CHAPTER 3
“Ye’re looking better than I’m feeling.”
At Lysander’s words, Max scrambled for a towel, but none was in reach of the bathtub. “Don’t you know how to knock?” he growled, instead cupping his hands in front of himself under the water.
“I did,” Lysander declared cheerfully, as he plopped down on one of the benches in the bathing chamber and eyed Max in the tub. “Was yer head underwater?”
“Possibly.” Max had to admit that having a separate chamber for bathing—with real, hot running water—was a major improvement over his room at the inn. No wonder he’d agreed to spend the night at Dumpkins before heading back there.
Hemight’vespent some time submerged, just for the fun of it. “What do you want?”
“Tsk-tsk. That’s no’ verra welcoming.”
“I’m lying here in rapidly cooling water, holding my own genitalia. How do you expect me to act?”
Lysander made a show of leaning forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, and craning his head sideways, as if trying to catch a glimpse under the bubbles. “I suppose ye’d rather someone else hold yer—what did ye call yer bollocks? Och, aye—yergenitalia.”
Max glared. “You’re not offering, I hope?”
Chuckling, Lysander smacked the side of the tub, then sucked in a breath and cupped his forehead. “Ow.”
“Headache?” It was still early enough in the day, was it possible Lysander had overindulged the night before?
“Too much brandy. It doesnae sit as smoothly in my stomach as good Highland whisky, aye?”
Max had to agree with that. “I know what you mean. I had a bit too much myself.”
“I ken it. That’s why ye stuck around last night, remember?” Smirking, Lysander stretched his feet out in front of him. “Ye sure we cannae talk ye into staying for the rest of the house party? Dumpkins is even nicer than Newfincy, and much finer than yer inn.”
Allowing himself to relax a bit, Max rested his head against the edge of the tub, but didn’t un-cup his hands, just in case Lysandercouldsee through the bubbles. “I’ll admit you Scots know how to live life. Now don’t get me wrong, we’ve got some nice bathing chambers back in America—I’m sure your cousin Andrew Prince can afford one—but I’ve just never experienced it, and I’m glad I accepted the opportunity to enjoy it.”
“Ye mean ye were just too drunk to make it back to the inn last night, so ye gave into my nagging.”
“Possibly.” When Max shrugged, a bit of the water spilled over the side of the tub, and he resisted the urge to wince.
Here in the Highlands, he was allowed to make messes—and demands—without feeling guilty.
Lysander rolled his shoulders with a groan. Then, straightening, he arched his back, as if stretching out the discomfort. “Ye mean that the Oliphant Inn doesnae have hot running water?”
“Some of the suites do, and the ones that don’t have pretty serving girls to fetch it.” Max winked, thinking of the serving lass he’d run into—literally—yesterday afternoon.
But heshouldbe thinking of the mysterious lady he danced with at the ball, shouldn’t he? The intriguing lady with the even more intriguing shoes…
“Damn.” Lysander slumped. “I suppose that means ye’ll want to stick around here to enjoy the tubs, eh?” To Max’s surprise, his brother didn’t look happy about that idea, even though it had been him who’d been constantly bugging him to do that very thing. “I need an excuse to visit ye at the inn.”
“Really?” Max’s brows shot up. He hadn’t spent all that much time at the Oliphant Inn in the last few weeks, only returning there to sleep. And Lysander had only visited him a few times, like yesterday, when he’d come to fetch Max. “Why?”
His brother seemed hesitant to answer at first. “Did ye see the pink angel I danced with last night? The one with the fancy shoes?”
The mention of shoes drew Max’s attention to the dressing table across the room, and the object nestled in the top drawer. But he merely said, “I remember seeing the two of you together.”
“Aye, well, she didnae tell me her name, but I want to see her again. She told me I could find her at the inn.”
Max frowned. The woman Lysander had danced with had worn her blonde hair up in a fancy style, and there wasn’t much else to use to identify her. “You think visiting the inn will allow you to find her?”
“Maybe she’s a guest?” Lysander shrugged.
“The inn proprietress, Lady Machara Oliphant, has two daughters. The older of the two has lighter hair. She’s attended the house party events—you haven’t met her before?”
