Down the Rabbit Hole

The dawn sky outside the balcony was awash with ribbons of pink and gold and mauve. If she moved quickly she might still be able to repair the damage she’d caused by her embarrassing introduction. That awkward fall on the way to the lodge had ruined any hope of making a grand entrance. On the contrary, she’d made a complete fool of herself the previous evening. She’d not only barged in on a party, but had angered her host.

At least he’d been gracious enough to permit her to stay the night. But he’d been angry enough to let her know he felt he had no choice. No matter what arrangements had been made by the firm, she feared she would not be welcome to remain another day. She needed to meet with him as soon as possible and present the firm’s offer, before she lost her best, her only, chance to make a deal.

She touched a hand to her head, where a dull ache was a reminder of just how hard she’d fallen.

She shoved aside the bed linens and got to her feet.

She could find no light switch. What in the world . . . ? Could Colin Gordon be so determined to honor his family’s history that he’d refused to switch his hunting lodge over to electricity?

And where were her clothes? Apparently the housekeeper had taken them away to be cleaned. In their place lay a very old-fashioned costume. Some sort of gown of unbleached ivory wool, along with a soft chemise and knee-length drawers that appeared to be hand-embroidered with delicate rosebuds.

Was this intentional? Was she being informed that the masquerade party would last the entire weekend?

Feeling foolish, Beth washed herself in a basin of rose water she found on a nightstand and dressed in the costume the old woman had provided, then pulled on a pair of soft kid boots. She crossed to a mirror and couldn’t help laughing at the sight that greeted her. She looked like one of those characters in the fairy tales her grandmother had enjoyed reading to her. It was a far cry from the chic image she’d learned to project at work.

Without hairspray and pins, she wasn’t able to fasten her hair in its usual no-nonsense knot at the back of her head. Instead she was forced to run her fingers through it and let it fall long and loose to spill past her shoulders.

“All right, all you lords and ladies,” she said to her reflection in the mirror. “Two can play this game.”

She stepped out of her room.

A youth was lounging against the wall. At the sound of her door opening he straightened, while his hand went to the sword at his waist.

Beth tried to cover her surprise. “Good morning. I wasn’t expecting to see anyone up at this hour. And in full costume, too.”

The boy looked around rather wide-eyed before saying, “The laird’s belowstairs. He said I was to report to him as soon as ye showed yerself.”

“Fine. I’ll let you lead the way.”

Instead of walking in front of her, he waited until she reached the staircase before falling into step beside her, darting quick glances as they walked.

“And just where is the . . . laird?”

“In the library, m’lady.” As they reached the lower level he indicated a hallway, and Beth moved along at his side until they came to huge, intricately carved double doors.

The lad knocked and the voice from within called, “Come.”

“The lady is here, m’laird.” The youth stood aside, allowing Beth to precede him.

“Thank you, Jamie.” Colin Gordon appeared distracted, staring out a window and frowning.

In the dancing light from the fire on the hearth he was even more darkly handsome than he’d seemed the previous night. He wore the same length of plaid over some sort of full-sleeved, saffron shirt. His long hair was tied back with a narrow strip of hide.

His eyes reflected the firelight, gleaming like a cat’s as he turned to study Beth. He looked, she thought, exactly like a Highland warrior about to do battle. He was perfectly suited to play the role of lord of the manor.

“Shall I wait, m’laird?” Jamie stood just inside the door, his hand at his sword, shooting nervous glances at the young woman beside him.

“Nay. I’ll summon you when we’ve finished.”

When the door closed behind the lad, Colin Gordon watched in silence as Beth crossed the room to stand in front of him.

He was wearing the same frown he’d worn last night every time he looked at her. Still, with so many guests here, this may be the only time she would have his undivided attention. She seized the opportunity.

“Thank you for the clothes.”

“You may thank old Maura.”

“I will, when I see her. I’m sorry for that awkward scene last night.” She managed a smile, though her heart was racing. “I fell and hit my head on my way here, and I’m afraid it left me a bit muddled. But now, after a good night’s sleep, I’m feeling much better. I’d like to fill you in on the offer my firm is prepared to make.”

“Offer? Firm? I know not these words.”