Page 12 of Forever My Lass

Madeline found herself floundering in confusion again as Eileen gestured toward a chifforobe that stood next to the window. What trunk was the woman talking about? Everything she had brought with her on her trip was at the Chester Hotel, except for her purse, which she’d taken with her on the sailboat. It had her wallet, her passport, and her phone with the pictures she’d taken since arriving in Scotland. The phone, wallet, and credit cards she could replace. But her passport? Getting that replaced was bound to be a major headache. She could only hope there was an US Embassy in Aberdeen.

When Madeline didn’t move, the maid scurried toward the tall mahogany chest. Two seconds later, Eileen held up an undergarment that looked like the bustiers that had been in fashion off and on over the last few years. Madeline had always loved the look on others, but on her not so much. With large breasts, she always looked like she was going to pop out of the damn things.

“Me màthair said Lord Glenburnie’s wife ordered it from Paris when she was alive. God rest her soul. It’s a wee scandalous, but me màthair thinks it will fit ye.”

Madeline eyed the garment the maid was holding up in the air with misgivings. What the hell did she need a corset for, let alone a gown? Didn’t these people have an extra pair of jeans or t-shirt she could use until she got back to Aberdeen and her luggage? Madeline slowly stepped forward to take the corset from the maid. As she eyed the garment warily, Eileen tipped her head slightly with a look that said she found Madeline’s reaction extremely peculiar.

“Do ye need help to dress, miss?”

“No. No, thank you,” Madeline said as she stared down at the corset. “It hooks up the front, so I’ll figure it out.”

“If ye are sure, miss.”

“I’ll be fine.” Madeline forced a smile to her lips as she met Eileen’s uncertain gaze. After a second, the maid nodded slowly.

“All right, the bath is just down the hall, and I laid out towels for ye. The water will be hot, and a good soak will do ye good. And, ye need tae eat something.” Eileen’s voice was quiet but stern. As if realizing she’d spoken too sharply, the girl smiled. “Me màthair makes the best scones in the Mearns, miss. I know ye will enjoy them.”

The maid smiled and patted Madeline’s hand reassuringly, then left the room. Alone once more, Madeline looked down at the odd underwear and dress on the bed, before her gaze shifted back to the corset in her hand. Lord, she’d heard of people living the part, but these people seemed to take it to the extreme by expecting their guests to do the same. She snorted with amusement as she dropped the corset on the bed and made her way to the bathroom.

Madeline wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but the bathtub and sink were antiques. A short time later, reclined against the back of the tub, she reveled in the hot water. Eileen had been right about soaking in the tub. The hot water had loosened her muscles considerably, and she wasn’t feeling quite as stiff as when she’d woken up. As the water grew tepid, Madeline knew she would have to brave the cooler temperature of the bathroom. Better now than never.

Quickly scrambling out of the tub, she rubbed off as much water as she could with one of the thin towels Eileen had laid out for her. Shivering, she quickly threw the nightgown over her shoulders, grumbling as she shoved her arms through the sleeves. The linen material clung to her still wet skin, making it difficult to straighten. She uttered a noise of frustration. What she wouldn’t give right now for a t-shirt and a pair of pajama bottoms.

The warmth of the bathroom disappeared as she opened the door leading into the hall. Immediately, the cold air of the corridor skimmed over her skin despite the nightgown’s long sleeves. The change in temperature made her draw in a sharp breath before she hurried toward her room.

Still towel drying her hair as she moved down the hallway, she suddenly slammed into an immovable object. A small cry escaped her as Madeline stumbled over her feet, and two large hands caught her by the arms to hold her upright. Tugging the towel off her head, she found herself staring at a wide chest and broad shoulders in a dark brown jacket.

Her brain registered a brown pouch and dark green kilt with muted stripes as her gaze dropped downward. She’d always enjoyed muscular arms and legs on a man, and while his jacket hid his arms, this guy’s legs were sexy as hell. A soft sound rumbled in his chest, and Madeline jerked her head up to meet a piercing blue-eyed gaze that sent her heart pounding hard in her chest.

Good Lord, the man was tall. She wasn’t short by any means, but this man was at least six-five if not taller. He seemed to tower over her. It made her feel small and, oddly enough, quite feminine. The man wasn’t what she would call handsome, but his features were masculine and rugged in a way that would make it impossible for anyone to ignore him whenever he entered a room.

His hair was as dark as coal, with a slight sheen that made her want to run her fingers through it to see if it was as soft as it looked. But it was his dark blue eyes that sent a rush of heat skimming across her skin. As the heat dissipated, a tingling sensation took its place until every nerve ending in her body hummed with awareness. It took a lot to intimidate her, but this guy unsettled her in a way that made her stomach tighten and skin tingle. He had sexy bad boy written all over him. Just the kind of guy she avoided at all costs. Men like this were trouble.

Martin had been almost as hot as this guy, and she’d fallen hard for her ex-fiancé. Mocking laughter flitted through her head. Martin had never made every nerve ending in her body tingle with awareness like this man did. This guy oozed sex appeal. If his voice was anywhere near as hot as his body, she was certain he could make any woman dance to whatever tune he wanted to play.

She swallowed hard at the thought. Heat suffused her skin again as she saw his gaze slide down over her body with an expression of sinful appreciation. It was just the right amount of smoldering assessment that would make a woman melt in his arms. Who was she kidding? She was already melting, and he’d not even opened his mouth.

Afraid she’d failed to put the nightgown on correctly, she followed the path of his gaze downward. Embarrassment rolled through her as she realized the gown had absorbed a great deal more water than she’d thought. The linen clung to her chest, highlighting her stiff nipples as they pressed outward against the material. In the back of her mind, a voice debated whether they were hard from the chilly air or her reaction to the man.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Madeline jerked her towel upward and pressed it to her chest as she met his gaze again. Blue eyes narrowing, his firm mouth twisted slightly in what might have been either amusement or disapproval. She wasn’t sure which, and his eyes were unreadable. Without saying a word, he simply stepped aside and swept his hand out in front of him in a silent command for her to continue along her way.

Madeline hesitated for a moment, then like a scared rabbit, hurried past him. Behind her, a quiet sound escaped him that might have been laughter. She was too embarrassed to glance over her shoulder and find out. When she reached the safety of her room, Madeline stood with her back pressed against the door with her eyes closed.

Other than her father, Eileen hadn’t mentioned any other men being in the house. That left one of two possibilities. Either the man she’d just run into was Eileen’s father or Lord Glenburnie. Eileen had to be at least twenty, and the man she’d just ran into was too young to be the maid’s father. So that left Lord Glenburnie.

Now she understood Eileen’s reaction as she’d explained how the master of the house had rescued Madeline. The maid had sighed with good reason. The man was unbelievably hot. A vague memory pushed its way forward as she recalled an outstretched arm and a deep voice commanding her to take his hand. If she was right in thinking the man she’d just met was the same one who’d saved her from drowning, she didn’t believe for a minute he was afraid of anything, let alone water.

Embarrassment slid through her again, and her cheeks grew hot as she recalled the way his gaze had swept over her. It had been a leisurely appraisal, and he’d taken his time to study her from top to bottom. Thank God the man hadn’t said a word. If his voice was even half as devastating as the rest of him, it wasn’t too much of a leap to think he was one of those men who could seduce a woman with a smile and a few words whispered in her ear, especially in a Scottish brogue.

“Enough, Madeline,” she muttered with disgust. “You didn’t come to Scotland for any one-night stands, and you are definitely not interested in a guy who doesn’t look like commitment material. Not by a long shot. Not to mention he’s Scottish and you’re a Yank.”

With a shake of her head, she pushed herself away from the door and crossed the floor to the bed. She dubiously studied the underwear Eileen had left her. Still rattled by everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, it took Madeline almost an hour to dress. If she’d had her own clothes, she would have been ready in minutes.

The frilly laced legs of the drawers had been easy to figure out, but she didn’t know whether the camisole went under or over the corset. She opted for under. The corset had been a bit cumbersome, but the fact that it hooked up in the front made it easy to put on. The dress had been the most difficult, with all its buttons running down the back.

By the time she was ready to put on the shoes Eileen had set out on the floor, Madeline was in a stage of revolt. She held the shoes up in the air to study them with antipathy. They buttoned up the side and looked extremely uncomfortable. Madeline shook her head. No. Just no. She’d just have to go barefoot until she returned to Aberdeen. When she finished dressing, she appraised herself in the mirror. Other than for her short hair and her bare feet hidden under the floor-length dress, she looked as if she’d stepped out of the past.

Satisfied with her appearance, she was about to leave her room when the mirror reflected something fluttering in the air outside her window. Crossing the floor, she peered out the windowpane searching for whatever she’d seen in the mirror. Today, the sea looked nothing like it had yesterday. Although it was windy, there wasn’t a dark cloud in the sky. The wind danced across the North Sea’s surface, creating small whitecaps that rolled toward the shore. The flutter of movement caught her attention once more.