In the Heart of the Highlander by Maggie Robinson Read Free Book Online Page B

Was he insulted about the reference to his rakish reputation? Angry at the mention of his dead wife?
    And then he laughed. She’d seen him do so once before, when she’d admonished him as they walked into the dining room. He’d stopped himself then, but now he sat, like a merry bear, roaring and snuffling until tears leaked from his dark brown eyes. He was completely overset, and Mary had a moment of panic. What if the man was unbalanced?
    What if he really had murdered his wife?
    Oliver handed him another brandy when he stopped for air, which he swallowed in its entirety. When he caught his breath, he winked at Mary, then turned to Aunt Mim. “I was told you were a miracle worker, but no one said how very blunt you are, Mrs. Evensong. You are absolutely correct. I will not be falling in love with Miss Arden or anyone else—I’m past all that nonsense, and no doubt Bauer knows that. So, fine. I shall play the great lecher to egg Bauer on. That is a role I know how to play, as you pointed out.”
    A role he’d been playing all through dinner, Mary thought. He had taken flirtation to greater heights—and depths. It had been all she could do to ignore his “accidental” touches and outré remarks.
    Mary Arden was supposed to be a naïve spinster, but Mary Evensong—spinster that she might be—was not really naïve anymore. Had she ever been? Wrapping up legs of lamb and dispensing bottles of Oxo had cured her of any romantic flights of fancy she had harbored as a schoolgirl. Treading between up and downstairs folks these past four years had nearly soured her on the human race altogether. Drunken footmen and dissipated dukes were two sides of the same coin. Most people did not know enough to get out of their own way, and it annoyed her that she was often hired to solve problems that were simply beneath her considerable skills.
    Not this time. Lord Raeburn’s difficulties would not be solved even when Dr. Bauer was exposed. What he needed was not hers to give.
    Mary couldn’t give him physical comfort. And anyway, he had enough of that sort of thing from his chorines. She was not at all in charity with the late Lady Edith Raeburn, who’d made him frustrated enough to betray his marriage vows, and now engage in this absurd game to avenge her death.
    One didn’t usually fall out of one’s own bedroom window. Had she been pushed?
    Or did she jump?
    Mary wouldn’t ask. She wasn’t quite as blunt as Aunt Mim.
    “Well, now that we have our stories straight, I propose to meet you after my examination tomorrow so you may begin to work your charm on me. Shall we have elevenses on the veranda?”
    “Tomorrow morning canna come soon enough.” Lord Raeburn stood, his color ruddy. “Please excuse my behavior this evening at dinner. I didna realize—”
    “That I’m a respectable woman? I took no real offense, my lord. In fact, it was good practice for me. Dr. Bauer’s blandishments can appear to go straight over my head. At least until Saturday.”
    “I have a feeling nothing much gets by you, Miss Arden. Goodnight, Mrs. Evensong. Oliver.”
    “Pleasant dreams,” Aunt Mim said, smiling up at him. Even after the sitting room door closed, her aunt was still smiling.
    “I like him.”
    Mary rolled her eyes. “You’ve only just met him, Aunt Mim.”
    “He doesn’t know that. Handsome devil. Tortured soul.”
    “I like him, too,” Oliver piped up.
    He would. Oliver had a fatal weakness for a handsome face. His wealthy father had tossed him out of his house when he discovered Oliver in the arms of the household’s dapper French chef. The French chef was still employed, for how could Mr. Palmer forego the man’s fabulous foie gras terrine? But Oliver, as the youngest of six sons, was entirely expendable.
    If he wasn’t careful, he’d wind up just like poor Mr. Wilde. Mary could not bear to see that happen; she had come to look on Oliver as a real younger brother. He certainly was much more amusing and loyal