The Highlander's Accidental Marriage (Marriage Mart Mayhem) by Callie Hutton

“Good night, lass.”
    Sarah fought to retain her dignity as she wished him a good night as well. How effective her words were remained questionable, since her voice croaked, which brought a soft, dangerous laugh from Braeden. He left her standing in the corridor as he opened his door and stepped into the room. Before he closed it, he poked his head out. “Best to get inside and lock yer door, lass. You never know who might wish to join ye.”
    She scurried inside and leaned against the door, attempting to catch her breath. The only visitor she needed to concern herself with was her traveling companion. What was even more disconcerting was that if it weren’t for Alice sleeping only feet from her, she might not have refused him had he asked.
    After all, if she were going to become the independent woman she aspired to, couldn’t she experiment a bit? She shivered at the scandalous thought.
    She closed her eyes and shook her head. This would never do. The Scotsman held too much power over her. He was not like the men she’d known in London, who would stay far away simply by the looks she cast in their direction. Tomorrow she would inform the professor that it would be best for him to be on his way, and she would find another means to travel to her sister.
    It had not escaped her notice that she’d earned the title “ice queen” among the gentlemen of the ton during her Seasons. The appellation suited her, made her feel as if she were in control of her life, not merely another young miss on the marketplace, like a horse being paraded before the crowd at Tattersalls. Eventually, she’d hoped to be considered on the shelf and then she could live her life the way she chose. She would write her books and lavish all her affection on her nieces and nephews.
    She would not allow the tall, handsome, bespectacled Scotsman to sway her, since the time to think about a man was a few years off—if at all. Perhaps, as her publisher believed, she would become the next Jane Austen or Caroline Lamb. Although she doubted she could ever flaunt convention as Caroline was wont to do.
    Moving away from the door, Sarah did her best to unfasten the back of her gown. She managed to undo the few clasps near her waist, but when it became apparent she was getting nowhere, she reluctantly approached Alice, tucked away in her cot against the wall.
    “Alice,” she called softly.
    The maid groaned but didn’t move. Sarah reached out to touch her shoulder, then gasped as she jerked her hand back. The woman was burning up with fever. “Alice,” she called again as she lightly shook her. “Alice. Can you wake up?”
    Alice rolled onto her back. “My lady. I feel so very sick. My stomach is rolling about, and my bones feel as though they are on fire.”
    In all the years of her life, it had always been her mother and various nurses who had taken care of the numerous illnesses, cuts, bruises, and other catastrophes that were a part of raising six children. Trying very hard to tamp down her rising panic, her mind raced in a myriad of different directions. But she brought herself up short when one thought resonated in her head.
    Braeden.
    Gathering her skirts in her fists, she raced to the door and flung it open. Within seconds she was pounding on Braeden’s door.
    “What?” He yanked open the door. Despite her rising panic, her eyes grew wide at his bare chest and unbuttoned breeches. Curly dark hair ran down the center of his muscular chest to disappear into his waistband. Wavy curls skimmed his forehead, and he fumbled to put his spectacles on. “What’s wrong, lass?”
    She licked her suddenly dry lips. “Alice. She is burning up with fever. I am worried. She seems very ill. Can we ask the innkeeper if there is a physician nearby?” Sarah wrung her hands. No person could survive such a high fever.
    “Calm down, lass.” He grabbed a shirt from a chair by the door and pulled it over his head, buttoning it as he strode down the corridor to