In the Heart of the Highlander (3 page)

Chapter

3

A
unt Mim put her foot up on a tufted hassock. “The view is tolerable.”

“For heaven’s sake, it’s more than that. This must be the most gorgeous spot in the world.” Mary opened the window and took a deep breath. She felt like she were tasting sunshine. What a change from the grubby streets of London. She could see mountains, woods, and water for miles in all directions in Aunt Mim’s tower room. The spacious two-bedroom suite down the hall that she and Oliver were sharing paled in comparison.

“I can’t but think I should not have come,” Aunt Mim said. “Are you sure Miss Benson is competent to run the agency in my absence?”

Mary knew Aunt Mim thought she was barely qualified herself, even after four years of intervention and intrigue. Just recently she’d made her most satisfactory match yet, a marriage between the banking heiress Louisa Stratton and war hero Charles Cooper. She’d received a breezy letter from Louisa in New York a few weeks ago, and a handsome dividend from the Pegasus Motor Company in the same post, which had gone a long way to provide her with a suitable wardrobe for her current situation.

“We’ve gone over this a thousand times. This trip will do you good. No matter how wretched Dr. Bauer is, his treatments have proven very efficacious in many patients. And Harriet is a whiz at everything. Remember, you hired her, even before you fetched me down to London. If anything unusual occurs, she’ll send a wire.”

“Maybe Oliver should have stayed behind.”

My, but her aunt was stubborn. “Nonsense. He’s very good in social situations and enormous fun.” Oliver had begged and begged to come once she’d confided in him, and Mary could not deny him a working holiday.

“But this doctor fellow might view him as an obstacle.”

“Not he. Oliver will act as the aggrieved brother, saddled with a sickly sister and cranky aunt and bored to death with both of them. We plan to fight in public every chance we get. He’ll be off playing golf and flirting with—” Here Mary paused. Who exactly would Oliver be flirting with? “—the other guests and will leave me to my own resources. There I’ll be, wistful and alone, just ripe for the plucking.”

“What about me? I’m supposed to be your guardian, am I not?”

“I’m much too old for you to be a real dragon. There’s no hope for me. Almost thirty, remember, and firmly on the shelf. Besides, you’re meant to be so self-absorbed with your own condition that you pay no attention to me. Just think, Aunt Mim, you can be as haughty as your old duchess and twice as rude. What fun you’ll have scaring everyone! I declare, I am jealous.” Mary thought her aunt would enjoy herself enormously getting out from being prim and proper Mrs. Evensong. Mim Arden would have much more leeway—as would she.

Mary Arden had a trunkful of fashionable dresses and all her own shining hair pinned up in the latest style. She wasn’t saddled with wigs and gloves and crow-black clothes. She had hired enough people to pose as someone else for whatever reason her clients had, and now it was her turn. Truth to tell, Mary had a batch of gleeful butterflies struggling against the lacings of her long corset. She couldn’t wait to begin to seduce—

Dr. Bauer
.

“Where is Oliver anyhow?”

“Seeing about getting you a pushchair. Now, don’t say no. You’ll want to get around, spread a little gossip. We are depending upon you.”

Aunt Mim made a face but said nothing. Privately, Mary was sure her aunt was excited about the whole escapade. It had been a long time since she’d been at the heart of an adventure.

“Hamblen will get you settled. I hope you don’t mind that you’re having dinner in your room tonight instead of at the communal tables. I don’t want you so worn out from the trip to be tired when the curtain raises tomorrow.”

“I suppose you’re right. It has been a long day and my foot is on fire.” Aunt Mim rarely complained. The trip north had been taxing to them all. But now they had a week ahead with every luxury.

The Forsyth Palace Hotel was famous for “mixing” its guests. No small private tables were to be found in the formal dining room. Rather, four long tables spread the length of the room and the guests filled in at random. Keeping the same seats night after night was frowned upon. Mothers brought their young daughters here to sharpen their conversational skills, and Mary was determined to make sure none of them fell victim to Dr. Bauer.

She gave her aunt a kiss on the cheek and hurried to her own room to ready herself for dinner. It had been years since she’d fussed over her own appearance, other than to bury herself in unattractive black to make herself less attractive. A very young Mary Evensong once had hopes of romance, but the deaths of her parents had curtailed those dreams. Her brother, Albert, had inherited their grocery store and put Mary to work after pulling her from Miss Ambrose’s Academy for Young Ladies, not only there but at home, too, to mind his boys while he and his wife, Phyllis, expanded the shop. There were now three stores and five boys, and Mary knew she was better off in London even if she did have to disguise herself daily.

This sojourn in Scotland was her chance to shine—if ever so briefly—and she intended to make the most of it. Their maid Hamblen had already unpacked her things while she was talking to Aunt Mim, and Mary opened the wardrobe, admiring the snow-white shirtwaists and a mini-rainbow of evening dresses. Four hatboxes were stacked on the shelf, only one of them containing a black hat in case of emergency. Mary allowed herself a spin of delight, and then proceeded to make her first difficult decision—which silk faille dress should she wear this evening?

She might see Lord Raeburn again. This time, she might even be able to speak to him when they met. It had unnerved her to see him popping around a pillar in the lobby when they’d first arrived—it was not as though a Corinthian column could hide his bulk. He was not wearing his plaid this afternoon, but a well-cut Norfolk jacket and jodhpurs, a checkered cap upon his unruly raven hair. Though she pretended not to see him, his face was tanned from his time back in the mountains and his eyes were dark with distrust as Dr. Bauer gave his welcome speech. It had been difficult for Mary to concentrate with him lurking about—she’d have to tell him to keep a much lower profile, or the game would be up.

Of course, Alec Raeburn wouldn’t know that they’d spoken before. He thought she was a strange woman hired to entrap Dr. Bauer.

Mary unfastened her blue traveling costume and stood before the mirrored doors of the wardrobe in her combination, s-corset and frillies. It was warm for a June day in Scotland and as she’d traveled most of it, she turned on the hot water tap and sponged herself, removing the layer of rice powder she’d applied to make herself look interestingly pale. It seemed a shame to start all over again with her powder puff, but she was slated to be “delicate.” Mary gave an experimental wheeze and hoped when she had her private appointment with Dr. Bauer tomorrow she would pass muster as an invalid.

But being sickly did not mean she had to dress in rags. As arranged, Hamblen returned to lace her even tighter and help her with the pale peach dress she’d chosen. Rows of ruffles emphasized her bosom, and a jeweled cameo was placed in a strategic location to call attention to what the ruffles didn’t. The pin was Mary’s only true extravagance. There would be flashier jewels on display at the hotel, but between Oliver and Aunt Mim, she would be described as an heiress to entice Dr. Bauer.

It had been decided that the manufactured Ardens had made their money in wool. Oliver could draw from his knowledge of his family’s own business, just in case anyone was too nosy and rude enough to ask. The Boer Wars had made his parvenu father unbearably rich, although wool was entirely unsuited for army uniforms on the hot plains of South Africa.

Mary adjusted a copper curl at her temple. “What do you think, Hamblen?”

“You look lovely, Miss Mary. Just as you should. But I think I can do more with your coiffeur.”

Mary sat on the dressing table bench. “It makes for quite a change from my usual attire, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t see why your aunt makes you dress the way you do. ’Tisn’t fair for a young woman. Four years of it. It wouldn’t harm the agency if the truth was known after all you’ve done on your own.”

Mary shook her head. “I’m not so sure. People trust Mrs. Evensong because of her years of experience. Four years isn’t much. It’s hard for a woman to be taken seriously.”

The young maid sniffed. “You wouldn’t think that way if you’d met my mam. Her word is
law
.”

It was different in the lower classes—women were expected both to work and run their households. But the female guests at the Forsyth Palace Hotel were probably incapable of boiling water. They couldn’t even dress—or undress—themselves in their seven layers of undergarments without assistance. Their men preferred them helpless, bound by corset strings and conventions. It was a very odd world, and Mary Evensong was expected to keep her balance and her place in it.

Oliver knocked on the connecting door, and entered before Mary had a chance to invite him in, just as an annoying younger brother might. He was in immaculate evening dress, his burnished head glistening with macassar oil. He really was much too pretty, and Mary told him so.

“You’re not so bad yourself, sis.” Oliver draped himself on the arm of a chair and fiddled with his watch fobs. “I’m not sure I can get used to my boss looking like a
woman
.”

Mary opened a drawer and tucked an extra handkerchief in her petit point bag. “Don’t worry. It’s only for a week. Then we’ll go back to business as usual.”

“I don’t know how I didn’t guess. Your old-lady act has had me fooled for over a year.”

“You and everyone else, I hope. Oliver, I must count on your discretion once this is all over. The Evensong Agency is a thriving concern, and any rumor about Mary Evensong is bound to affect business.” She trusted Oliver, but he did love his gossip.

“I know which side my bread is buttered on, Mary. Lord, it sounds odd to call you by your Christian name. There are two of you, one up, one down. It defies belief. No wonder you wouldn’t invite me to tea.”

She shrugged. “You’ve met my aunt now. After the journey, you already know how headstrong she is. This secret is important to her. To the business. Until she can come downstairs and take her rightful place, I’ll continue the masquerade.”

“Seems a damn shame. You clean up rather nicely.” Oliver gave her a cheeky grin.

“Thank you so much,” Mary said dryly. “Now, no more compliments, little brother. You are peevish that you are stuck in Scotland with two female relatives when you could be enjoying the tail end of the London season or going to the country to shoot something. Complain long and loudly to anyone who will stand still long enough to listen.”

“It shall be my pleasure to be a perfect boor. This place really is amazing, isn’t it?”

“It certainly has every amenity.”

Oliver gave her a knowing look. “Plus your Lord Raeburn. You saw his handsome wooly face in the lobby when we arrived, didn’t you?”

So, he remembered how nervous she’d been the day Raeburn came into the office. Well, she wasn’t an old lady and the baron was attractive enough to cause heart palpitations even if she was.

“He is not ‘my’ Lord Raeburn, just a client to whom we owe a fiduciary responsibility. So, let’s get to it.” She turned her head to the mirror, quite liking what she saw. “I think you’ve done about all you can do, Hamblen. Please keep an eye on Aunt Mim and make sure she takes her tonic after supper.”

Mary and Oliver descended by way of the wide central staircase, as the lifts were full of guests on their way down to dinner. Quite a crowd had gathered on the plush couches and chairs in the lobby, waiting for the dining room doors to open. After a quick glance, Mary was satisfied she was younger than the average woman present, which boded well for their scheme. The hotel did not seem to be quite full at the moment, so Dr. Bauer would have fewer women to choose from. She coughed gently and Oliver drew his arm away.

“As we have no assigned seats, you won’t mind if I find someone more interesting to sit with, do you, Mary? I’ve had enough of your sniffles and snorts,” he said in a loud voice.

Mary fished out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. “Oh, Oliver, how cruel you are!”

“You’ll be perfectly safe. You’re old as the hills. Who’ll look twice at you?”

“I will.”

Both Oliver and Mary startled at being interrupted in their scene. They turned to see Lord Raeburn in all his evening finery, a wicked twinkle in his dark eye.

“Bugger off, then. I’ll take the lady in to dinner.” He took Mary’s suddenly clammy hand into his. She hoped the perspiration wouldn’t seep into her gloves. “I am Raeburn. Forgive my impertinence, but I hate to see a lovely lady such as yourself abused. I presume that young pup is your brother and not your husband?”

“Y-yes,” Mary stuttered. Sitting with Lord Raeburn had not been part of her plan.

“Little brothers are damned worthless. I’ve got two myself, and they give me a devil of a headache. Come, Miss—?”