What Happens in Scotland Read Online Free PDF Page B

had cut her feet on the shards of glass upon waking. Somehow, the thought did not please him as much as it should.
    He peered up at the bit of clothing that had caught his attention. The corset he had spied earlier hung from the drapery rod like a demented flag. Up close he could see the fine stitching and silk ribbons that lined the edges. The edge of an ivory busk peeked out of the center pocket, tempting him with a hint of engraving. He lifted the entire garment from its mooring, tucked it under one arm, and headed for the door.
    William’s voice tickled his ear. “I don’t think it’s your size, Jamie-boy, which leaves me to wonder what you want with that bit of frippery. Memento of the evening you have forgotten? A spoil of war, perhaps?”
    “It is a clue.” James stepped gingerly into the hallway and peered down the dank, musty stairwell.
    William’s chuckle pierced the shadows that swept in from all sides. “Ah, like Cinderella’s slipper.”
    James shook his head, which turned out to be a poor idea. The world spun on a broken axis, and he cursed beneath his breath. He hated feeling weak, out of control. It reminded him of how he had felt as a young man, striking out at and hating everyone and everything. He had worked too hard to overcome that feeling, just to sink back into it after one drunken night.
    He focused on feeling his way along the sticky wall until the banister fit into his hand. “No, not like Cinderella. She didn’t attack the prince the day after the ball. When I find the owner of this corset, I will find the woman who assaulted me.” He turned his head back to his brother and offered a grim promise. “And then I will know who to prosecute.”
    “Oh, aye, that’s rich.” William laughed. “Let the town know you can’t handle one wee lass in your bed.” A thick black brow rose in amusement. “And how are you going to find this woman? Are you going to strap the bloody thing on every girl you see until you find the one that fits? Do you need me to hold each one down while you try it on for size?”
    James turned away from his brother’s taunts, concentrating instead on putting one unsteady foot in front of the other. He knew the value of a good clue. The busk alone was a promising lead. Perhaps it bore an inscription or etching that might hint at the owner’s identity. He imagined his bed partner tripping this way only a few hours earlier without her corset. He wondered if she, at least, had a headful of memories to warm her nights for her trouble. It didn’t seem fair that he should be left with so little of her, just the feminine garment beneath his arm and the smell of her skin on his shirt.
    He reminded himself she had hit him. With a chamber pot. If that wasn’t a statement of some sort, he was a donkey’s arse.
    He focused on feeling his way to the inn’s front desk. No matter what happened last night, he did not deserve to be assaulted. If history was any guide, she had been an all too willing partner, and he would have done his best to make it memorable for her. But this business about being married, or pretending to . . . it didn’t sit well with him. He was a man of the law, dependent on a certain trust among Moraig’s citizens for his practice. If he had demonstrated some culpability, or been seen exercising such questionable judgment last night . . . well, it needed to be sorted out, and quickly.
    The inn’s proprietor stopped them on the threshold to the street. “Ah, Mr. MacKenzie.” The man’s smile did not reach his eyes. “You weren’t trying to sneak out again without covering your damages, were you?”
    James breathed out through his nose. “Damages?”
    “Oh, aye. You had quite a time in the public room last night, just before you snuck out the first time. Never say you don’t recall.”
    James met William’s gaze over the little man’s balding pate. William shook his head and lifted a finger to his lips.
    Every fiber of James’s being told