Page 28 of Highlander’s Dangerous Gambler

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It did not matter that she was in her stays. Aileen reached the top of the stairs, trembling and in pain. She was almost in tears. And the breeze that wrapped around the drafty vestibule told her instantly where she was.

Once again, Aileen came to with the unpleasant sensation of being half-dressed in public. Glancing about the cool corridor, she felt like a sleepwalker just woken up. The fact was, she had been here over a day and still had no robes to wear, something she was only just beginning to feel was not accidental.

The laird had made no bones about it. He did not want her to leave unless it was to announce her marriage—to a man she had never met!

There was so much swirling around Aileen Duncan's young head that she needed to come up for air. But Scott's whirlwind betrayal was the thing that hurt most of all.

She had turned to him for help, but he had spurned her, fixed her with his bright blue eyes, and informed her he would do what McLeod said. Told her he would leave her high and dry.

By the time Aileen reached the bottom of the corridor, her eyes were misty with tears. She was a prisoner here, by any other name.

Shaking and trembling, she wandered the corridor, unsure of what to do. There was no way she could go outside like this. Apart from anything, she could barely walk yet. She was cold and shamed. Humiliation overwhelmed her. McLeod had her cornered like a spider in its web. But it was not really McLeod that upset her. It was Scott. He had just stood by and watched.

Fury kept Aileen warm as she staggered back to her bedchamber. She only just made it. Panting, she collapsed onto the bed.

Scott's scent still hung in the air.

He had just left her. Disappointment crushed her like a vice.

Aileen lay on the bed, her heart bursting. The temptation to simply lay there sobbing overwhelmed her for a moment, but it did not last long. After a minute, Aileen pulled herself together, dragging herself upright and dabbing her face.

She could not carry on like this. She needed to get clean and rested. In order to get out of here, she had to be strong. Pushing herself from the bed, Aileen looked around to find a small-looking glass perched in the corner of the room. Picking up the ornately edged glass, Aileen nervously peered in. A wan, startled lass with unruly hair stared back at her. She looked a fright!

Working to make good her appearance, Aileen started with her hair, salvaging a comb found on the side of the bed to straighten it out. Bit by bit, she worked, taming her savage locks until they were lustrous and shiny.

Next, she looked at her face. It was streaked from crying. Finding the bowl on the dresser, she set to work. Before long, her face was smooth and clear.

Feeling slightly better, Aileen smiled at her reflection before rubbing her sore ribs and staring at her semi-clad form.

She still had no clothes. Wondering where the maid had gone, she began digging about the bedchamber for something—anything—to wear. Reaching into the chest, positioned against the back of the room, Aileen struck gold.

Almost immediately, she had plucked out a fine robe of chiffon and silks. Lifting it up, Aileen could not resist swirling it around gaily. Then she yelped, hard. Sometimes she forgot that she was still injured.

But the dress was perfect. Shaded dark blues and greens, it was edged with the McLeod colors, but other than that, it looked as if it could have been made for her.

For a moment or two, Aileen hesitated. Should she take the dress? Looking around cautiously, Aileen waited briefly for a maid to appear in order to ask. But no one came.

That was that. She had waited long enough! Taking the dress, she swiftly began trying it on. It took time. With no maid to dress her, getting the frock on was time-consuming. But that was no matter; it was not like she had anything better to do.

It took time, especially when it was so hard for her to move properly. But the end results were pleasing, and Aileen could not help but give herself a cheery wee spin, this time softly, as her ribs were tender and sore.

But her pleasure was short-lived, as she remembered she had a long wait before she could wear it outdoors. Even making it down the stairs had been a tour de force. And that was with Scott helping her!

Thinking of Scott brought Aileen up sharp. Straining her eyes across to the little window, she saw him sitting astride his big horse.

Prickly thoughts ruminated through her. She did not know how she felt about this man. Undoubtedly, he put a knot in her stomach every time he looked at her. But then there was the fact that he worked for Laird McLeod, something he had made pretty clear.

Standing there, watching him, Aileen grew unsure. He had been so kind, so gentle with her. The way he had looked after her, bringing her back to the McLeod estate. But then she had to stop and question herself.

For whose benefit had this been? So far, it seemed Laird McLeod had done awfully well out of it. She was prevented from getting home, and it looked like the laird's son had bagged himself a surprise bride.

Drawing her brow together, Aileen frowned. If she didn't know better, she would begin to think this had been the laird's plan from day one. Aileen mused. Perhaps even Scott had been in on it. But then she turned her head.

Of course, that was mad. There was no way any of this could have been preplanned. But it had been awfully fortuitous for them.

She watched as Scott trotted off out of the estate gates, on some mission unknown. As he went, she tried to work out how she felt about him.