Logan didn’t back away from his brother, but he did offer Lady Juliana a bow. “Beg pardon, Lady Juliana.”
She didn’t answer him, but for the first time since she found out Fitz was betrothed, she did look at Logan. He half-expected her to fly at him, to shriek and claw at his face, but she didn’t. She simply stared at him, her green eyes hard, then looked away again without saying a word.
The moment when her gaze met his seemed to stretch and swell into the longest of Logan’s life. The look in her eyes…
No one had ever looked at him with such quiet scorn before.
I’d rather she clawed me.
Fitz was still far from satisfied. “Would you care to explain to me why Lina would find it necessary to chase you from Gretna Green, Logan?”
“It was the only way she could be certain to find Castle Kinross.”
“Why shouldn’t she be able to find it?” Fitz was growing more impatient by the second. “I wrote to her with the direction, and anyway, Fergus could have told her the way. Why should she have to follow you?”
Logan raised an eyebrow at Lady Juliana. “Will you tell him, or will I?”
She didn’t answer him. Her green eyes narrowed on his face, but it wasn’t until she turned away that Logan realized she didn’t intend to tell Fitz anything about the letter he’d stolen. He caught her arm and turned her back to face him, more upset by her silence than he should be. “Tell him. I don’t need you to protect me, my lady.”
“I don’t do it to protect you!” She yanked her arm from his grip. “But to protect him.”
She nodded at Fitz, who was looking between the two of them as if they’d both lost their wits. “What’s going on here?” Fitz’s voice had gone dangerously soft. “Why didn’t Lina know the way to Castle Kinross? I’m not going to ask you again, Logan.”
Logan didn’t spare Fitz a glance. He kept his gaze on Lady Juliana. “Because she never received your letters. I took them, and then today I made Fergus promise not to give directions to Castle Kinross to any lady who asked for them.”
Fitz stared at Logan, shocked. “You took my letters? I don’t understand. Why would you…what did you do with them?”
“Burned them. Your letters to Lady Juliana, and hers to you.”
Fitz’s mouth dropped open. “All of them?”
“All but the first half dozen or so.”
Silence fell as the two men stared at each other. Long, tense moments passed without a word between them, then Fitz slowly shook his head. “Why would you do that, Logan?”
Logan let out a short laugh. “You know why.”
He didn’t have to say anything more. Fitz’s face fell, and Logan knew his brother understood exactly what he meant.
When Fitz had first arrived at Castle Kinross, he’d been everything Logan had feared he would be. Stiff, proud, distant—a lofty aristocrat who, despite the Blair blood flowing through his veins, had no understanding of the clan, the people, or the land.
Fitz owned this castle, and the land it stood on. He was the rightful Laird of Clan Kinross, and he was honor bound to protect his people. But when he’d first arrived at the castle there’d been nothing of the Scot in him—nothing of the laird. He was every inch the Duke of Blackmore, right down to his proper English accent.
In Logan’s experience, English dukes were about as interested in the welfare of the Scots who worked their land as they were an insect that happened to land on a sleeve of their fine coats.
They’d flick them aside without a second thought.
Logan turned to Lady Juliana. “I never read any of the letters. Just the one you saw me read today.”
Lady Juliana didn’t look as if she thought much of this one restraint on his part, but before she could speak, Fitz blew out a breath. “I thought we were past all this, Logan.”
“We weren’t past it then. We may not be past it even now.” Fitz hadn’t turned out to be the villain Logan had dreaded he’d be, but that didn’t mean Logan trusted him. Brother or not, Logan resented Fitz as much as he would any Englishman who owned his land.
Logan wasn’t sure he’d ever get past that.
But as the months had passed, Logan found that under his new brother’s haughty exterior, Fitz had a sincere wish to know his family. He wanted to learn about the clan, to understand the people. He’d gone from farm to farm with Logan, and when the people talked, he’d listened to them.
Then something miraculous had happened—something Logan hadn’t anticipated.
He’d never even dared hope Fitz would fall in love with a Scottish lass, but from the moment Fitz first laid eyes on Emilia Ferguson, she’d taken his heart into her hands. There was only one thing standing between them.
Fitz’s betrothed, Lady Juliana Bernard. She was a barrier, an obstacle to a happy ending not just for Fitz and Emilia, but also for Clan Kinross.
Logan saw his chance, and he took it. He began intercepting the letters between Lady Juliana and Fitz in hopes of putting an end to their betrothal.
“Should I assume, Logan, that you took the letters for my sake, so I could marry the lady I loved? How brotherly of you.” Fitz’s voice was heavy with sarcasm.
“No. I did it to protect the clan. It’s better for us if you marry a Scot rather than an Englishwoman.”
Especially this Englishwoman.
If Fitz married Emilia and they made their home in Scotland…well, even a cold-blooded English duke would think twice before tossing his wife’s clan and family off his land. It was reason enough for Logan to want Emilia Ferguson to become the Duchess of Blackmore.
As for Lady Juliana…
Logan glanced at her. She wasn’t at all what he’d expected, yet she remained, despite the spirit and courage she’d shown, the daughter of the Marquess of Graystone.
The marquess was no friend to the Scots. No, he was a friend to the Countess of Sutherland and her husband, the Marquess of Stafford, the two English aristocrats responsible for the Strathnaver Clearances. He was a friend to the thousands of English pounds he’d collected the following year, when he cleared his own lands to make way for the sheep herders who were better able to meet his exorbitant rents.
Logan could never forget the destruction he’d seen that day in Rosal Township. The taste of the thick black smoke in his mouth, the heat of the flames searing his eyes as one roof after another was set ablaze. The violence and confusion of it, the despair on the people’s face as they watched their homes burned to the ground.
The Countess of Sutherland had sent Patrick Sellar to drive the people off her land, and he’d done a fine job of it. Sellar had brought Clan MacKay to their knees. Families had been torn apart that day, and then again only a year later, when the Marquess of Graystone cleared his land in Glengarry, and sent Clan MacDonnell scattering to the winds.
If Fitz married Lady Juliana, he’d go back to England with her. Once he was there, it would be the easiest thing in the world for him to forget what he owed to Clan Kinross. How long would it be before Lord Graystone convinced Fitz he could turn a far tidier profit by leasing Kinross land to sheep farmers? How long before Fitz decided to evict his own tenants, just as Graystone had done?
Logan wouldn’t let that happen to his people, to his land. He’d been leading Clan Kinross since his father’s death five years ago, before any of them had ever heard of the Duke of Blackmore. Logan wasn’t the laird, but that didn’t make him any less responsible for his clan. It made him more so, because he’d seen for himself how quickly a life could be reduced to ashes if a heartless man thought he could turn a profit by it.
“Well, then. It seems there’s nothing more to be said. I wish to return to Inverness first thing tomorrow morning.” Lady Juliana turned dull eyes to Fitz. “You’ll take me, won’t you?”
“So soon? No, Lina. You’ve only just arrived, and anyone can see you
’re exhausted from your journey. Next week, perhaps, or the week after.”
“No, Fitz. I can’t linger here for weeks. I haven’t any time to lose. I’ve Grace to consider, and my father. I must return to London at once, and see what can be done to…”
To find another man to marry me.
The words hung in the air, unspoken, but there was no need for her to say them aloud. Each of them finished the thought in their heads.
She’d be forced to take whoever offered, and would end up married to a rogue, a fortune hunter, a gamester. She’d be wasted on some adventurer who’d steal every penny from her.
Fitz was already shaking his head. “No. I won’t allow that. We’ll think of something else.”
Lady Juliana sighed. “What? It’s too late, Fitzwilliam. You’re betrothed to another lady.”
Fitz didn’t answer. He leaned an arm against the mantel and rested his head on it. He remained in this attitude for some time without speaking. When he shifted at last to face them, the look of misery on his face made Logan tense with foreboding.
He’s going to jilt Emilia…
Logan knew it before Fitz could utter a syllable, but when Fitz did speak, his words slammed into Logan like a blow.
“I’m betrothed, Lina. Not married.”
Logan thought of Emilia Ferguson, with her sweet blue eyes and her kind, quiet ways. Emilia wasn’t the remarkable beauty Lady Juliana was, but she was a pretty, dark-haired lass, and she was devoted to Fitz. If he abandoned her now she’d never recover from the blow, and Fitz happened to be as madly in love with Emilia as she was with him. It made a marriage between them a joyous occasion for everyone.
Everyone, that is, but Lady Juliana Bernard.
“You’re betrothed to a lady you’re in love with,” Logan bit out, his voice harsh. “Emilia’s a worthy lass, and she loves you. Will you break her heart, Fitz?”
“What would you have me do? Abandon Lina to a disastrous marriage? What of Grace? Her father was my best friend, Logan. I’ve known Grace since she was born, and I won’t turn my back on her now. No,” he snapped, when Logan tried to interrupt. “Lina and Grace need me more than Emilia does. Emilia will…” Fitz drew a deep breath. “I’ll find a way to make Emilia understand.”
Logan let out an incredulous laugh. “Understand? You don’t know much about women, brother, if you think Emilia will understand it when you throw her over for some English lady who’s turned up out of nowhere.”
“You are brothers, then. I knew you must be.” Lady Juliana turned to Fitz, her lower lip trembling. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you tell me? We’ve always told each other everything. To find out now, like this…”
Fitz shot Logan a furious glare, but his face softened when he turned to Lady Juliana. “I’m so sorry, Lina. I would have told you, but I didn’t know it myself until recently. You remember when we were children, how cold my mother always was toward me? You haven’t forgotten that?”
“No, I haven’t. How could I?” Lady Juliana’s mouth twisted with sadness. “You used to run away from home and come to Graystone Court just to escape her. You were just a young boy, but even so I recall your telling me once that your mother didn’t love you. You could never understand why.”
Fitz hesitated, then crossed the room to take Lady Juliana’s hands in his. “I understand it now. She didn’t love me, Lina, because I’m not her son.”
The color fled Lady Juliana’s cheeks. “Not her son?”
“No. I’m the son of the Duke of Blackmore’s younger sister Sarah, and her husband, Gordon Kinross. As the Duke’s eldest nephew, I am the legitimate heir to the Blackmore Dukedom, but I’m not his son, Lina.”
“Dear God.” She raised her palm to her forehead, her hand shaking. “He never told you the truth?”
“No. My mother…that is, the duchess told me after his death. Once he died, there was no longer any reason for her to carry the secret. She’s always resented me, and when she saw her chance to be rid of me, she took it.” Fitz stared down at their joined hands. “She said there was no reason for me to stay now the duke was dead, and sent me off here to find my ‘real family.’ My ‘real family,’ Lina. Those were her exact words.”
“Oh, Fitzwilliam.” Lady Juliana pressed her palm to his cheek. “How could she be so cruel?”
Fitz shrugged, but his mouth was tight. “It explains a good deal about her behavior toward me, doesn’t it? She never wanted me, but the duke was desperate for an heir, and I was his last hope. The duchess lost a child early in their marriage, and it left her barren.”
Lady Juliana remained quiet, waiting for him to go on.
Fitz swallowed. “Our mother, Lady Sarah, died giving birth to Logan and me. The duke came to Castle Kinross to see his sister buried, and while he was here he convinced my father it was best for everyone if the eldest son came to live with him in England, where he could see to it I understood my responsibilities as his future heir. So, he brought me home to Surrey with him, and raised me as his son while my brother remained in Scotland with our father.” Fitz’s gaze met Logan’s then. “Some good came of finding out the truth, I suppose. I gained a brother.”
“And Clan Kinross gained a new laird.” Logan heard the bitterness in his voice, and cursed himself. No matter how hard he tried to bury his resentment, the same anger rose in his chest every time he thought of it. He tried not to blame Fitz for it, but the clan had been happy and prospering before he came here, and now all was thrown into uncertainty. Fitz’s arrival put them all at risk.
“I left for Scotland soon after I found out. I never meant to abandon you, Lina.” Fitz gave Lady Juliana a pleading look. “I always intended to come back to England, but once I got here…”
“Once you got here, you felt as if you’d come home.”
Her voice was soft, for Fitz’s ears only, but Logan heard her. He jerked his gaze to her, and was astonished to see she was gently caressing Fitz’s cheek.
Logan watched the tender scene unfold, and something shifted in his chest. No one could look at them and deny Lady Juliana cared very much for Fitz. What’s more, she understood him in a way only someone who’s known you your entire life can understand you.
Logan knew it wasn’t right, what he’d done to her. He’d known it all along, but tossing a few letters into the fire was far different than seeing the damage he’d caused with his own eyes.
Fitz was holding Lady Juliana’s wrists in his hands, his forehead resting on hers. He was murmuring something to her, too low for Logan to hear. Lady Juliana was shaking her head, and Logan drew closer to hear Fitz’s murmured words.
Emilia…back to Surrey with you…take care of Grace…
Logan grabbed his brother by the arm and wrenched him away from Lady Juliana. “You’re not going to abandon Emilia and leave her here alone in misery!”
Fitz tore his arm free and pushed Logan away from him. “Do you think I want to leave Emilia? You’ve left me no choice. Don’t forget, brother, this is all your doing. Once this business is sorted, I’ll come back to Emilia. I’ll explain it all to her, make her understand.”
Logan looked his brother in the eyes and slowly shook his head. “No, Fitz. Emilia isn’t going to understand. You’re going to break her heart if you do this.”
Lady Juliana studied Fitz for a long moment, taking in every detail of his shifting expression, then she turned that same piercing gaze on Logan. Without a word, she returned to her seat by the fire.
“Lina?” Fitz followed her across the room, pausing beside her chair. “I can’t…you must know I can’t let you—”
“No, Fitz. You’ll remain at Castle Kinross and marry your betrothed, just as you planned.”
Fitz shook his head. “No. I won’t send you back to England alone. We have to consider Grace—”
“I am considering Grace. I always do. I won’t be
returning to England alone. I’ll be taking my husband with me.”
Fitz’s head jerked back in surprise. “Your husband?”
Logan had crossed the room to stand in front of the fireplace, so he was close enough to see the look in Lady Juliana’s green eyes when she turned them on him. They no longer looked like a spring leaf lit by the sun. They were as bright and hard as two glittering emeralds.
A strange feeling unfolded in Logan’s chest as they gazed at each other. Even before she said a word, he knew…
“Yes. My husband. Mr. Blair is responsible for causing this mess, and Mr. Blair will be the one who gets me out of it.”
Logan didn’t expect what happened next, but before he could stop it a slow, appreciative smile rose to his lips. “Is that a proposal, my lady?”
“No, Mr. Blair.” Her dark green eyes disappeared behind heavily lashed eyelids. When she opened them again, she wore a small answering smile on her lips. “It’s a demand.”
Chapter Six
Logan Blair was smiling at her, but it wasn’t a warm, pleasant sort of smile. It was the sort of smile that made a shudder creep down Juliana’s spine.
He may as well have been baring his teeth.
“It’s curious, Lady Juliana. I remember you telling me I was the last man in the world you’d consider marrying.”
Juliana didn’t reply. She had said it, yes, and since he wasn’t gentleman enough to refrain from reminding her of it, she braced herself for a recitation of every other insult she’d dealt him.
She didn’t have long to wait.
“You said it was the most ridiculous thing you’d ever heard. A foolish, outrageous notion—yes, I think those were your words.”
Juliana remained silent. She simply folded her hands in her lap and waited.
“You accused me of arrogance and conceit, and then…what was it? Oh, yes. This was the best part. You said you wouldn’t even follow me across a street, much less half of Scotland.”
To Wed A Wild Scot Page 7