When Angus nodded toward the trunk, she went to it and opened it. On the top was a leather case containing shaving gear, and under it looked to be folded-up dresses. When Edilean reached for one of them, Angus shook his head that there wasn’t time to go through the garments. He well knew that she had only the clothes she’d been wearing when she ran away, but he also knew the dresses in the trunk would be much too big for her.
Reluctantly, Edilean left the dress where it was and took a small sewing kit that was tucked into a tray on the side. It would have scissors in it.
When Angus started out the door, he thought Edilean was right behind him, but when he looked back, she was at the bed, moving the blanket back to get a look at the sleeping woman. Angus caught her hand just as she was about to see the woman’s face.
He held her hand until they were outside the door in the hallway.
“I just wanted to see her!” she said in a loud whisper. “What’s so wrong with that? Both you and James have raved about her beauty and how you want to spend your lives with her, so it was only natural that I’d want to have a look at her.”
“Spend my life with her?” Angus whispered as they started up the stairs. “Are you truly mad? Were you bitten by a rabid dog?”
“Yes, one named James Harcourt,” Edilean muttered angrily.
Angus paused on the stairs, held the candle aloft, and said, “I do believe, lass, that you made a joke.”
“So I did. Maybe it’s a disease and I’m catching it from you,” she said as she went up the stairs past him, but she was smiling.
Once they were back in the room, Edilean took off the coat, told Angus to sit down, then walked around him, looking at his head and trying to figure out how to go about it.
“This is more than you can do,” he said. “I think we should forget this and I should head out to the Highlands tonight.”
She put her hand on his chest to push him back in the chair. “The best thing would be to shave your head and get a wig.”
Angus put his hand up to his head in protest.
“But we don’t have time for that. First, I must comb it, then I’ll cut it. Once it’s tied back, I’ll start on your face. This is going to take hours.”
Angus wasn’t sure if he’d like someone fiddling with his hair, but the moment she touched him, he relaxed.
“Go on, go to sleep,” she said. “I don’t need you to make fun of me while I do this job.”
“Go to sleep with a woman with scissors so near my face? I couldn’t trust you so,” he said, half teasing, half serious. But in the next minute his head nodded forward, and he began to doze.
Edilean was glad he’d gone to sleep because she could at last relax. It took a lot of energy to pretend to be strong and know what she should do with her life—and what another person should do. In one night she’d gone from being in love with James Harcourt—she glanced at him, still on the floor—to being alone in the world. All she seemed to have now was this man, who’d made it clear many times that he thought she was useless in the world, someone he had to look after night and day.
When Angus’s head tipped forward on his chest, she got the pitcher of water, filled a glass, and began to slowly comb the thousands of knots out of Angus’s long, thick hair. She hadn’t told him, but she’d never been this close to a man before. Oh, she’d had a few moments with men who stole kisses when no one was looking, James included, but she’d certainly never been in a room alone with a man and touching his hair.
It took over an hour to get the tangles out. Twice she’d had to use the scissors and snip away a knot that she couldn’t loosen. And several times, he’d nearly awakened when she pulled too hard. But she’d been able to at last get the comb through it, then she trimmed it so it was just shoulder length. She snatched the black silk ribbon off James and put it on Angus’s hair.
When she finished, she stepped to the front of him to have a look. She could see his forehead now and saw how well shaped it was. She ran her fingers over his cheek, then drew back when he stirred in his sleep and almost woke.
Next, she had to tackle that hideous beard of his. She was sure that he’d wake up as she began to use the scissors on it, but he didn’t. Yet somehow she knew that if she were to do something like, say, cock a gun, he’d wake in a second. It made her feel good that he trusted her so much that he allowed her to use scissors near
his face.
It took a while to cut the whiskers down to a length where she could shave them. She had amassed a great pile of hair by then and she gathered it up and tossed it out the window. As she did, she looked at the sky. Morning was coming and with it the sun. It wouldn’t be long before they would be on the ship.
When Edilean turned back, she drew in her breath. Angus was still asleep, his head against the back of the chair. His hair was no longer standing out around his head but was tied back neatly at the nape of his neck. His beard didn’t spread out until it covered even his neck but was now just a thick stubble of black whiskers.
She blinked a few times, looking at him hard. She wasn’t sure, but she thought maybe he was handsome. No, not just handsome, but beautiful. Perhaps even better-looking than James, but dark, with black hair and dark lashes.
She’d often seen her father shave when she was a girl, and she hoped she remembered how to do it. She had no hot water, so she’d have to make do with cold water and James’s scented lather.
She put the cold lather on his face and he didn’t so much as stir, but when she held the long straight razor to him, he grabbed her wrist, his eyes open and staring. “If I’m to cut your throat, you must release me,” she said calmly.
“Aye,” he murmured, “murder me in my sleep. I nearly forgot the plan.” He dropped her wrist and went back to sleep.
She marveled at how he could sleep—and joke—through all this, but he did. He was perfectly still as she shaved him, removing every trace of the hair on his face and neck. When she finished, she stood back and looked at him in disbelief. Angus had heavy black brows, thick lashes, a perfectly formed nose and lips... . She didn’t think she’d ever seen such beautiful lips on a man. They were full and soft, and as sculpted as those on a statue. Beside him, James was ordinary-looking.