“Yes, my husband is a viscount. He inherited the title when his uncle died this past spring, but he’s still a physician. He went to tend the wounded, and one of the men died a few days ago.” She shivered, though both of them had known the inevitable. “He comes home late at night and hasn’t spoken to our parents yet.”
“Tell him to be careful,” Victoria advised. She sobered, adding, “My husband had to return to London, since he’s been neglecting his duties at the House of Lords. He doesn’t know about the shootings or Lord Strathland’s return.” Her face turned dark, with a warning look. “And you aren’t going to tell him, either.”
“Toria, you shouldn’t stay here,” Juliette argued. “Something might happen to you and the baby.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” the duchess insisted, shuddering at the thought. “I’ve finished with traveling, and I intend to stay here in Scotland until my child is born. Parliament will be out of session by the end of the summer, and His Grace will be back long before the birth.”
“But what about Lord Strathland?” Juliette asked. “Don’t you think he’ll be a threat to you?”
Victoria shook her head. “Not if he wants to continue selling his wool in the years to come. My husband has spoken to the buyers, along with your husband.” She added, “Strathland hasn’t ventured near the house or me. And he won’t. He’s angry at the crofters, not us.”
“I still don’t think it’s safe,” Juliette insisted. Although her sister was deeply afraid of going outside, she wished Victoria would leave Scotland.
“Ever since the shootings, I’ve ordered our men and some of the crofters to patrol the borders of our land. Strathland’s men have trespassed a few times, but we’ve kept them back.” Victoria’s expression remained calm. Her hand moved to her swollen womb, and her face softened as if she felt a light kick. “By the time His Grace returns, I’m confident there will be no danger at all.”
Juliette didn’t believe that, but neither did she want to upset her sister by saying so. To change the subject, she asked, “Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?”
As she’d hoped, Victoria smiled. “It doesn’t matter at all. Whether it’s a boy or a girl, I can’t wait to hold my baby in my arms.”
The swollen ache in Juliette’s heart reared up again. She didn’t know if she would ever hold Matthew again. The more time she spent away from him, the more she missed him.
“You’ll hold your child soon enough,” she told Victoria, trying to keep the thickness of tears from her voice. “Now, if you’ll forgive me, I need to return home and talk to Father about Paul. Tonight, he should be finished with all the wounded.”
“Is the Colonel being difficult again?”
Juliette nodded. “At first, he tried to put us in bedrooms on opposite sides of the house, until Mother intervened. When I told him of our marriage, he was furious. He said he would annul it because I was under the age of consent.”
“He can’t annul the marriage,” Victoria pointed out. “It’s not an English marriage. Furthermore, it’s been consummated.”
She nodded. “I know. Mother is trying to make him see reason, but he seems appalled at the idea of me sleeping with a man, even if he is my husband.”
“He still believes we’re perpetually six years old,” Victoria said, sighing. “When he saw me pregnant, he turned bright red and started coughing into his handkerchief. I thought he would have an apoplectic fit right there.”
Juliette smiled at the thought of their father’s embarrassment. “I imagine he wanted to.” Rising to her feet, she thanked her sister for the refreshments. “I should go, before Paul returns home.”
Before she could leave, Victoria stopped her. “Thank you for coming to see me, Juliette. I’ve missed you so much.” With a soft smile, she added, “And I think youaregoing to have a baby. There’s something different about you.”
Fear choked up inside her, but Juliette tried to paste a false smile on her face. “Perhaps.”
She could only pray that her sister was wrong.
Chapter Seventeen
He’d saved six of the men. Besides the one who had bled out, another crofter had died of blood poisoning. His mother had been unable to get the bullets out, but Paul felt as if he’d battled Death and won. He’d hardly slept at all in three days. And yet, his mind and body were strung so tight, his awareness was honed to an edge.
The evening had begun to wane, the golden light fading into the purple of night. He’d taken a horse this day, and it felt good to ride along the edges of the duke’s land, trying to release the tension. He wished Juliette were here now so he could ride with her, taking her into the mountains so he could lay her down on the grass.
Though he’d come to her each night, she’d been asleep, her body curled inward. He hadn’t touched her at all, and he’d left before dawn each morning.
Her father hadn’t been pleased to learn that they’d wed. Lord Lanfordshire hadn’t raged or made threats. Instead, he’d gone quiet, his disapproval a palpable thing on the rare occasion when their paths had crossed.
It wasn’t about money or rank. No, despite his inheritance, the baron seemed to see past the new wealth to the crofter’s son who was more comfortable as a physician than a nobleman. A viscount would never soil his hands in the way Paul had. But the title was just that to him—a word. Not a social barrier that prevented him from helping others. He didn’t know if Juliette’s father would ever come to accept him. Or if that even mattered anymore.
He drew his horse to a stop at Eiloch Hill, on the outskirts of the duke’s residence. A large tree was dense with foliage, its thick branches casting shadows upon the ground. His father had died here, upon this hill.
So many times, Paul wished he could go back and undo the choices he’d made as a lad. One reckless night had ended all of it. Were it not for his father’s sacrifice, it would have beenhisbody swinging from that tree.
He dismounted and climbed up the hillside, his steps heavy with regret. When he reached the thick oak tree, he touched the rough bark with one palm. And he imagined his father’s hand upon his shoulder, Kenneth speaking to him in a deep voice.
