Numbers, ink, and paper were her dearest companions now. She would grow old, her fingers stained with the written numbers that accounted for her family’s earnings. Her heart was frozen over so that she would never feel the broken edges that remained.
Juliette took comfort from the decisions she’d made. She would not dwell upon the nightmares of the past or the mistakes. Nor would she allow one sinfully handsome Highlander to unravel all of her carefully laid plans.
Her heart had already been broken. And so help her God, she would hold fast to her secrets so that he would turn away from her and find a woman worthy of his love.
For it could never, ever be her.
Paul fingered the hat in his hands and set it down outside the barn door. Juliette had retreated farther inside, her hands resting against one of the stalls as if to steady her thoughts. Though he didn’t speak a word to her, she glanced up when he entered.
“You followed me.” Her expression held traces of resignation. “I was afraid you would.”
It wasn’t exactly an encouraging greeting. “I came to watch over you, not to bother you.” He studied her, sensing that this would be one of those conversations where not a single word he spoke would be the right one.
“I’m all right, really.” She nodded toward the door, as if hoping he’d leave.
Beneath her mask of indifference, he knew there was more to this. For weeks now, he’d tried to see her, and she’d stubbornly refused. Now, she was a stranger to him. In the evening light, she appeared more fragile. Almost as if she’d forgotten how to laugh.
“It was kind of you to watch over me,” she said. “But I just needed a moment alone.” She tucked a strand of fallen brown hair behind one ear and eyed the door as if she wished he’d walk through it.
But Paul had no intention of leaving. Not yet. He took a step forward and eyed the horse stalls. “I must tell you, this wasna how I imagined seeing you again.”
“It’s been a long time.” Her voice was cool, as if she were anxious for him to go. And damn it all, he couldn’t think of why she’d come to dislike him so. All he’d done was ask her to marry him.
“You should go, Dr. Fraser,” she advised. “I’m certain your friends will be missing you.”
Your friends.As if she weren’t one of them? Then, too, she was calling himDoctor,instead of using his name. Aye, her desire for distance was perfectly clear, though he didn’t know why. He hadn’t seen her in years, and he doubted if he’d offended her during the ten minutes he’d been in her presence.
If she were any other woman, he’d think she was playing games. But then, Juliette had never been that sort. She’d always been steadfast and honest.
“Wewere friends once,” Paul reminded her. “Or has that changed, since I left to study medicine?” He crossed his arms and waited for an answer. If she didn’t want him any longer, then he’d go.
Beneath the guise of indifference, he caught a glimpse of fear. She was trying to remain calm, to behave as if nothing had changed. But there were shadows beneath her eyes, a frailty to her pale skin.
Juliette walked closer to him and stared for a long moment. “I don’t know what we are anymore.” Her voice held years of regret. “But you shouldn’t be here alone with me. It’s not proper.”
“Now you sound like your sister Margaret. Not the girl who used to climb trees with me.” Paul took a step closer, watching to see if she truly meant it.
She didn’t retreat but instead stood her ground, repeating, “I said you should go.”
“So you did.” And he would, as soon as he had the answers he wanted. He’d always trusted his instincts, and there was something about her demeanor that belied her words.
Slowly, he reached out to take her hands, bringing them to rest upon his chest. It was a test to see if she would consider him a threat. Her gloved fingers were small, but when he released them, she didn’t pull away. Instead, her palms covered his beating heart. There was heartbreak in her eyes, as if she drew comfort from the touch. It took every ounce of restraint not to pull her into his arms and hold her tight.
After they’d grown so close through years of letters, he’d made his desires known. And although his prospects were uncertain, he wanted her to know that he would take care of her. “You’ve been avoiding me since I returned to Scotland.”
“I was in London,” she argued.
“You refused to see me when I paid a call on you.”
“That was my mother.” She shook her head. “I didn’t know you’d come until she’d already turned you away.”
“Would you have wanted to see me?”
For a moment, her expression held a yearning that nearly stopped his heart. Her hands moved slightly against his skin, and she closed her eyes. She’d been about to say yes. He was sure of it.
A brittle look flashed over her face before she veiled it. “We hardly know one another anymore. It’s been too many years.”
“Did you forget what there was between us?” His hand moved to the curve of her cheek, and fear welled up in her green eyes. She looked as if she wanted to flee but didn’t. A blush colored her cheeks, and he could see that she hadn’t forgotten. It was in her eyes and in the way she wasn’t shoving him back, telling him she didn’t care a whit.
