The voice of reason told him to leave her be and let go of the past. But his stubborn heart wouldn’t relent. Not yet.
The bride tossed her ice-blue silk bonnet over the railing, and it landed in Juliette’s arms. She stared at the bonnet as if it were a poisonous snake, and the cheers from the wedding guests were deafening.
“You’ll be the next to marry!” The housekeeper beamed. “Isn’t that wonderful, lass?”
But Juliette did not appear pleased at all. Instead, her face had gone white, as if she’d been chosen for her own execution.
Before Paul realized what was happening, the bridegroom had tossed his hat over the top of the railing. It was about to fall into the hands of one of his kinsmen, and Paul seized it before the man could lay claim to it.
He knew what the token meant, and this was a means of speaking with her, of finally learning why she was refusing to see him. But as he moved through the crowd of people, he stopped before her and saw more than he’d expected.
The young woman standing before him was no longer the same Juliette he’d known. Paul could see it in the way she stared off into the distance, her mind distracted. To a stranger, she might appear like any other woman… calm and composed.
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.
Hewas 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.
