Page 20 of Forever My Lass

“You survived a traumatic experience, it’s to be expected.”

The moment he retreated, Madeline wanted to pull him back. She didn’t understand why, but she wanted to cling to him. This man’s bravery in pulling her from the sea and his silent consolation just now made all the men in her past seem small and insignificant.

“I’m beginning to sound like a parrot.” Madeline winced. “But I need to say I’m sorry again.”

“There is no need to apologize for being frightened. I know what it is to face death and survive.” Dark emotions crossed his face in quick succession before his features became unreadable. “Unfortunately, you will most likely experience more moments like this in the future, but as time passes, they will become less frightening.”

“I know that from my training, I’ve just never experienced something like this before,” Madeline mused softly with a nod.

A frown of puzzlement on his rugged features, he’d just parted his lips to say something when an older woman rapped her knuckles on the open door of Madeline’s room. There was a look of disapproval on her face as she met the baron’s gaze.

“Eileen’s busy in the kitchen, and I’ve come for Miss Whitworth’s tray, my lord.”

“Thank you, Bridget.”

Iain stepped back to let the woman retrieve the tray he’d placed on the floor before consoling Madeline. The woman’s expression was dark with condemnation as she moved forward and picked up the tray of half-eaten food. Eyeing Madeline with more than a hint of censure, the older woman turned to face her employer.

“Ye supper will nae doubt grow colder if ye dinnae go down now, my lord,” she said sternly as she looked at her employer and bobbed her head toward the door.

Iain arched his eyebrow with an arrogance that said he tolerated the woman’s abrupt statement only because he chose to. When Mrs. McFadyen's expression didn’t change, he turned and caught Madeline’s hand in his. She inhaled a sharp breath of surprise as he bowed over her hand to brush his mouth across the tips of her fingers.

“If you require anything, simply pull the cord to ring for Eileen or her mother, Mrs. McFayden, here. They’ll come check on you.” Iain nodded toward the narrow panel of material with its fringed tassel that hung next to her bed. “Tomorrow, we shall discuss how to send you home.”

The words sent a small shudder through her. It was highly doubtful Iain would be able to send her back to present day. As much as she wanted to return home, she had a feeling she wouldn’t be leaving the past any time soon—if ever. The thought made her grimace slightly, and he eyed her with curiosity. Madeline forced a small smile to her lips as she nodded her head.

“Thank you,” she replied quietly, unwilling to say anything more as she glanced in Bridget McFayden’s direction.

The woman was hovering nearby with a scowl of disapproval on her features. Almost like a mother hen protecting a chick, Mrs. McFayden looked pointedly at the door as Iain nodded at the woman with a slight twist of his lips. The man was clearly amused by the woman’s fierce manner.

Without commenting, he gestured toward the door and allowed Mrs. McFayden to precede him. As he pulled the door shut behind him, Iain looked over his shoulder to meet Madeline’s gaze. His expression revealed nothing, but something in his eyes sent her heart skidding out of control.

The soft thud of the door closing behind the baron made Madeline release the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. What the hell was going on? It would be easy to tell herself that she was experiencing some kind of wild and crazy hallucination. But she knew better. Wherever she was, it wasn’t a reality television show, and it definitely wasn’t one of those historical immersion vacation deals. As difficult as it was to believe, there was only one conclusion she could come to. Somehow, she’d landed in the lap of Baron Glenburnie in the year 1896.

So, exactly how was she supposed to explain how she got here? Telling the truth would land her in a psych ward faster than confessing to murder. Lying was a dangerous path to follow. It would be too easy to forget something, not to mention Iain’s reaction when she’d argued with him about the Destiny’s Dream. While she hadn’t appreciated being called a liar, she understood why he would challenge her.

As Madeline remembered his reaction, she recalled the note of panic and worry underlying the fury in his voice. Iain was more than just a little familiar with the Destiny’s Dream in this era. Was he the owner of the vessel? Maybe he knew someone who was a passenger on board the ship? It could be carrying cargo he owned.

Whatever his connection to the Destiny’s Dream in this time period, she’d definitely thrown him for a loop by not backing down about Captain Mury. And she was certain Iain Fraser, Baron of Glenburnie, was not a man who ever let much of anything phase him. He was far too confident.

Well, maybe not that confident. It was unlikely the man would just brush aside her assertion she was from the future. That would definitely throw him off kilter. No, he’d just look at her like she was a crazy person, and call someone to take her away. She winced at the thought and pinched the bridge of her nose. What was she going to do? A faint voice echoed in the back of her mind. Nothing. There wasn’t anything she could do. Not exactly a comforting thought.

Another whisper echoed in her head, only this one was insidious and garbled. An icy sensation of fear skated down her spine, but it was quickly silenced by a scoffing laugh. Madeline shivered as she remembered how strong her recollection of the shipwreck had been moments ago. It had actually felt as if she were reliving the wave overturning Destiny’s Dream and tossing her into the icy water of the North Sea.

Close on the heels of that frightening memory had been the sense of security that had enveloped her as Iain had wrapped his arm around her in an obvious attempt to comfort and reassure her. The memory of mesmerizing blue eyes and a voice as smooth, yet fiery, as cognac caused her mouth to go dry.

When it came to men like Iain Fraser, she’d always given them a wide berth. They were always the ones who could take you to the heights of heaven, and the moment they left, you were dropped into the depths of hell. She’d learned that with Martin, even though she’d been the one to break off their engagement.

When she’d given Martin his ring back, he’d been upset. What she hadn’t realized, was his reaction hadn’t been because he loved her. It was because she’d struck a blow to his ego. A fact that had been driven home when he’d started dating less than a month after their breakup.

Madeline had no idea why she’d been so surprised and hurt at Martin’s quick recovery. She should have expected it. At the time, she’d thought it was because she was still in love with him. For some inexplicable reason, she’d wondered if there was something wrong with her to expect more out of a relationship. Madeline had even had the stupidity to think she wasn’t good enough for him.

That misconception had been nothing more than her buying into Martin’s constant reminder of how lucky she was to have him. When you were in a relationship with a guy whose focus was solely on himself, it meant you weren’t a priority. Madeline couldn’t count the number of times he’d told her how many other women wanted him, but that he’d chosen her. Not once had he ever said he was lucky to have her in his life.

Hell, not once had he ever said she was beautiful, even though he didn’t have a problem pointing out other women he thought were beautiful. The sudden memory of Iain leisurely running his gaze along her body less than an hour ago pushed its way into her thoughts.

Martin had always acted like a fifth grader whenever he’d seen her naked or dressed up for a night out. He’d snicker like a little boy seeing candy and tried to squeeze a boob or grab at her crotch. It had always made her feel as though the only thing she was good for was sex.

When Iain had taken his time running his gaze over her from head to toe, it had been incredibly arousing, but not in a cringing way. It was as if he’d been studying a work of art and taking pleasure in what he saw. For the first time in her life, she’d felt beautiful, even alluring. Then there was the man’s quiet strength.