It did matter. It mattered so much he hadn’t been able to make himself forget it.
He had no right to be angry with her. No right to be seething with hurt, and…yes, damn it, jealous, but that lie had been echoing in his head since the moment he’d led her from her father’s room the night Lord Graystone died.
Over the following week he’d made dozens of excuses for her. He’d told himself Juliana was overwhelmed with grief and shock—that she hadn’t meant what she’d said. He’d reasoned that she’d only been trying to ease her father’s final hour. But no matter how much he argued with himself, Logan couldn’t quite convince himself there wasn’t more to that lie.
Lord Graystone had died believing Juliana was married to Fitz—that she’d become the Duchess of Blackmore—and there was a part of Logan that wondered if she wished it were the truth. She’d loved Fitz her whole life. For as far back as she could remember, she’d always imagined she’d become his wife. Instead she’d had to settle for Logan, a man she’d been forced to marry because he’d stolen her letters, and nearly destroyed her niece’s future. A man she hardly knew.
He’d known from the start of this if she had a choice, she wouldn’t have chosen to marry him. It hadn’t bothered him much at first. It wasn’t as if either of them regarded this as a love match. They were each marrying the other as a means to an end. Logan did regret taking those letters, but once he’d made up his mind to marry Juliana, he’d accepted whatever would follow.
But that was before…
Before he’d spent every night of the journey from Castle Kinross to Graystone Court holding her in his arms, her head nestled against his chest. Before he’d tangled his hands in the heavy silk of her hair and brought it to his lips. Before he’d heard her sigh his name, her mouth pressed to his ear, her arms around his neck. Before he’d met Grace, who was every bit the sweet, loving child Juliana had told him she was.
Before he’d fallen in love with her—
“Grace? Where are you?”
Logan’s head jerked up as Juliana’s voice floated down the hallway.
Grace ran across the library to the door. “Here, Aunt. Mr. Logan says he’ll come riding with us!”
“That’s very nice of him.” Juliana appeared in the doorway, but she didn’t come into the library. She hovered there, half-hidden by the door, much as Grace had when she’d been peeking at him earlier.
Was this what he and Juliana had come to, then? Was she afraid of him now? Had they gone from making love and sleeping in each other’s arms every night to this? The thought was so painful Logan opened his mouth to tell them he’d changed his mind, and wouldn’t accompany them riding after all, but he didn’t get the chance.
Grace darted across the library, grabbed his hand, and led him down the hall to the entryway. “Can we ride to the woods, Aunt? I want to see if there are any bluebells left.”
“Wait, Grace,” Juliana said, stopping her before she could dash out the door. “You’ve forgotten your hat. Fetch it, please.”
“Dratted thing! You won’t go without me?”
“No, of course not.” Juliana nodded at the staircase. “Go on. We’ll wait right here for you.”
Grace darted up the stairs, leaving Logan and Juliana alone in the entryway.
Juliana went quiet, but Logan caught her watching him from the corner of her eye. She looked pale still, and she was anxiously biting her lip. He could see she was distressed. A part of him wanted to gather her against his chest and soothe her, but he kept his hands fisted at his sides. He didn’t dare touch her anymore.
When the silence had stretched Logan’s last nerve to the breaking point, he cleared his throat and stiffly enquired after her health. “Are you well? You look tired still. I hope you’re sleeping?”
His manner was colder than he’d meant it to be, and Juliana seemed to flinch away from him. “Not as well as usual, perhaps, though I expect it’s the strain fatiguing me, rather than lack of sleep.”
Logan nodded. “It will get better in time.”
She was quiet for a moment, her throat working, then, as if she couldn’t bear to hold them back another moment, a flurry of words burst from her lips. “Logan, I—I want to thank you for…for everything. I don’t know how I could have managed without you this past week. I’m truly grateful.”
Logan’s throat tightened. “I’m your husband, Juliana. I did what any husband would do for his grieving wife. Did you expect any less of me?”
“No! No, I didn’t mean to suggest…I only wanted to thank you.”
Logan glanced at her, cursing himself when he saw her stricken expression. “I’m glad I was here and able to help you. I don’t like to think of you going through that alone.”
“No, neither do I.” She swallowed. “Indeed, about your being here. I wanted to know if you—do you intend to remain in England much longer?”
Logan’s body went rigid. Was she trying to hint he should return to Scotland, now he’d served his purpose? Grace’s future was secure, so there was no reason for Logan to linger here, was there? Juliana was married, and by the terms of Lord Graystone’s will, she was now Grace’s legal guardian.
As for Logan, he had no legal claim to Grace, despite being Juliana’s husband. But why should he? Lord Graystone had never even heard the name Logan Blair. Bitterness welled inside Logan, and he didn’t try to hide it. “If you’re so anxious to be rid of me, my lady, I’m happy to oblige you.”
Juliana jerked her head up, appalled. “No! That’s not why I…indeed, I only asked because I know you’re anxious to return to the clan, and I wanted to make it clear I—”
“I’ll be gone within the week.” Logan still had to take care of that business with Lord Cowden that Fitz had asked him to settle. He didn’t intend to leave England until it was done, but if Juliana wanted him gone from Graystone Court, he wouldn’t linger afterwards.
It was for the best. The sooner he left, the better off they’d both be.
Julian sucked in a breath. “You don’t understand, Logan. I want—”
“Here I am!” Grace came charging down the stairs, waving her hat over her head. “Now can we go?”
“Forgive me, Grace. I forgot I have some business this afternoon.” Logan forced a smile. “I’m afraid it can’t wait.”
Grace’s face fell.
Logan flinched. Damn it, he didn’t like to disappoint a child, particularly this one. He knelt down and took her by the shoulders. “I beg your pardon, but I’ll take you riding another time—later this week, if you like.”
“This week? You promise?” She brightened a little.
He had no business promising the child anything. He’d be gone from her life soon enough. It wasn’t fair to Grace to encourage her attachment.
But the promise fell from his lips, just the same. “Aye, I promise.”
To Logan’s surprise, Grace leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “All right.”
Logan ruffled her hair, then rose and opened the door. He paused on the threshold, but didn’t turn to face Juliana. “I don’t know how long I’ll be. You should plan to dine without me.”
He waited, but she didn’t reply. He left without looking back.
* * * *
It was well past calling hours when Logan arrived at Lord Cowden’s estate, but as he’d expected he was admitted at once, and taken to the drawing room to await his lordship.
Lord Cowden left him alone for longer than was polite, but again, Logan wasn’t surprised. Fitz knew Lord Cowden far better than most people did, and he hadn’t hesitated to share his knowledge with Logan.
Logan already understood a great deal more about the man than Cowden realized. He knew, for instance, that Cowden was the sort of man who liked to wield power over others—even such paltry power as keeping a visitor waiting. He also knew Cowden would appear soon
enough, if only to satisfy his curiosity regarding the man who’d married Lady Juliana Bernard.
The man who’d succeeded, where Cowden had failed.
When Cowden strolled into the drawing room at last, he was just what Logan expected he’d be.
Tall, handsome, scrupulously elegant.
Cold, with icy gray eyes and a cruel edge to his mouth.
“Well, Mr. Blair. How do you do?” He gave Logan a charming smile. Useful, that smile. That and Cowden’s unrelenting gentlemanliness was what kept in him good standing with the ton, despite the ugly whispers that followed him.
“I confess I’m surprised you’ve called,” Cowden went on. “Pleasantly surprised, of course.”
Logan doubted Cowden was at all surprised, but he only nodded politely. “It’s kind of you to receive me at such an hour.”
“Yes, well, I wouldn’t dream of turning away Lady Juliana’s husband. She and I are dear friends, you see. But I suppose she’s told you that already?”
Logan stretched his lips into a thin smile. “She did. I think you’d be surprised at how much she’s told me about you, my lord.”
Lord Cowden’s own smile remained fixed in place, but his eyes narrowed. “Indeed? Well, we’ve known each other since we were children, and as I said, we’re dear friends. I did, of course, hear of Lord Graystone’s recent passing. Unfortunately, I’ve been out of town and was unable to pay my respects.”
Logan already knew Cowden had been out of town. He also knew where he’d been—in London, squandering his new bride’s money at Boodle’s. Cowden was a skilled gamer, but these past few months his luck had been out. Dozens of aristocrats in London held his vowels, debts of honor Cowden was obliged to pay with his wife’s rapidly diminishing fortune, unless he fancied a hasty trip to the Continent.
“You’ll pass my condolences on to Lady Juliana, won’t you?” Cowden took a pinch of snuff from a silver snuffbox embossed with his crest, then sneezed daintily.
“I didn’t come here to talk to you about my wife, Lord Cowden.” Logan didn’t like hearing Juliana’s name in this man’s mouth. “I have business to discuss with you.”
Lord Cowden waved Logan over to a settee near the fireplace. “Do you? I can’t imagine what it could be.”
“Your land in Perth. I want to buy it,” Logan said bluntly, determined to get the thing done with as quickly as possible.
“The Scottish lands? I’m afraid they aren’t for sale, Mr. Blair.”
No, but they would be soon enough. “I’m prepared to pay you handsomely for them.”
Lord Cowden’s eyebrows rose. “You, or your brother, the Duke of Blackmore?”
Logan’s expression didn’t change, but Lord Cowden had managed to surprise him. Either his connection to Fitz was more widely known in England than Logan thought, or Lord Cowden had made it his business to pry into Fitz’s private affairs. “Does it matter?”
Cowden laughed. “My dear man, of course it does. As I’m sure you know, Fitzwilliam is another old and dear friend of mine.”
Christ, he could almost admire Cowden. If he hadn’t already known the man despised Fitz, Logan never would have guessed it from Cowden’s bland expression. “If he’s one of your oldest friends, then you must be anxious to oblige him.”
“I wish I could, Mr. Blair, but alas, I’ve other plans for that land. Plans I’ve already set in motion.”
Logan shrugged. “Plans change.”
“But I hate to alter them now. It took me ages to find a proper man to act as my factor, but I managed to secure one at last, and he’s anxious to begin his work. He’s in Scotland even now, arranging matters to my satisfaction.”
“You’ve hired a factor? You intend to clear the land, then?” Logan fought to keep his voice steady.
“Of course. Sheep farming is quite lucrative, as I’m sure you know.”
“What of the people there? Clan Murray has held that land since the twelfth century. Where do you expect them to go once you’ve cleared it?” Logan asked, though he already knew the answer.
Cowden didn’t give a bloody damn where they went, as long as they got off his land.
“Clan Murray? Is that who they are? How quaint.” Cowden waved a languid hand. “Clan Murray isn’t really my concern, Mr. Blair. I imagine they’ll find someplace to go.”
Logan clenched his hands into fists to keep from wrapping them around Cowden’s neck. “Sheep farming is lucrative enough, but yours is a small property. Hardly worth the trouble, particularly when the duke is prepared to pay you far more than the land is worth.”
Lord Cowden’s cold gray eyes were filled with triumph. “Fitzwilliam always did have deep pockets. It’s no wonder, really, that Lord Graystone chose him for Lady Juliana. Only a duke will do for a diamond of the first water, hmmm? But as I said, the land’s not for sale—not even to the Duke of Blackmore.”
Especially not to the Duke of Blackmore.
Cowden didn’t say so, but he might as well have.
Revenge. That was Cowden’s true motive, and likely the only thing in the world more important to him than money.
Cowden had always hated Fitz—had always bitterly envied him. If he’d ever had any affection for Juliana it had turned to hatred when she’d rejected him, then thwarted his attempt to gain control of Grace.
Now he also hated Logan, for being Fitz’s brother and Juliana’s husband. Logan could feel the animosity pouring off of Cowden, even as his charming smile never faltered.
“Forgive me, Mr. Blair, but if that’s all, I must bid you goodbye. I’ve an engagement this evening. You will give Lady Juliana my best regards, won’t you?” Lord Cowden rose from the settee. “I do hope it’s not too much trouble for you to see yourself out.”
Logan waited until Cowden left the drawing room before rising to his feet. He’d show himself out, but he’d be back tomorrow, and again the day after that.
He’d pry that land free of Cowden’s grasp, no matter how many days it took.
Chapter Twenty
Three days later
It had been three long, empty days since Juliana’s argument with Logan in the entryway. Three days of misery on her part, and three days of mysterious disappearances on his.
He never said where he was going, and when he returned he never explained his absences. Juliana knew only that he rode off every afternoon without a word to her, and each time he went, he stayed away longer than he had the time before.
He’d gone again the previous night, and hadn’t returned to Graystone Court until the early morning hours. He’d taken care to be quiet when he entered his bedchamber, but Juliana had been wide awake, praying for him to come home.
Waiting for him, her heart a heavy stone in her chest.
She hadn’t closed her eyes once the entire night, not even once she knew he was back. She’d lain awake, hoping against hope the door connecting their bedchambers would open, and he’d come to her. But the door had remained closed, just as it had every night since they’d arrived at Graystone Court.
Juliana rubbed her gritty eyes and threw her bedcovers back, but she couldn’t summon the energy to drag herself out of bed. She’d have to, soon enough. The day was advancing, and she’d promised Grace she’d ride with her and Logan this morning.
What business could he have that would take him away from Graystone Court day after day, and for hours at a time? He’d been in England for less than two weeks. Juliana couldn’t think of a single reason he’d be obliged to stay out all night.
Well, no. That wasn’t true. She could think of two reasons, and both of them made her numb with despair.
Either he had a mistress, or he was arranging his return to Scotland. Since that dreadful argument three days earlier, Juliana had been in anguished expectation of the moment he’d bid her goodbye, mount his horse, and leave Graystone Court without a
backward glance. It was, after all, what they’d agreed would happen. He’d fulfilled his end of their bargain. She had no right to ask him to stay, and God knew he had reason enough to wish to escape her.
As for a mistress…
Juliana threw an arm over her head and stared up at the green silk hangings above her. It was absurd to imagine Logan could have secured a mistress in the short time he’d been in England, but that didn’t stop her from imagining it. Nor did it stop her heart from twisting miserably in her chest when she did. It was odd how the heart came to completely overrule the head, once you fell in love.
Well, she’d fallen. She was hopelessly in love with Logan Blair.
She couldn’t imagine her life without him now, and yet as surely as she loved him, she’d also hurt him, so badly she was terrified she was going to lose him. Every time he looked at her or spoke to her she was certain he’d tell her he was leaving, and her heart would shrivel in her chest.
Not that he spoke to her often. He looked at her even less. Since she’d told that lie to her father, it was as if Logan could hardly bear to be in the same room with her. Whenever her gaze did happen to meet his, words tried to rush from her mouth. Pleas for his forgiveness, promises of love, an explanation for why she’d lied…
But she didn’t know why. The words would hover there, trembling on her lips, but she couldn’t speak them. She didn’t have any answers for Logan, or for herself. She tried over and over again to untangle her thoughts, but somehow her love for Logan and her pain over hurting him were tangled up with her anger at her father, and her grief over his death. Nothing made sense anymore. Everywhere she turned she found only sorrow, confusion, and regret.
“Aunt Juliana!” A sharp knock on her door pulled Juliana from her thoughts. A moment later Grace dashed into the room. “Why are you still in bed? Have you forgotten we’re meant to ride with Mr. Logan this morning?”
Grace had been looking forward to this ride all week, and she was outraged at the idea Juliana could have forgotten such a momentous occasion. Despite her dark mood, a smile rose to Juliana’s lips, and she held out her arms for Grace. “Yes, I know. Come, I’m fatigued this morning. You’ll have to help me up.”
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