“It would no’ be a good idea.” Not when he was so aroused by her.
“We’ll only talk,” she said. “That’s all.”
“I’d rather talk over here.”
Juliette eyed him for a moment, then shook her head. “If you won’t come to me, then I’ll come to you.” She tugged one of the sheets and wrapped it around her, walking to him barefoot. The sight of her made him feel even more uneasy, for fear that he would lose command of his senses.
“You’re hurting,” she said softly. “And I don’t know how to ease you.”
“It will pass,” he said. “There’s naught to be done.”
She brought her arms around him from behind, pressing her face to his back. “The last thing I wanted was to cause you pain. And I just thought I could—”
“It burns me that he took you like that,” he shot out, before he could stop himself. “That he hurt you and made it so you can’t ever be joined with a man again.” He turned around and faced her, knowing that the words he spoke were a mistake. And yet he couldn’t stop them. “He had you in a way I never will. And it’s like acid in my veins.”
She looked stricken at what he’d said. Tightening the sheet around her, she whispered, “I wish I had never gone walking alone that day. I should have taken Mr. MacKinloch or someone—anyone—with me. I thought it was safe.”
“It wasna your fault, Juliette. But I canna help wishing I could murder him for it.”
She folded her arms across her waist. “It isn’t that I don’t want to be a true wife to you, Paul.” Her face reddened, and her hands clenched into fists. “I believe that… it would have been good. And I can’t imagine a better man to be a father.”
He let her speak, though he was frustrated by a past he couldn’t change. “Who told you that you couldna bear another child?”
“The midwife,” she admitted. “I bled so much, and afterward, the fever took me. She advised me to never have a second child, or I would die.” She reached up to touch his face, and her cool fingers quieted the storm of frustration within him. “I can’t take that risk.”
And well he knew that there was nothing that would fully prevent conception, save celibacy.
She was quiet for a long moment, as if considering it. “You said yourself… that there were other ways of being together.”
But not in the way he wanted her most. Paul let out a sigh and took her hand, leading her back to bed. He removed his shirt and waistcoat, sitting beside her. “Go back to sleep.”
“I’ll sleep when you lie down beside me.” Her voice was soft, almost inviting. It killed him not to go to her and hold her in his arms. But if he dared to set one foot inside her bed, he would want too much from her. She tempted him far more than he could endure.
Paul touched her hair and covered her up with the blanket. Without another word, he squeezed her hand and left.
A voice inside made him wonder if she’d been right… that he would one day regret this marriage.
Chapter Fourteen
“There are other daughters,” Sarah reminded Brandon. “Miss Amelia Andrews and Miss Margaret Andrews are still unwed.”
Brandon ignored her suggestion. “Amelia is only sixteen, and Margaret is nearly on the shelf at one-and-twenty. I’ve no wish to marry either of them.”
“Then you must give up this notion of acquiring their land,” Sarah said. “Let it go.”
Perhaps he should. And yet, he loathed the idea of the Andrews family living so close to him. He wanted to command all of the western Highlands, increasing his fortunes tenfold. But more than that, it was a matter of pride. He was a man of means, one who ought to have half a dozen heirs running about.
Or at least one heir. He remained unconvinced about the child he’d seen and had sent inquiries to find out more about the boy. If there was any hint that the child could be of his blood, he fully intended to reveal the boy’s illegitimacy and take him.
It infuriated him that Juliette had eloped with Dr. Fraser. The little bitch had ignored her opportunity to wedhimand had instead chosen a physician with hardly two coins to his name. He couldn’t imagine why. Brandon could give her everything. And she’d chosen a man who was a continual thorn in his side.
Now he knew that Fraser was the mysterious viscount who had talked to the wool buyers. He didn’t believe it was possible that the man could inherit a title. The doctor had to be telling falsehoods, for he’d been born in poverty and lived in filth all his life. Lies never changed a man’s blood.
Fraser mistakenly believed that he could influence the men not to buy wool from Brandon. And the Duke of Worthingstone had also joined in Fraser’s efforts to bring down his empire.
It would make no difference. Wool was in high demand, due to the war and the need for uniforms. Brandon had all that was necessary, and when some of the buyers refused him, he’d arranged for the wool to be sold under a different name. If his men took the fleeces, they could lie when necessary, and gain the necessary profits. It wasn’t difficult.
Let them try to end his fortune, and he would see to it that Paul Fraser was brought to ruin.
