“It was my doing,” she whispered. “Don’t tell Mother. I wrote the letter because he needed somewhere to stay. I didn’t know he was already here—Mr. Sinclair must have found him sooner than I’d thought.”
The apologetic smile on Amelia’s face spoke volumes. Juliette wanted to groan at her sister’s interference, even as she handed her pelisse and bonnet to a footman. She greeted the butler, Mr. Culpepper, and ordered a basin of warm water and soap, as well as bandages.
“There’s no need for bandages,” Dr. Fraser corrected, “but a linen towel will do.”
“What happened to you?” Juliette asked. When Paul removed his coat, she saw that his hands and forearms were stained with blood, as well as his shirt.
Culpepper returned with the footman, who carried in the basin and towel. “Miss Andrews, Dr. Fraser was invited to stay by Lady Lanfordshire’s orders,” the butler explained. “However, I am not certain she would approve of you paying a call, until she has returned. I fear that—”
“Mr. Culpepper, we are well aware of my mother’s invitation. Dr. Fraser is a friend of our family, and naturally, we were concerned when we saw him covered in blood. I assure you, we wanted only to ensure that he is all right,” Amelia intervened. “You may go now.”
The butler clucked over his clothing, and the footman set down the basin and towel. Both retreated, but Juliette didn’t doubt that they were close enough to eavesdrop.
“I spent the morning in the hospital,” he told them. “The blood isna mine.”
She wasn’t aware she’d been holding her breath until she exhaled sharply. He washed away the blood, soaping his hands thoroughly. “Why are you here, Dr. Fraser?”
“Why do you think?” he answered quietly. Juliette glanced behind her at Amelia, but it seemed that her sister had taken the opportunity to slip away, leaving them alone.
“You don’t like the city,” she protested.
“No, but if this is where you’re wanting to live, I’ll find my way.” His tone was entirely serious, making it clear that he was not giving up on her. When she stared into his dark blue eyes, she saw the steady faithfulness of a man who cared.
He rinsed his hands and regarded her. “I lost several years in courting you. I thought that before you decided to refuse me again, you should have me for a suitor before you make that decision.”
Juliette clutched the bundle of violets, and the cheerful purple color evoked memories of when he’d picked wildflowers for her when she was fourteen. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Her gaze traveled to his hands, which he’d soaped and rinsed. Those hands could heal the sick… and she remembered the touch of his fingers against her face.
“You needn’t court me,” she said quietly. But seeing him again made her heart falter. How long had he been here? That he’d already begun working at the hospital suggested at least a few days.
He dried his hands with a towel and then poured more water to wash his face. Water droplets gleamed upon his chiseled face. His dark hair was ragged, half-wild with the need to be trimmed. Her eyes rested upon the exposed skin at his throat, where his shirt collar was carelessly undone.
Her skin flushed at the thought of his bare chest, and she couldn’t seem to shut down her curiosity. If they were alone and she were his wife, she could almost imagine sitting in his lap, unfastening his shirt. Pressing her lips to the pulse at his throat while his hands moved through her hair.
Juliette closed her eyes for a moment, trying to erase her wayward thoughts.
“A fortnight, Juliette. Grant me that at least, for the sake of the friendship we once had.”
It wasn’t a wise idea, not at all. A thousand reasons why she shouldn’t see him were poised at her lips. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to voice them.
You want to see him again,her heart whispered.Because you still care.
It was a truth she wasn’t ready to face. To push the idle thoughts away, Juliette reached out to help him wash away a spot of blood he’d missed. “You shouldn’t have left Scotland for me,” she said gently. “Your heart is there.”
“No. It isn’t.” Paul reached out and lifted her chin. “It’s here.”
The dormant feelings closed over her, despite her attempts to freeze them out. The touch of his hand against her face was a balm to her wounded spirit.
He was watching her with the eyes of a man who had no intention of walking away. The knowledge that he’d journeyed so far for her only deepened her guilt. With every moment she spent at his side, her willpower weakened.
Her mind and heart were at war, but she forced herself to speak the words that needed to be said. “Please don’t ask more of me,” she said. “I can’t give you what you want.”
“You keep asking me to leave you behind,” he murmured. “But you should realize that I’ll ne’er turn my back on you. No’ when you really want me to stay.”
The tears welled up and spilled over. He was so wrong. How would he react if he ever learned the truth?
I’ll ne’er turn my back on you.
Heaven help her, she wished it were true.
