Chapter Eight
Juliana’s first thought when she woke the next morning was that a wiser lady would give up this mad scheme. She’d go back to England and do whatever she must to dig up a likely husband.
It would be easier than trying to reason with Logan Blair.
Easier than marrying him, as well.
Fitzwilliam didn’t intend to let her give up, however. He’d guessed she’d succumb to her doubts this morning, and had appointed her a guardian to keep her from fleeing.
“More tea, Lady Juliana?”
Juliana nodded, and held out her teacup. “Yes, thank you.”
Emilia Ferguson poured the tea into the dainty porcelain cup, set it on the tray, and pushed it across the table toward Juliana. “There. Isn’t this cozy?”
“Yes, very.” Juliana was well aware Fitzwilliam’s betrothed was her gaoler for the day, but as far as prisons went, she couldn’t deny Emilia had created a remarkably cozy one.
Juliana had woken later than usual. She’d thought to find the breakfast room deserted, but Emilia had been waiting for her there, despite the advanced hour. She’d cheerfully informed Juliana that Fitzwilliam had ridden to Inverness much earlier to tend to some business there. He expected to be gone all day, but he’d promised to stop at the Sassy Lassie and bring Stokes back with him to Castle Kinross that evening.
There was no sign of Logan Blair, and Juliana wondered fleetingly whether Emilia had taken her to this secluded back parlor to keep the two of them apart.
“I don’t mind saying I’m glad to have you to myself today, Lady Juliana,” Emilia said, as if she’d read Juliana’s mind. “Fitzwilliam has told me so much about you, I’m anxious to know you.”
Emilia offered her a shy smile, and Juliana’s own lips curved in response. Emilia Ferguson had one of those infectious smiles that made everyone around her smile in return. It was easy to see why Fitzwilliam had fallen in love with her.
She was very pretty, certainly, with her dark hair and dark blue eyes, and she had a sweetness about her, a loveliness that radiated outward from her heart.
In some ways Emilia reminded Juliana of herself when she was younger. Oh, she’d never been as shy as Emilia was—every time their gazes met Emilia’s cheeks flushed a becoming pink—but she’d had that same sort of naiveté about her, that same cheerfulness that came from knowing everything in her life was just as it should be, and would remain that way forever.
Until, of course, it didn’t.
Perhaps if she’d been forced to overcome some challenge before then, she wouldn’t have been so shocked when everything fell apart, but up until Emma’s death, and then Jonathan’s a year later, Juliana had had very little in her life to vex her.
Juliana let out a weary sigh. She must have looked desolate indeed, because she felt a soft touch on her arm and looked over to find Emilia’s brows drawn together with concern.
“Won’t you tell me a little about your niece, Lady Juliana?”
Juliana, who was more than happy to have the distraction, gave Emilia a grateful smile. “It’s so kind of you to ask. Grace is the dearest little thing you can imagine. So bright, so inquisitive. Naughty occasionally, as all children are, but with a tender, loving heart. I’m certain you’ll meet her yourself someday. Fitzwilliam is very fond of her, and will want you to know her.”
“Oh, I should like that more than anything. Does she look like you?”
“Not at all. She’s got dark hair and big dark eyes. My late brother Jonathan wasn’t as fair as I am. Grace resembles him, but she looks much more like her mother than anyone else. She’ll grow up to be a beauty, just as Emma was.” Juliana smiled, but it was tinged with the sadness she always felt whenever she spoke of Emma and Jonathan.
Emilia saw it, and quickly changed the subject. “What sorts of things does she like to do? Does she ride yet?”
“She does, indeed. She has her own mare at Graystone Court, and she’s fond of riding her. She likes the outdoors, so we spend a good deal of our time tramping about the grounds, studying plants and flowers. She adores fairy tales and stories. I read her a new one every night at bedtime, and then I tell her a story about her parents. I don’t want her to forget them, you see.”
“No. No, of course not.” Emilia hesitated, then said, “I can tell you love her very much.”
“I do. More than anything.”
Emilia patted her hand. “Fitzwilliam tells me this man—this Lord Cowden—isn’t a fit guardian for Grace. Is he as bad as all that?”
“He’s worse than unfit. He’s dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” Emilia echoed, her hand going to her throat. “How?”
Even thinking of Benedict made Juliana’s heart race with fear. “He’s the sort of man driven to extremes by bitterness and jealousy.”
“W—what sort of extremes?”
Juliana sighed. “For as long as I’ve known him, he’s never been satisfied with what he has. He’s an earl, but he holds his own title in contempt. His fortune is substantial, but no amount of money is ever enough for Lord Cowden. He’s always envied Fitzwilliam. Despised him, even, because Fitzwilliam outranks him, and his fortune is much greater than Lord Cowden’s.”
Emilia recoiled. “He sounds dreadful.”
“He is, but he’s very good at hiding his true nature. He’s a handsome man, and extremely clever and charming. He recently married, and his wife is very young, enamored of him, and a great heiress. Last night Fitzwilliam said he pitied Lord Cowden’s bride, and I can’t help but feel the same. I haven’t the faintest doubt he’s after her fortune, and doesn’t care a fig for her.”
Emilia looked horrified. “But how could your father appoint such a man as his granddaughter’s guardian? It doesn’t make sense!”
A day didn’t go by Juliana didn’t have the same thought, but as angry as she was at her father, she still found herself leaping to his defense. “My father isn’t well, and hasn’t been for some time. You must understand, Fitzwilliam and I grew up with Lord Cowden. His father was a dear friend of my father’s, and we’ve known the family all our lives. Lord Cowden can be very charming when he wishes to be. My father is utterly taken in by him.”
Emilia’s face had gone pale. “Your niece, Grace. She’s an heiress as well, isn’t she?”
“Yes.” Juliana’s tone was grim. “Grace’s money is reserved for her in a trust. Legally, her guardian can’t touch a penny of it, but a man like Lord Cowden…well, I’ve no idea how he’d contrive to get his hands on it, but I’m sure he’d try. He doesn’t care a whit for Grace, that much is certain. I don’t want him anywhere near her.”
“No, of course you don’t! Why, nothing could be worse!”
Juliana stared down into her teacup, her stomach churning. No, nothing could be worse than Grace being left at Lord Cowden’s mercy. Not even marriage to Logan Blair.
It was a timely reminder.
Juliana set her teacup aside and rose to her feet. She was wasting precious time, sitting here chatting when she could be trying to persuade Mr. Blair to marry her.
Or failing that, threatening him into it.
“Have you seen Mr. Blair today?” Juliana asked, taking care to keep her voice casual. “I, ah…I have a question to ask him.”
“Not since this morning, no. Perhaps Mrs. Selkirk knows where he is.” Emilia rose to pull the bell, but paused as she passed the window. “There he is. It’s looks like he’s going for a ride.”
Juliana hurried to Emilia’s side. She peered through the window into the stable yard below, and there was Logan Blair, his dark hair ruffling in the breeze. He was wearing tight-fitting buckskin breeches, and his thighs looked like tree trunks.
Not that she had any use for his thighs, but really, he was the most imposing man she’d ever seen. Dreadful too, of course, but imposing. His sheer size alone…
“Where do you suppose he’s going?” It didn’t look to Juliana as if he was off on a mere ride. No, he was outfitted for a journey, and a long one, at that.
“Off to visit some tenants, perhaps. He often does so.”
A knot of suspicion was tightening in Juliana’s chest. “I see. Is he usually gone for quite some time?”
Emilia shrugged. “It varies. Sometimes just a day or two, but I’ve known him to go off for several weeks before.”
Several weeks! Without another word, Juliana whirled around and rushed to the parlor door. Why, that despicable coward was running away from her!
Emilia startled, then hurried after her. “Lady Juliana! Where are you going?”
“I’m going after Mr. Blair.”
Emilia’s eyes went wide. “Going after him! But why?”
“Don’t you see, Emilia? He knows very well I can’t hang about Castle Kinross for weeks, waiting for him to return. He thinks to escape a marriage to me this way!”
“Oh, no, Lady Juliana! I’m sure that’s not so!” Emilia looked appalled. “Logan isn’t like that. He’d never do something so cowardly!”
Juliana didn’t see why not. He was a thief, wasn’t he? Why shouldn’t he be a coward as well? “Perhaps not, but I’m not willing to take that chance. Mr. Blair is going to have company today, whether he likes it or not.”
Emilia was growing more distressed with every word out of Juliana’s mouth. “Oh, dear. Perhaps I should send a servant to Inverness to find Fitzwilliam?”
“No, there isn’t time. I’m sorry, Emilia. I don’t like to upset you, but I’m going after him. Will the groom be able to give me his direction?”
“Yes, but you’re not going alone?” Emilia was wringing her hands.
Oh yes, she was. If she was alone when she caught up to Mr. Blair—and she would catch up to him—he’d be forced to bring her back to Castle Kinross himself.
If Logan Blair thought he was going to just ride blithely off into the distance and remain there until she was forced to leave Scotland, he was very much mistaken.
* * * *
She couldn’t feel her backside anymore.
Juliana shifted this way and that on the saddle, but it was no use. Her poor posterior had gone completely numb. She was an accomplished rider, but a ramble around the grounds with Grace wasn’t quite the same thing as a mad dash across the Scottish Highlands.
Perhaps she should have listened to Emilia and waited for Fitzwilliam to return home. He’d warned her to let him deal with his brother, but Juliana was reluctant to let Mr. Blair out of her sight. Why, even now the man might be running off to some far-flung firth, or some out-of-the-way castle to escape her.
She’d paused only long enough to confirm with a stable boy that Mr. Blair was heading for the Robertsons’ farm, and that if she rode due east, she’d catch up to him before he arrived. It had taken several hours of hard riding, but twenty minutes ago she’d caught sight of him ahead of her, perched on the back of his gray stallion.
He’d since become aware she was following him, but so far, he hadn’t acknowledged her by so much as a glance. He was so intent on ignoring her, in fact, that Juliana was tempted to charge after him, leap onto his horse’s back, and tackle him to the ground.
Let him try and ignore that.
Upon further thought, though, she decided a less confrontational approach would be best. No man wanted a bride who wrestled him into the dirt. No, it would be far better if she kept her temper in check, and tried to charm him instead.
She’d been charming, once upon a time.
Juliana tapped her heels into her horse’s flanks, her gaze locked on Mr. Blair’s broad back. He was still some distance ahead of her, but she urged her horse into a canter, and soon she drew close enough to him it became ridiculous for him to refuse to notice her.
At last, he turned to her with a resigned sigh. “Is it a habit of yours, Lady Juliana, to chase after men who don’t want your company?”
She arched a brow. “If they did want my company, I wouldn’t have to chase them, would I? Besides, following you has proven to be quite a productive use of my time. You did lead me straight to Castle Kinross last night, if you recall.”
She took care to keep her voice pleasant, but all she got for her efforts was a dark frown.
She tried again. “The moors are quite beautiful.” The sun cast its afternoon rays over the gently rolling hills, picking out what seemed to Juliana thousands of shades of brown and green. “What’s it like when the heather is in full bloom?”
He glanced briefly at her. “Purple.”
“How pretty that must be!” Juliana exclaimed, with resolute cheerfulness.
Mr. Blair didn’t reply.
Juliana frowned. Goodness, what a stubborn man. The more determined he was to ignore her, the more determined she became to make him talk to her. “You’re not at all like Fitzwilliam, for all that you two are brothers. He’s never cross.”
“I’m not cross,” he snapped. “But if I am, it’s only because—”
“That sort of bad temper won’t do when we’re married, you know,” she went on. “I won’t have you biting my head off every morning at the breakfast table.”
He spun in the saddle to face her, his cheeks flushed with irritation, but as soon as he caught the mischievous grin on her face, his lips gave a reluctant twitch. “Very clever, mo bhean uasal.”
Mo bhean uasal? “What does that mean?” Something insulting, no doubt. Insufferable Englishwoman, perhaps.
He shrugged, but wouldn’t answer.
She huffed out a breath. “I don’t see any reason for us to quarrel, Mr. Blair.”
“Don’t you, lass?” The sarcasm in his voice was slightly offset by the hint of a smile still lurking at the corners of his mouth.
She studied his lips, a tingle of awareness lifting the fine hairs on her neck. He had quite a nice mouth. Perhaps he should put it to better use and smile more.
But then his mouth was no concern of hers. Juliana cleared her throat. “How much longer until we reach the Robertsons’ farm?”
He stiffened in the saddle. “We aren’t going to the Robertsons’ farm. I’m going, without you. You made it this far on your own, and you can make it back the same way. Castle Kinross is due west. Keep riding until you run into it.”
Juliana didn’t believe for one minute he’d send her back to Castle Kinross alone. “No, I don’t think so. I’ve already been that way. I’d rather go along with you, and see more of the eastern countryside.”
“This isn’t a pleasure ride, Lady Juliana. A half-dozen or so of the Robertsons’ sheep have gone missing. He can’t account for it, and suspects a poacher. It’s going to be an exhausting day.” He swept a derisive look over the pristine riding habit she’d borrowed from Emilia. “Filthy, too. We’ll be clambering over hills and under bushes searching for the sheep. You won’t find it amusing.”
Juliana’s mouth tightened at his mocking tone. He imagined she lived only to be amused, did he? Perhaps that had been true once, but she couldn’t recall the last time she’d been at liberty to pursue frivolous entertainment. Logan Blair, for all his smirking and innuendo, hadn’t the vaguest idea what she was capable of. “You might be surprised, Mr. Blair, at what I’d find amusing.”
He gave her a skeptical look, as if to say he’d be shocked if he found anything she did surprising. “You won’t be able to keep up with us. You’ll only slow us down.”
Juliana ran an uneasy eye over the rough terrain surrounding them. The truth was, she hadn’t intended to ride today. She’d slept poorly, and her body was still fatigued from yesterday’s
adventures, but she’d be damned if she’d admit any of this to Logan Blair. “Nonsense. I kept pace with you from Gretna Green to Inverness, didn’t I? Why should this be any different?”
“Because we’re chasing sheep today. You’re bound to get in the way.”
Juliana shrugged. “Even so, I don’t like to let you go without me. Who knows how long you’d decide to be gone from Castle Kinross? It would be a pity, indeed, if I was obliged to leave Scotland without saying goodbye to you.”
Juliana’s voice was pleasant, but he understood at once what she was implying, and his face darkened with anger. “All right then, my lady. If you want to watch my every move, I can’t stop you. But there’s no harm in taking you along, is there, lass, since you’re so certain you can keep up?”
Juliana eyed him, her gaze narrowing. He didn’t believe for one moment she could keep pace with the men. She could see by the smug smile on his lips that he was only humoring her. He was just waiting for the moment when she admitted she couldn’t keep up, and was forced to plead for mercy.
Juliana fisted the reins, anger burning in her chest. Logan Blair could keep her out here all night, and that moment would never come.
“One more thing, Lady Juliana. The men out here don’t have much use for aristocratic English ladies. You’re not in any danger from them—that is, not as long as you stay close to me.”
Juliana smothered a snort. Danger, indeed. He was only trying to intimidate her.
They didn’t speak at all after that, but rode across the moors at a quick pace. It was another hour before they reached the farm, which was a little more than twenty-four miles to the east of Castle Kinross. Juliana’s legs, still weary from yesterday’s ride were groaning in protest by the time they rode into the farmyard, but she maintained a stoic silence.
She’d dismounted and was trying to shake some feeling back into her legs without attracting Mr. Blair’s attention when the door to the farmhouse opened, and the most enormous man she’d ever seen came out. That is, he was the most enormous man she’d ever seen until she got a look at the two other men who followed him into the yard.
To Wed A Wild Scot Page 10