
lec plucked Mary’s plump fingers away and walked to the tower window. The flagstones below had been scrubbed and scrubbed, but he could swear he still saw the blood. He wasn’t even really angry that she had snooped in the desk. It was his own fault—the diary was right there where anyone could find it. He should have destroyed it instead of torturing himself with it these past months.

He put a hand on the glass. One of his clumsy, useless paws that brought nothing but fear to most. “You don’t understand anything.”

“Then explain it to me.”

The vista had calmed him all his life. The shadows and clouds on the mountains were as much a part of him as the air he breathed, but today he felt nothing.

How often had Edith stood in this very spot, feeling trapped?

“I left Edith alone up here in this tower when I shouldn’t have. She was so young, a girl really, when we married. She objected to my mother’s suite almost at once, perhaps because it was adjacent to my father’s, therefore mine. She was afraid I would come in to bother her.”

“Exerting your husbandly rights is not precisely bothering her. You didn’t try to take her by force, did you?”

Alec felt the blood drain from his face. Even Mary doubted his honor.

He had been damned and doomed for his size and strength all his life. Only his brothers understood, for they were much the same dimensions as he. It was one thing to wrestle with them—he would never touch a woman without every effort to be gentle.

“Of course not,” he said with resignation. If Mary didn’t believe him, what did it matter? She would go back to London and her business and her secrets, and he’d be right here, alone, where he belonged. “I left her while I amused myself in London, and then even after I returned, we lived separate lives. She breakfasted by herself. Dined by herself. I’d stopped trying. We barely spoke, and when we did talk, it was to argue.”

He ran a hand over his nonexistent beard. He missed it. Well, now he could grow it back since he wasn’t trying to please Mary Arden anymore. “We could have managed in a white marriage. People do. People whose desires are kept under control. But I didn’t have any self-control. I thought with my cock. I’d fuck anyone available. Maybe I’m still doing that.”

He heard Mary’s hiss of breath as she understood the insult. He didn’t mean to hurt her, but after today, he was no longer sure of anything. Who was Mary, really? An innocent virgin or a conniving businesswoman? Certainly someone who uncovered his most closely guarded shame without much difficulty. He was unraveling before her eyes.

“Alec, she rejected you for all the years of your marriage. Made you feel like a—” He listened as she reached for words that would hurt
him
. He’d used them all on himself.
Beast. Lecher. Animal.

“Yes, yes. Like some kind of brute. No matter how gentle I tried to be, she was repulsed. But I should have understood and tried harder. She was so afraid of me that she took her own life rather than tell me the truth.”

“Perhaps she was afraid to tell you she’d broken her marriage vows.”

He shook his head. If only it were that simple. “When I had more than a dozen times? You know my well-deserved reputation. No, it was worse than that. Much worse.”

Alec needed to tell her if there was any future for them at all beyond today. He sat down on the window seat. Nine months ago, Edith had climbed up on this jacquard cushion to plunge to her death.

“Edith was pregnant with Bauer’s child, Mary.” He was proud his voice didn’t break—he’d never uttered the words out loud. Not even Evan knew. “The good doctor offered to get rid of it for her, but apparently she couldn’t go through with it. I gather you didn’t get that far in her diary.

“She tried to tell me, but I didn’t pay proper attention. We quarreled as usual over something stupid—can you believe I can’t even remember what? I’ve tried and tried, and it’s all a blur, just accusations and recriminations running together like a jerky movie reel. She ran away from me, came up here, and jumped.”

He didn’t dare look at Mary behind him, just focused on the stone courtyard below. “I would have cared for the child as my own, I swear, even if it had meant Evan not inheriting. I always wanted children—that’s really why I married. It’s ironic. I’ll never have any of my own, and Edith’s child is lost to me forever. She didn’t trust me to raise it. To her, it was better to kill the baby and herself than depend upon me to do the right thing.”

“Oh, Alec.” He heard the swish of her skirts as she walked across the room and sat down beside him. He still couldn’t face her, couldn’t face his failure.

She didn’t try to touch him, thank God. He thought he might shatter if she did. The quiet of the room had a sound of its own and Alec had never felt such bleakness. His confession had ended what was between them, whatever it was. It was just as well. But at least she would understand why he wasn’t fit for anyone.

The minutes stretched between them. Why didn’t she just get up and go? He’d arrange to have them driven down to the railway station first thing tomorrow morning, if Oliver could be untangled from Mac.

“You cannot blame yourself. She was unbalanced.” Her voice was soft. Reasonable. She spoke to him as if he was an injured child.

He turned to her, his anger growing. “Did you hear anything I said?”

“Every word. She did a horrible thing.
She
did it—it had nothing to do with you. You were patient with her for four years. Most men would have sought a legal separation or even a divorce. You gave her everything she wanted, and still she betrayed you.”

Alec waved his arm at the overdecorated room. “I just gave her
things.
They mean nothing.”

“They meant enough to her to write about them in her diary, pages and pages of descriptions of furniture and jewels and dresses. You were very generous.”

“I tried to buy my way into her favor,” he said, bitter. “It didn’t work.”

“And never would have! You are no manipulator, Alec. Not really. Yes, you go after what you want. But you are a good man at the heart of it. You would never have tried to seduce me. Remember,
I
asked
you.
If Bauer has any skill over you, it’s that he sees weakness and takes advantage. I don’t think—” She paused. “I don’t think Edith could have been altogether in her right mind at the end. She was a perfect candidate for Bauer’s spa—unworldly, high-strung, rich, and hysterical in the truest sense of the word. She was so awfully young. Immature for her years. Most twenty-one-year-old women are mothers. You told me yourself she had no friends, and her family was eager to hand her over to you. I know from what you said and from what I did manage to read in the journal, the servants that remained did not like her. I read her complaints in her own words.”

“She was mercurial.” At first he’d been charmed by her flights of fancy. She was so beautiful he thought he’d give and forgive her anything, but had not anticipated the cost.

“Listen to yourself, making excuses for the inexcusable. Now listen to
me
. You cannot blame yourself for what happened. You have protected her reputation throughout all this at the expense of your own.”

“What good would it have done to tell the truth? No one would have believed me, and I’d only appear a bigger cad than I was already. I learned long ago that no one wins here, certainly not poor Edith. The fact is, she was desperate and I didn’t help her.”

“I am not going to sit here arguing with you. You are wrong, and I am right.” Mary’s face was set, and for a flash he could see the seventy-year-old woman she would become. No wonder she could fool people. Would she be around so he could see her grow into that old age every day? Be lectured by her, harassed and harangued? She touched something inside him he thought he never had to begin with.

Alec Raeburn had never expected to fall in love. People of his class did not.
Should
not. His father had, and look what that had gotten him. He’d fallen for his tenant farmer’s daughter. Once the ardor between them inevitably cooled, their mismatch was a misery. His parents had been more or less civil, but Alec and his brothers had not been fooled. His mother’s tempestuous rages were brought on by disgust at something his father had done, or didn’t do. The old baron spent much of his marriage hiding out in London just as Alec had done. The man hadn’t gone there for the views.

Men were expected to break their wedding vows, and Alec had. He had wanted Edith, for who had not the year she’d debuted? But they’d never enjoyed even a temporary warmth between them, a honeymoon phase he could look back at with gentle regret as he squired his latest mistress down Bond Street.

What would marriage be like to a woman who was not mercurial, but sensible? Level-headed. A woman whose wise advice had been accepted by valets and viscounts. A woman with russet hair and gold-flecked skin, a stubborn chin, and a bosom that could only be described as spectacular.

“You are right and I am wrong,” he repeated. If only it were that easy.

She nodded. “Exactly.”

What the hell. Maybe he could persuade himself not to think of anything unpleasant or meaningful for a few days. Just have a sensual interlude before the past came back to haunt him. He had the rest of his life to be guilty and unhappy.

Alec got on his feet. “Let’s get out of here. That is, if you’re still game to bunk down in the gatehouse for a day or two.”

Mary looked up, smiling at him as though she had no reason whatever to be repulsed by him and the mess he’d made of everything. “You have promised me a holiday. I have no intention of leaving just yet.”

“Even after what I’ve told you. You are a most peculiar woman.”

“I shouldn’t like to upset your valet and your brother if they’ve gone to all the trouble of fixing up the place for our use.”

He wouldn’t mention the rats.

Chapter

32

M
ary held on to her hat as Alec’s Pegasus bumped through an old-growth forest. The estate trail to the north gatehouse was much worse than the public road they came in on. The canopy of trees arced above them, blocking out sunlight and mountains and sky. The air was fragrant with pine and ancient earth. Mary felt as though she were submerged beneath a green sea, its dim light somewhat oppressive.

“No one uses this path anymore,” Alec shouted over the roar of the engine. “As you can tell.” The car dipped into a rut and miraculously pulled out. He shifted gears and slowed down, wary of the darting creatures ahead. The car had awakened a squadron of red squirrels who chattered above them as they rolled onward.

They came at last to the stone lodge, a little smaller than the one at the front gates. Alec parked in the attached stable, throwing a tarp over the vehicle once he’d helped Mary out and gathered up their cases.

There were condoms in his trunk, and Mary was determined to put them to use. Alec needed connection—he needed
her
.

No wonder he had been so determined to bring Bauer down. She had been very careful not to show her horror when Alec revealed the truth about Edith’s death, but she
was
horrified. To live under such a burden—no wonder Alec had lost himself in the fleshpots of London. Mary almost could not find it in her heart to sympathize with Edith, for what she had done had ruined three lives.

Would Alec ever be able to move forward, to find a normal woman to share a life with? He deserved to.

Mary had fallen, and fallen hard. Well, it was inevitable. She’d been so busy masterminding other peoples’ relationships that it was only a matter of time before she got around to masterminding her own. However, she didn’t really have a “relationship” with Alec. It had begun as a business arrangement, then transmuted into something she had no vocabulary for.

Lust factored into it, of course. It was hard to remain unmoved at the sight of Lord Alec Raeburn’s magnificent body. But there was more. She enjoyed his company, his conversation, his teasing.

She enjoyed his touch. Oops, she was back to lust again, she thought ruefully.

Alec shouldered into the oak door, ducking his head as he entered the narrow hall. He set the stacked trunks on the clean-swept flagstone and turned to her. “Well, what do you think?”

The house smelled of lemons and lavender. Bunches of the latter were dangling from rough beams overhead. The staircase was roped off, discouraging exploration of the upper floor.

“What’s up there?” Mary asked.

“A smallish bedroom with a lot of broken things, as far as I can gather. Mac and my brother stuck everything that wasn’t functional up there. There are two bedrooms on the ground floor, so you can have your privacy if you wish it.”

Mary had not thought of actually sleeping alongside Alec, although she had last night. She could decide about her accommodations later.

Really, it had been a long day and the sun was still over the mountains. The fire, the confessions, the intimacy—one of those alone should have her knackered to bits. Instead, she felt a surge of hope as Alec guided her around the little dwelling.

To the right of the staircase was the small kitchen, furnished with a simple wood table, two benches, and a sagging black range that had seen better days. Dented pots hung from hooks on the wall. Several baskets with foodstuffs and a blue bowl holding three apples were on the table.

“We’ll be roughing it. Do you cook?” Alec asked.

“A little.” But not really well enough to impress Alec or any man.

“We’ll take turns, then. I burn toast better than Escoffier ever dreamed. Let’s go into the parlor.”

They crossed the hall to the other side of the house. The parlor, too, was small, but someone had put flowers in a glass bottle on the bare mantel. There was a dusty-looking sofa, one chair, some odd tables, and a threadbare rug. This was a very far cry from the grandeur of Raeburn Court, but it was charming in its way. The windows sparkled and a wildly overgrown perennial garden, the source of the flowers, was visible through the wavy glass. A painted door next to the fireplace led to a bedroom, which in turn led to another bedroom. Both quilted counterpanes and linens were frosty white, and had obviously been imported from the main house.

“Home sweet home,” Alec said. “In all honesty I must point out the chamber pots under the beds. There is a privy in the back garden behind the kitchen. No one has lived here for at least a half a decade, so it shouldn’t be too bad. Mac tells me he removed the spiderwebs from the seat personally. Ready to run screaming, or settle in?”

“It’s adorable,” Mary said truthfully. “I half-expect to see Snow White and a dwarf or two pop up.”

“If the story is ‘Jack and the Beanstalk,’ I’m your giant. This isn’t quite how I planned your holiday. If we get word that Bauer has been taken care of, we can go back to the Court and listen to the hammers. Are you hungry? It must be past teatime by now.”

“Starved, actually.” Sex must act as a stimulant. The bread and cheese she’d had for lunch felt like eons ago.

Alec lit the old stove without too much difficulty, pumped some water into a copper kettle, and put it on to boil. Mary peeked into a basket—more bread and cheese, a tin of crumbled currant biscuits, a chunk of ham. She sliced and arranged while Alec dealt with the teapot.

The china on the shelf was mismatched but it made no difference. They sat at the table and ate.

“Mac will bring us more supplies. Being short-staffed means the larder up at the house is pretty bare.”

“This is fine,” Mary said. In fact, this reminded her of sitting up over the shop having tea with her parents when she was a little girl. Before her father’s success, there had been plenty of broken biscuits and old cans filled with something mysterious that hadn’t sold.

“I can make cheese toast later for supper.”

Mary smiled. “But you said you burned toast. This is enough for me, but please yourself.” A large man like Alec probably needed to eat frequently. Not that he was fat—he was simply solid everywhere.

“If you don’t mind cleaning up, I’d like to get something ready for you,” Alec said as he pushed himself away from the table.

Mary didn’t mind. Conjuring Alec with his sleeves rolled up over a dishpan was impossible. Barons didn’t wash up.

“Meet me in the back garden when you’re done. There’s still plenty of daylight left. I had thought originally we’d do it in the parlor, but I forgot how small it is.”

Do it? Do
what
? By tacit agreement Mary had supposed there would be further sexual adventures between them, but exactly what kind of acrobatics did Alec expect from her? The sitting room couch was obviously too short—and lumpy—to be of much use, and Mary didn’t fancy lying on the floor on the ancient rug, so she could see Alec’s objection about the parlor. What was wrong with either of the bedrooms?

She didn’t want to strip naked in the jungle of a garden! There must be bugs out there, and who knew what else? What if a shepherd or someone came upon them in their altogether, like an Adam and Eve who had strayed very far from Eden?

Although the Highlands were the closest Mary had ever come to heaven. Even the ramshackle gatehouse had its charms.

From the high window over the sink, Mary could see the top of Alec’s head go by as he stomped around outside in the walled garden, whistling. She dried her hands on a towel mid-scrub, climbed on a bench, and peered out. He had taken his jacket, waistcoat, and tie off, had a scythe in his hand and was sweeping through the overgrown lawn with a vengeance. Tasseled grass fell over his feet and flew into the empty raised beds of what must once have held vegetables. He had cleared a large uneven rectangle—trapezoid? She’d been better at algebra than geometry—twice the size of the sitting room already in just the short time she’d been putting away leftovers and washing tea cups. There was a large wooden box against the open stable door and something atop it wrapped in an old quilt. Fascinated, she watched him enter the shed, come out with a rusty rake, and bundle all the grass to one side.

Coupling with Alec outside in the fading light should have shocked her, but instead she felt a frisson of interest. If he intended to take her on the lawn, she could always lay that quilt down before she picked up chiggers. Her skin tended to be sensitive, and there was no point in fighting against nature. Nature always won.

Mary hopped down and dried the dishes, her heart racing just a bit. She had broken a great many rules today—what was one more? Her vow of honesty to Alec applied to herself—she wanted him, inside or outside. She’d gone from being a respectable spinster to a harlot in just a matter of days, but she suspected Alec Raeburn had that effect on women without even trying. Now that she knew the nature of his wounds beneath the gruff exterior, she was even more smitten.

But she couldn’t “fix” him with a frolic in the grass. It was only in novels that the love of a good woman worked magic by the last page. She had seen too much in her four years as Mrs. Evensong to expect Alec to shed his melancholy overnight. But Mary did have this night, and she meant to use it, perhaps not wisely but well.

Deciding to surprise—and shock—him, she kicked off her shoes, unhooked and unbuttoned herself down to her corset and shift, and pulled every pin from her hair. Mary would signal she was ready for anything he had in mind. Let him finish the job of undressing her.

No. Why waste precious time? Mary unlaced her corset, tore off her shift, and folded everything neatly on the kitchen table. Old habits died hard.

Taking a deep breath and tossing her hair back, she stepped out the kitchen door onto the cool, shorn grass. Alec’s mouth dropped open and the handkerchief he was using to wipe his brow fell unnoticed to the toe of his boot.

“I’m finished,” she said in a husky voice.

“Mother of God,” Alec croaked. He made no move to come near her.

Had she made a mistake? Misunderstood his desire? Maybe he wanted to have nothing else to do with her after this afternoon, despite bringing her here. Suddenly feeling way too brazen, she lurched toward the box and lifted the edge of the quilt. She could wrap herself in it and spare herself further humiliation. Obviously she had misread the situation, which wasn’t like her at all.

Her emotions were a jangled mess, and she felt her cheeks grow hot and the rest of her body freeze up. What had she been thinking? Clearly, she had not been thinking at all. But Alec had been so friendly over tea she had assumed his surprise was of a sexual nature. She tugged the quilt and the box pitched to one side.

“Careful!” Alec shouted, finally snapping out of his torpor. He raced over to her and took the material from her numb fingers. “There’s a phonograph under there. I had Mac bring it, and some wax cylinders, too. I was going to teach you how to waltz. But it seems you have other ideas, and I like yours much better.”

“Wh-what?”

Alec cloaked Mary in the quilt. It had definitely not been stored in a linen closet with lavender and she wasn’t sure eau de quilt was at all appealing. Glancing down, tufts of batting were sticking out where the stitches had disappeared. Tiny black specks lodged in the white cotton. Not bugs, but—

“You know. Dancing. One two three, one two three. You told me the other evening you had never been to a ball, and I thought—”

“Mice!” Mary shrieked, throwing the quilt at Alec and hopping up and down.

“Surely not,” Alec said, shaking the quilt with vigor.

“Not now, but they have been nesting in it. And defecating! Ugh!” She brushed imaginary mouse droppings off her goose-pimpled skin.

Alec looked genuinely stricken. “Oh, dear. I’m afraid that’s my fault. I grabbed the first thing at hand in the shed to cover up the phonograph so I could surprise you.”

“I’m surprised, all right,” Mary said, feeling foolish. And very naked.

“Do you want another bath? I’m sure I could fill up some buckets and heat them.”

Three baths in one day. Such luxury. But she had seen the tin hip bath in the kitchen corner and was not much impressed. Besides, she’d only worn the quilt a few seconds at most.

“I’m all right. Just my pride is bruised. You must think me very forward, t-taking off all my clothes.” May the earth open up and swallow her whole.

“I like you forward, Mary. And backward. Come here.”