And yet… he saw through her façade. Her brown hair, once gleaming with gold strands, was now dull and matted, as if she hadn’t bothered to do more than pin it up. She was an enigma to him, with her sad green eyes. She’d grown into a slender lady, but there were hollows in her cheeks and shadows beneath her eyes. Almost as if she’d stopped eating.
Juliette shoved the bonnet into her younger sister Amelia’s hands and started for the door. It was as if she couldn’t bear the thought of being paired with him.
Pride made him hold his ground while she fled. It was clear that she wanted nothing to do with him, and that was the answer he’d expected. Even so, it wasn’t like her to run. The young woman he’d known would have blushed and laughed at the good-natured teasing. She wouldn’t have fled.
It wasn’t safe for her to be outside alone. And while she might not want his company, he intended to ensure that she was all right.
One of his friends, Rory MacKinloch, caught his arm. “She’s a bonny lass, but with a tender heart, lad. Mind yourself.” Rory tightened his grip, as if he considered himself Juliette’s adopted big brother.
Paul shrugged the man’s hand away. “I’ve known her e’er since the day she set foot in Scotland.” And he’d easily wager that he knew her better than anyone. She’d opened up her heart to him in dozens of letters.
A knowing smile spread over Rory’s face. “She doesna seem to be wanting your attentions, lad. You might set your sights on another.”
“She’s the one for me. Always has been.” He crossed through the crowd of wedding guests, knowing Juliette had slipped away outside. When he reached the front door, he opened it and saw that the clouded sky held the promise of snow. The late January weather had been harsh, the bitter cold making it even more difficult for the crofters.
Juliette had grasped her skirts and was running toward the barn. As he followed her, his gaze passed over the rows of tents housing the refugee crofters. The tents were set up amid the snow, while several outdoor hearth fires had dwindled to ashes.
The crofters had been forced off the land when the Earl of Strathland had refused to renew their leases this past fall—his mother among them. If it weren’t for the Duke of Worthingstone, who had agreed to let all of the crofters rebuild their homes on his land, Paul would have brought his mother back to Edinburgh. As it was, Bridget had insisted on remaining among the others, no matter how dismal the living conditions were. She was their only midwife and was stubborn enough to endure the freezing nights.
Others had refused to be displaced. When some of the crofters had tried to return to their homes in secret, Lord Strathland’s factor, Mr. Melford, had ordered their homes set on fire.
Sometimes with the crofters still inside.
Paul’s jaw tightened at the memory. He’d treated countless burn victims, fighting to save their lives. It only strengthened his need for vengeance against the earl. Not only because of what had happened to his own family, but for all the others as well.
He stopped before the barn, resting his hand against the wooden doorframe. Instinct warned him to leave Juliette alone, but the need to protect her was stronger.
He was here.
Juliette Andrews’s heart was beating so fast, she could hardly breathe. The past few years had transformed Dr. Paul Fraser into a fiercely handsome man. His dark hair had a hint of curl to it, and those midnight-blue eyes had turned her knees to uncooked custard. After she’d caught her sister’s bonnet, he’d reached for the groom’s hat.
Any other woman would have been thrilled that he’d been the one to grasp it, instead of another man. Juliette, on the other hand, was filled with panic. This tall, devastatingly handsome man was not going to listen to her reasons why she intended to remain a spinster for the rest of her life. From the moment Paul had returned to Scotland, she’d been well aware of his pursuit, despite her attempts to avoid him. He wanted answers, and she had no intention of revealing anything to him.
She tried to find her calm, sensible side. It was natural that he should want to speak with her after all this time. They’d been friends, after all.
But he wanted more.
And more wasn’t something she could give.
Juliette went to stand by one of the stalls, reciting the multiplication tables in order to calm her disordered mind. If only she could sort her life into neatly ordered columns that added up correctly.
Her brain reminded her that she owed him no explanations at all. Feelings altered, especially when time and distance were involved.
Yes, that would do. She willed the ice around her heart to harden, reminding herself that she could not allow herself to weaken around Paul Fraser. The desires of a young girl had no place in her life now.
Numbers, ink, and paper were her dearest companions now. She would grow old, her fingers stained with the written numbers that accounted for her family’s earnings. Her heart was frozen over so that she would never feel the broken edges that remained.
Juliette took comfort from the decisions she’d made. She would not dwell upon the nightmares of the past or the mistakes. Nor would she allow one sinfully handsome Highlander to unravel all of her carefully laid plans.
Her heart had already been broken. And so help her God, she would hold fast to her secrets so that he would turn away from her and find a woman worthy of his love.
For it could never, ever be her.
Paul fingered the hat in his hands and set it down outside the barn door. Juliette had retreated farther inside, her hands resting against one of the stalls as if to steady her thoughts. Though he didn’t speak a word to her, she glanced up when he entered.
“You followed me.” Her expression held traces of resignation. “I was afraid you would.”
It wasn’t exactly an encouraging greeting. “I came to watch over you, not to bother you.” He studied her, sensing that this would be one of those conversations where not a single word he spoke would be the right one.
“I’m all right, really.” She nodded toward the door, as if hoping he’d leave.
Beneath her mask of indifference, he knew there was more to this. For weeks now, he’d tried to see her, and she’d stubbornly refused. Now, she was a stranger to him. In the evening light, she appeared more fragile. Almost as if she’d forgotten how to laugh.
“It was kind of you to watch over me,” she said. “But I just needed a moment alone.” She tucked a strand of fallen brown hair behind one ear and eyed the door as if she wished he’d walk through it.
But Paul had no intention of leaving. Not yet. He took a step forward and eyed the horse stalls. “I must tell you, this wasna how I imagined seeing you again.”
“It’s been a long time.” Her voice was cool, as if she were anxious for him to go. And damn it all, he couldn’t think of why she’d come to dislike him so. All he’d done was ask her to marry him.
“You should go, Dr. Fraser,” she advised. “I’m certain your friends will be missing you.”
Your friends. As if she weren’t one of them? Then, too, she was calling him Doctor, instead of using his name. Aye, her desire for distance was perfectly clear, though he didn’t know why. He hadn’t seen her in years, and he doubted if he’d offended her during the ten minutes he’d been in her presence.
If she were any other woman, he’d think she was playing games. But then, Juliette had never been that sort. She’d always been steadfast and honest.
“We were friends once,” Paul reminded her. “Or has that changed, since I left to study medicine?” He crossed his arms and waited for an answer. If she didn’t want him any longer, then he’d go.
Beneath the guise of indifference, he caught a glimpse of fear. She was trying to remain calm, to behave as if nothing had changed. But there were shadows beneath her eyes, a frailty to her pale skin.
Juliette walked closer to him and stared for a long moment. “I don’t know what we are anymore.” Her voice held years of regret. “But you shouldn’t be here alone with me.
It’s not proper.”
“Now you sound like your sister Margaret. Not the girl who used to climb trees with me.” Paul took a step closer, watching to see if she truly meant it.
She didn’t retreat but instead stood her ground, repeating, “I said you should go.”
“So you did.” And he would, as soon as he had the answers he wanted. He’d always trusted his instincts, and there was something about her demeanor that belied her words.
Slowly, he reached out to take her hands, bringing them to rest upon his chest. It was a test to see if she would consider him a threat. Her gloved fingers were small, but when he released them, she didn’t pull away. Instead, her palms covered his beating heart. There was heartbreak in her eyes, as if she drew comfort from the touch. It took every ounce of restraint not to pull her into his arms and hold her tight.
After they’d grown so close through years of letters, he’d made his desires known. And although his prospects were uncertain, he wanted her to know that he would take care of her. “You’ve been avoiding me since I returned to Scotland.”
“I was in London,” she argued.
“You refused to see me when I paid a call on you.”
“That was my mother.” She shook her head. “I didn’t know you’d come until she’d already turned you away.”
“Would you have wanted to see me?”
For a moment, her expression held a yearning that nearly stopped his heart. Her hands moved slightly against his skin, and she closed her eyes. She’d been about to say yes. He was sure of it.
A brittle look flashed over her face before she veiled it. “We hardly know one another anymore. It’s been too many years.”
“Did you forget what there was between us?” His hand moved to the curve of her cheek, and fear welled up in her green eyes. She looked as if she wanted to flee but didn’t. A blush colored her cheeks, and he could see that she hadn’t forgotten. It was in her eyes and in the way she wasn’t shoving him back, telling him she didn’t care a whit.
She did care. It was there in her touch, for she wasn’t pulling away. She was leaning against him as if she remembered every day they’d spent together when they were young. He relaxed his hands, giving her every opportunity to move away. The fact that she remained in place offered a grain of hope. It was only her words that contradicted her actions.
“There are dozens of women back there who would fall down at your feet, if you would but look at them.” Her voice was heavy, and she lowered her gaze.
“It wouldna make a difference,” he said quietly. “There is only one woman I want.”
“Not me.” She took a breath and stepped back from him. In that moment, he saw such a wounded spirit, he wondered what had happened during the last two years. She was behaving older than her nineteen years.
“What changed, Juliette?” He wanted to hear the reasons from her own lips, to understand why she’d been avoiding him.
He thought back to the fires that happened a few months ago during the evictions. Had she somehow been threatened during the violence? He’d believed she was safe in London at the time, but perhaps not. His time had been spent tending the wounded, and he’d lost track of everything except the fight against death.
“We’re not children anymore, Dr. Fraser,” she reminded him. “Both of us have changed.”
“Look in my eyes and tell me you want naught to do with me. Tell me your feelings changed, and I’ll walk away this moment. You willna see me again.”
When he met her gaze, she only flushed. “It’s been a long time.” It wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting. Something was troubling her, but she would not say what it was.
Paul put his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs caressing her through the wool of her gown. “Aye, it has.” With a heavy sigh, he admitted, “I suppose we could start anew, as friends again.” He took a step back, trying to grant her distance.
A vulnerability crossed her face, as if she remembered the lost years between them. But she shook her head with regret. “I don’t know if that’s wise.”
“Because I’m poor?”
“Poverty has nothing to do with it.” She softened her tone. “You’ve done well for yourself, Dr. Fraser. I’m happy for you.” There was a hint of pride on her face, as if she meant what she’d said.
Her sudden shift confused him, for in her tone, he’d caught a glimpse of the girl who had once been his friend. The one who had answered the early letters, encouraging him through the endless hours of study. The girl who had kissed him, on that day he’d left Ballaloch, so many years ago.
“When I returned to Ballaloch, two years ago, I asked you to wed me.” He met her gaze, unflinching. “You said it was too soon, but you didna say no. Then I ne’er heard from you again.” It was the silence that bothered him most, more than the secrets she was holding back. “Do you no’ think I deserve an explanation, Juliette?”
He refused to call her Miss Andrews, despite what was proper. To him, she would always be Juliette.
She went motionless, as if trying to find the right words. At last, she answered, “I know the sort of life you want. And it’s not for me.”
Again, she was trying to push him away. But what did she mean, “the sort of life” he wanted?
“I want the life every man wants. I want a wife and bairns. I want to spend my days making you happy.” He moved behind her, waiting to see if she would flee. Instead, she remained still. He drew his arms around her, pulling her back against him.
“You can’t.” But she leaned her head against him, making no move to escape his embrace. He didn’t know if he was imagining it, but she seemed to welcome his arms around her. It gave him hope that perhaps there was a chance for them.
“Is it all men? Or just me?” He breathed in the scent of her hair, knowing that there would never be another woman for him. Not like her.
She turned around to face him. “All men. And if it’s a wife and children you want, you should look elsewhere.”
She wasn’t saying no to him. Only to marriage. He didn’t know what to think of that, or why she no longer wanted to marry anyone. But like a stream that could wear down any mountain, he intended to quietly smooth away her reluctance.
“Why did you run from me, back at the house?” he demanded, resting his mouth against her temple. “Have I done something to make you afraid?”
“No.” She moved her cheek against his, her breath warming his face. But in her voice, he caught the tremor of nerves.
Paul kept her palm in his, stroking the sensitive flesh with his thumb. Then he drew back to see the play of emotions on her face. “Something happened in the last year, didn’t it?”
She paled at his words, and he saw that he’d stumbled upon the truth. “M-my father became a baron and inherited his brother’s estates. And his debts.”
“No. That isna the reason. You’re no’ the sort of woman who cares about a title.”
She flushed and pulled away from him. “He went to fight in the war, leaving us behind. We had to struggle to survive here, and there’s been so much violence between the earl’s men and the crofters.”
He still sensed that she wasn’t giving him the full truth. In her green eyes, he caught a flustered air, as if she didn’t want to reveal more.
“What happened to you, Juliette?” He deliberately used her first name again, wanting to remind her of the days when they’d been close friends, hardly more than adolescents.
She closed her eyes, crossing her hands around her waist. “You’re a good man, Dr. Fraser. And you deserve so much more than a woman like me.” Juliette braved a smile before she returned outside, leaving him to wonder about the secrets she held.
Juliette returned to her sister’s wedding, feeling as if Dr. Fraser had already guessed her shame. Seeing him there, so handsome and strong, had made her heart weaken. But she was scarred by the past, and if Paul learned of it, he would turn away from her in disgust.
Worse, he wanted children. Her
heart bled at the thought, for he would make a wonderful father. She could easily imagine him holding a son’s hand, taking him for a walk across the glen or telling him stories before bedtime.
You can never give him children, her conscience warned. It’s best to let him go.
Inside, she raged at the unfairness of it all. It was as if someone had severed the ribbons that bound up her dreams, letting them spill to the ground.
A thousand if-onlys wouldn’t change the past. Nor could she allow the anger to consume her. It would only eat away at her spirit, transforming her into a bitter woman.
No, she would remain strong and steadfast in her vow to remain a spinster. Paul would live his life, and she would remain wedded to numbers and accounts.
Her traitorous, foolish heart thought that was a terrible idea. What were numbers, compared with a Highlander who took her breath away? Although the years had distanced her from Paul, he’d never faltered in his friendship. But it wasn’t friendship he wanted now.
She could see that in the way he’d watched her, as if he could see through her words to the secrets she held inside. He’d grown taller, and his body was lean and muscled. When he’d touched her, the warmth of his palms had made her pulse quicken.
She’d expected it to be awkward and strange, after so many years. Instead, from the moment she’d seen him, Paul Fraser was a threat. Not only because he cared for her… but also because he’d conjured up feelings she never wanted to face.
He might have stolen a kiss, if she’d encouraged him. She might have allowed it, if she were still an innocent.
Juliette blinked back the tears, ignoring the ache within her. She leaned back against the wall, wondering what she should do. The wisest move would be to push Paul away, to refuse to see him again, as she’d done already. But seeing him again after so many years had only pried open the door holding back her rage at being ruined.
Unraveled By The Rebel Page 2