“I’m sorry, Lina,” Fitzwilliam said quietly. “I should have realized something was amiss when I didn’t hear from you again after I received your first few letters, but I’ve been quite preoccupied, I’m afraid. Selfishly so.”
Juliana drew her hands into her lap, pressing them tightly together to hide their trembling. “Grace and I need you, Fitzwilliam. We need you to do this for us.”
“Oh, my beloved girl.” Fitz strode over to her, and knelt beside her chair. “If there was any way for me to help you, any way at all, you know I would, but…”
But…
That one tiny word sent Juliana’s last hope crashing to the ground.
Fitzwilliam grasped her hands in his, his eyes pleading for her to understand. “I wrote to you when I received Lord Madsen’s letter about your betrothal to Lord Pierce, but you never replied.”
Never replied? How could he say that? She’d written him letter after letter! He’d been the one who’d never replied. Unless…
Juliana’s gaze shot to Logan Blair, and a dark suspicion rose in her breast as she gazed at that broad back. Had he taken all of the letters she’d written to Fitz and burned them?
All this time—weeks, months—had Fitzwilliam not seen any but the first few letters she’d written him? There’d been dozens. How many of them had been consigned to the flames at the Sassy Lassie, with Fitzwilliam none the wiser? Just the one? A dozen? Had Mr. Blair read them? If he had and was aware of her predicament, then he must be the wickedest, coldest man she’d ever encountered. If he hadn’t, then he would be made to understand right here and now what grievous harm he’d done with his tricks.
“When I didn’t receive any letters from you, I considered our betrothal to be at an end. I’m…this is more difficult for me than you can ever imagine, Lina, but I did write to you before I…to tell you…”
Juliana gazed down at him, into his clear blue eyes, and that was when she knew. She shook her head, as if by doing so she could make it not be true. “No. Don’t say it. Please don’t say it.”
His fingers tightened around hers. “I can’t marry you, Lina, because…because I’m betrothed to someone else.”
Chapter Five
“Dear God, I’ve made a dreadful mistake.”
Lady Juliana pulled away from Fitz. She wandered over to the window and stood looking out into the darkness, her arms wrapped around herself.
“We’ll find a way, Lina, I promise you.” Fitz took a few steps toward her, but stopped when she didn’t turn around to face him.
Logan watched her reflection in the window. She kept her back to them, and he could see her struggling to compose her face. When she turned at last she was alarmingly pale, but her chin was high, and her voice steady. “I’m sorry, Fitzwilliam. I should have remained in Surrey. I must have been mad, coming here, but I thought if I…well, it hardly matters now.”
She thought if she came to Castle Kinross, Fitz would marry her. No doubt he’d promised as much in his earliest letters to her.
Logan wasn’t a man much given to regrets, but he’d had to look away from the despair on Lady Juliana’s face when Fitz told her he was betrothed to another lady.
Perhaps she loved him. It stood to reason. They’d known each other since they were children, and there was no mistaking the tender affection between them. Perhaps Fitz had broken her heart, or perhaps her despair had more to do with this strange business regarding the child, Grace.
One thing was certain. It had nothing to do with Lady Juliana aspiring to become a duchess. He’d been wrong about that. He’d been wrong about a number of things.
Would it have made any difference if hehadread her letters to Fitz? If he’d known there was a great deal more at stake than an English belle’s fortune and a title? Logan wanted to believe it would have—that he would have been more careful with those letters—but he knew damn well whatever decision he’d made would have been in the clan’s best interest, not Lady Juliana’s.
He couldn’t pretend otherwise, not even to himself.
It was useless to ask the question now. Logan hadn’t read any but that last letter Lady Juliana had written to Fitz, the one he’d read today. He’d burned the rest without opening them. Maybe there was a part of him that had wanted to believe he was somehow less of a villain if he didn’t read them.
“I left poor Stokes at the Sassy Lassie in Inverness without a word of explanation.” Lady Juliana tried to smile. “He’ll be worried about me. I’ll return tonight to set his mind at ease, and we can be back on the road to London early to—”
“No.” Fitz hurried across the room to her, alarmed. “Lina, I won’t let you leave like this.”
Lady Juliana appeared not to hear him. “I promised Lord Arthur I’d be back at Graystone Court within a month, before he and my father return from Bath. I have very little time.”
“Lina, please—”
“You’re not going anywhere tonight.” Logan had remained quiet all evening, but he wasn’t any more willing to let Lady Juliana tear off into the night than Fitz was. “You’ve been riding all day. You’re exhausted, and it’s too dark to make that journey.”
Fitz looked between Logan and Lady Juliana, his face puzzled. “How do you know how long she’s been riding?”
