“Don’t speak,” he warned, touching her mouth with a finger. “I can see what you’re thinking. But you’ll keep it, and make your decision later.”
She let it be, knowing she ought to remove the ring. To wear it meant giving him false hope. And yet…he was her forbidden secret. She didn’t want to give back the ring. Instead, she wanted to keep it on a chain, wearing it hidden against her heart.
Paul took her hand again. “Come with me back to the crofters. You can help me distribute the food.”
“What food?” She frowned, not understanding what he meant.
“You’ll see.” He gave no other explanation but led her back down the hillside. They walked toward the rows of thatched huts. Dogs barked at their approach, and Juliette held tightly to her fur-lined pelisse as the winter wind blew past the houses.
Though she’d brought bread to these people on many occasions, when she saw the children gathering at one of the homes, her mood grew more somber. Their shoes were thin, their plaids wrapped tightly about them. One of the men was passing out sacks of potatoes, turnips, and dried fish.
“Where did all of this come from?” she asked, staring at the supplies. When Paul didn’t answer, she faltered.
In the barest whisper, she inquired, “They didn’t steal it, did they?”
Still he made no reply. The silver ring upon her finger seemed heavier somehow, and she wondered if he had planned the raid or only participated in it.
“It’s wrong,” she murmured. “They shouldn’t—”
“It was food stolen from them,” he said, not bothering to hide the edge of anger. “Strathland doubled their rents only a few weeks ago. When they couldna pay, they had to trade in their winter stores.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand. He doesn’t need their food.”
“No, but by taking it from them, they have no choice but to leave.” His gaze hardened. “Open your eyes, Juliette. He’s stealing these people blind.” His expression grew taut. “And you knew it already, for you were bringing them bread.”
“I had to do something,” she admitted. “But it wasn’t enough. It won’t ever be enough. We hardly have bread ourselves.”
“Then you understand.” He took her hand in his, leading her to stand beside the line of children. “The food would have rotted in his storehouses otherwise. Better to make use of it, where it’s needed.”
Juliette took a deep breath and eyed the stolen goods. “And what if you’re caught?” She traced the edge of the ring, afraid of this side of him. There was a ruthlessness here that she’d only glimpsed a few years ago. It reminded her of how deeply he hated Lord Strathland and of his vow of vengeance.
“I’ll be in Edinburgh. The people can blame it on me, if they want, but they willna let Strathland know where I am. He still believes I’m here, in the north.”
She met his gaze squarely, demanding, “And is this your plan for vengeance? To steal?”
Paul’s mouth tightened. “I’m no’ a thief, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He drew her to stand before the doorway. “I plan to revisit upon him every hardship he’s given to the clansmen and women. He should suffer in this way, knowing hunger as they do.”
She didn’t like the edge in his voice and turned around to face him. “And do you plan to spend the rest of your life stealing from him, taking away everything he owns that has value?” It chilled her to think that his need for revenge went this deep.
“No’ my entire life,” he said, drawing her back behind one of the houses, out of view. “I plan to spend most of my life with you.”
With that, he took her mouth in a kiss that pushed back the edges of her childhood, reminding her that she still belonged to him. Despite all her misgivings, she melted beneath his heated mouth, knowing that there would never be anyone for her like Paul Fraser. She was numb with fear, and yet, she couldn’t stop herself from kissing him back.
This man, her desperate secret that she would keep from her family.
When there were shouts from the crofters, Paul broke free of the kiss. “Stay here,” he warned. “If it’s Strathland or his factor, I want you nowhere close.”
He pressed her back against the wall while he ventured out among the others. Juliette remained in hiding, watching as the men hurried to hide the remainder of the food. Within moments, several men arrived on horseback, and she suspected their leader was Lord Strathland’s factor.
She barely heard what was going on, but the Highlanders had formed a line against the Englishmen. Juliette swallowed hard, her heart pounding within her chest. Someone was going to be hurt, and God help her, she couldn’t let it be Paul.
From the side, she saw another man approaching on horseback. He wore a wool topcoat, and the horse he rode was the finest she’d ever seen. It was Lord Strathland himself. Upon his face, she saw fury, and a man who would voice orders to harm the crofters.
Without knowing why she was emerging from her hiding place, she walked away from the men, directly toward the earl. She kept her steps slow and held tightly to her pelisse, placing a false smile upon her face as she neared Lord Strathland.
Her mother’s instructions came back to her, the rules of polite introduction that she was casting aside by approaching this man. But if she could spare these people from violence, it hardly mattered that there was no chaperone to introduce them.
“My lord,” she greeted him, offering a slight curtsy. Explanations tangled with lies in her brain of why the crofters had sacks of food among them. “I am Juliette Andrews. I believe you know my father, Lieutenant Colonel Andrews.”
