Unraveled By The Rebel

by Michelle Willingham

  She sat back in the chair, feeling at peace. She could pretend for a few minutes that he was hers again, that he need not babble the words “Mum mum mum” to another woman. His hair had the scent of baby, and she savored the comfort of holding him in her arms.

  The sound of a window opening made her rise to her feet in alarm.

  “Don’t be dropping the bairn,” came the voice of Paul Fraser. “It’s only me.”

  Only him? She shrank back, wondering how on earth he’d managed to climb nearly to the third floor of her aunt’s town house. “You could have fallen to your death!”

  He swung his other foot over the sill and closed the window tightly, then the drapes. “I don’t think so, no. Amelia let me inside, and I climbed over from the balcony beside this window. ’Twas no’ difficult.”

  She ought to tell him to leave, for it was not at all a good idea for him to be alone with her in her bedchamber. Juliette risked a glance at the door, wondering if she should say anything.

  Paul only crossed his arms. “Call out, if you like. They’ll only believe that I’ve compromised you. And we both ken where that will lead.”

  Embarrassment flushed over her, along with a prickling rise of anticipation. He was wrong, of course. Her aunt and uncle would not allow him to wed her, even if they did believe he’d compromised her.

  “It’s late, Dr. Fraser,” she said.

  “Very,” he agreed. “Most of the household is asleep.”

  “My sister shares this room with me,” she insisted. “Amelia is going to return.”

  “She promised to grant me time with you. She’s sleeping in Margaret’s room and said she would stay there until morning.”

  Now how on earth had he accomplished that? Her sister was an incurable romantic, but had he simply arrived at the front door and suggested it?

  Paul crossed the room and stood before her. “Give the bairn back to his nurse, Juliette. I’m here for answers, and I’ll leave only when I have them.”

  That much was clear from the dark cast to his face. There was a steely determination in his dark blue eyes, like a man who was weary of waiting on her. And yet, she wasn’t ready to give him the answers she should. She’d been such a coward, trying to avoid everyone and everything.

  But neither could she stand here with a sleeping baby, with a man who had no right to be in her room.

  “Give me a moment,” she said. “Sit down.” She lifted Matthew to her shoulder and opened the door to the hallway. Silently, she took him back to the nursery, handing him over to the nurse. She took her time returning, knowing that Paul would be waiting for her.

  But what could she say to him? Her heart was pounding, simply because he was here. And it was evident that he had no intention of leaving. His presence should have been a threat, and she ought to alert the servants.

  Yet, she knew he would never harm her. He would not lay a hand upon her—he wanted only words. Her pulse quickened when she opened the door, closing it behind her.

  “Lock it,” Paul ordered, and she obeyed. Within the room, the atmosphere grew heavier, almost heated. Gone was the good-natured lad who had spent a summer with her, teaching her to fish and to find her way among the mountains. Gone, too, was the gentleman who had sent her daily letters and danced with her. Now, he stood, a fierce Highlander who would no longer be brushed aside.

  Juliette didn’t know what to say, and as he drew nearer, she found herself sinking into a chair, clasping her hands together.

  “Look at me, Juliette,” he commanded. Then he pulled up a chair across from her. “I’ve finished with playing games. I tried to fit into your world and did a damned fine job of it. The matrons all wanted to wed their daughters to me. But there was only one I wanted.”

  She forced herself to meet his gaze. In his eyes, she saw a hunger so great, it nearly undid her senses. He was angry, not only with her but with the society world surrounding her.

  “You shouldn’t have followed me here,” she admitted sadly. It wasn’t fair, asking him to give up the home he loved, when she had invisible chains that bound her to a spinster’s life.

  “I’ve waited for years, just for the sight of your bonny face again. And time and again, you push me away.” He moved in to cup her cheek. “Tell me now to leave you alone. That you can no’ bear to see me again, and I’ll go.” His hand stroked the edge of her jaw, kindling a longing she had to push back. “You willna see me again, unless you’re wanting to.”

  Juliette held his hand against her cheek, the coldness of fear fighting against the heat he kindled. The idea of not seeing him was painful in a way she didn’t understand. Words tightened in her throat, and she knew she had no choice but to reveal everything.

  “Tell me I mean naught to you,” he said. “Look into my eyes and say it.”

  “It would be a lie.” Against her cheek, she felt the heat of his breath. Every part of her wanted to lean in to him, to lay down her burdens and take the comfort he offered.

  “I’m returning to Scotland within a fortnight,” he said. “And I’m wanting you to come with me.”

  She stole a glance at the door, thinking of her baby. Every moment with him had been a precious gift, to watch him grow older. “I don’t know if I can leave.” She’d done it before, but each day without Matthew had been its own torment.

  “Then you’ll have no choice but to face Strathland,” he said quietly. “Without me to watch over you.”

  Ice slid over her nerves, for he spoke the truth. In the earl’s eyes, she’d seen the obsession of a man who wanted to chase his prey. God help her, she had to avoid him at all costs. If for no other reason than to protect her son from ever learning of his true father.

  “You would do that?” she asked. “Leave me to his manipulations?”

  “It’s you who would choose that, lass. I’ve offered to take you away from London. Time and again, I’ve asked you to wed me. What are you afraid of?”

  “Myself,” she whispered. It was the most honest answer she could give. “I care about you, Paul. I do. But I worry that one day you’ll regret it if I say yes.”

  “You’ll regret it if you don’t say aye,” he predicted, running his hand over the back of her neck. “Why do you no’ try being my wife for a few years? Where’s the harm in it?”

  He wouldn’t be teasing her like this if he knew the truth. She took a breath. “What if I told you… that I don’t want to have any children? Would you still wish to marry me?”

  His hand stopped moving. “I saw you with the bairn earlier, Juliette. And I’d say you do want children. Very much.”

  This wasn’t working at all.

  “What if I told you I didn’t want to share your bed? What if I asked you never to touch me?”

  “Like I did at the cèilidh?” he ventured, his voice growing rough. “You wouldna want my hands upon your skin, tempting you?”

  Blood rose into her flesh, and she felt herself yielding to his words. She could say nothing at all as he kissed the softness of her neck, pulling her against the hard planes of his body.

  Unbidden, her arms went around his neck, welcoming his touch. Her breath shuddered until he pulled back, his eyes holding a searing desire.

  “Strathland will no’ be able to touch you if you’re already wed,” he reminded her. “He’ll have no choice but to find another woman. And from the way his wool empire is crumbling, he’ll need an heiress.”

  She stilled at his words. It was true, what he’d said about Strathland being unable to touch her if she were married. No man could. None, save Paul.

  “If you’re afraid of our marriage bed, I swear to you I’ll no’ touch you until you want me to. You’ll have your freedom to do as you please, and we’ll share a home. Naught else, until you’re ready.”

  The offer struck her speechless. Was he suggesting a celibate marriage?

  She said nothing, studying his face to read beneath his words. “Why would you offer this, Paul?”

  He raked a hand t
hrough his hair. “I shouldna offer it. I ken I should’ve left you long ago, when you told me to go.” His eyes narrowed. “But Strathland took my father from me. Damned if I’ll let him take someone else that I care about.”

  “And what about you? What about your… desires?” she whispered, her face flaming. “How can I ask you to wed someone like me, when you’re giving up so much?”

  He returned to stand before her. “Do you no’ believe you could make a home for us? Could we enjoy our time as man and wife together, until you’re ready for more?”

  I’ll never be ready for more, she thought. But his offer tempted her.

  What would it be like to live with this man? She imagined sharing a home with him, seeing his face each morning. Although the vision of marriage should have made her uneasy, somehow the idea of living with Paul no longer threatened her. He might steal a kiss or touch her the way he had at the cèilidh. But if she asked him to stop, he would. She believed that without question.

  Then, too, marriage to him offered a permanent escape from Strathland. Even if the earl did confess what he’d done, he could never force her into marriage. Not if she was already wed.

  She let out a slow breath. “I need to think, Paul.”

  He stepped back, granting her space. “If you agree, I’ll take you back to Scotland with me. We willna be needing your parents’ consent, or a special license, if we elope.”

  Juliette didn’t ask what would happen if she refused. He would return to Scotland, as he’d said. She was strongly considering saying yes, not only because of the safety it offered… but also because it would leave an emptiness inside her if he left. Her feelings had never dimmed over the years, although she was afraid of reaching for a life with this man. Wanting him this badly was dangerous for both of them.

  And yet, being without him was far worse.

  “I want your answer tomorrow night, at Lady Rumford’s ball,” he told her. “If you come, we’ll announce our betrothal. If you’re not there, I’ll leave for Scotland the next day.”

  With that, he withdrew the silver ring from his pocket and left it on the table before disappearing into the night.

  Chapter Ten

  The following day, Juliette walked alongside her aunt Charlotte in the morning sunshine. She couldn’t stop her smile as she drank in the sight of Matthew, happily swaddled in blankets. He was nearly a year old, and his brown eyes shone with happiness. She loved his rosy soft cheeks and his nonsensical babbling.

  I can’t leave him, she thought to herself.

  There was no denying that her aunt adored her son. Matthew would never want for anything as long as he lived. It should have made it easier to walk away, giving him up to the woman who treasured every breath he took.

  And yet, her heart bled whenever she spent time with them, knowing she could never be his mother.

  “I presume you won’t be attending Lady Rumford’s ball tonight,” her aunt commented. “As we discussed.”

  Juliette hesitated. “I haven’t decided yet.” Although Paul’s offer had been on her mind all night, she did not yet know what her answer would be.

  “There’s nothing to decide,” Charlotte retorted. “We agreed that you would remain behind doors until Strathland is gone.”

  She didn’t know what to say, and decided the truth was easiest. “Dr. Fraser asked me to marry him last night. He wants my answer tonight at the ball.”

  Aunt Charlotte frowned as she passed Matthew over to Juliette to hold. “As I’ve told you before, I think it’s highly inappropriate. You’re a baron’s daughter. You can do far better than a physician.”

  Juliette held the baby close, not surprised by her aunt’s aversion. “And as I told you, it’s my choice to make.”

  Charlotte let out a sigh. “There’s something I don’t understand about him. I know why your uncle and I didn’t expose him, but why has no one else investigated his claim of being a viscount’s heir? All of London loves a good scandal.”

  “Perhaps they had no way to disprove it,” Juliette answered. “And he behaves like a gentleman. No one would know he wasn’t a future viscount.”

  “Be that as it may, I don’t think you should marry him.” She adjusted Matthew’s blanket and dropped her voice to a whisper. “No one knows what happened to you, and you have the chance to start again. Now that His Grace, the Duke of Worthingstone, has sponsored a Season for you, you have so many more choices.”

  No, she didn’t, despite what Charlotte believed. “Who would marry a young woman who doesn’t wish to have children? You know what happened when I went into labor. And there’s only one way to prevent conception.”

  “There are a few elderly men who already have heirs,” Charlotte suggested. “Perhaps a widower.” The flush on her face suggested that she hadn’t truly considered this. And Juliette had no desire to wed a man old enough to be her father.

  She ignored her aunt’s suggestion. “You both know that Lord Strathland will attempt to spread stories about me,” she reminded her aunt. “Stories that will hurt Margaret’s and Amelia’s chances of finding a husband.” Juliette tightened her hold on Matthew. “I won’t let that happen. If marrying Dr. Fraser will prevent the earl from revealing everything, then I shall.”

  She said nothing of her own reasons for wanting to be with him. A marriage to Paul was a grave risk, but he wanted to make her happy. And that was worth something. Her decision was beginning to take shape, even as frightening as the future might be.

  “But why this man? Why not anyone else?” Charlotte insisted.

  “Because I believe him when he says he’ll protect me,” Juliette admitted. When she was near Paul, it felt as if no one could ever harm her. “And I’ve told him I won’t have any children. He loves me enough that it doesn’t matter.”

  Her aunt stopped walking, her face drawn in. “You don’t know for certain that you can’t have more children. It was a difficult birth, but it’s possible—”

  “No. I won’t take the risk.” Too many women died in childbirth. Juliette wasn’t at all eager to be one of them.

  “There are other ways to have children,” her aunt reminded her. “Even if you never bear another yourself.” She touched Matthew’s head, and the silent message wasn’t lost on Juliette. She could take care of an orphaned child, if need be. There were many, many children in need of love.

  “Perhaps,” Juliette agreed.

  Her aunt frowned suddenly, caressing Matthew’s cheek. “Before you agree to wed Dr. Fraser, you need to tell him what happened, Juliette. Not all of it… but enough so that he understands how you were hurt.”

  “And shall I tell him about Matthew?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “No. He must be protected at all costs. Tell Dr. Fraser that your baby died, if you wish.”

  She knew her aunt was right. Before she bound Paul into marriage, he needed the chance to refuse. Likely he thought she was only scared of bedding him. He didn’t know that another pregnancy could cost her life.

  And yet… he’d offered a celibate marriage. For him to agree to such a thing meant that he really did care for her.

  A fragile warmth encircled her as Juliette believed she could truly find a happiness with him. She was weary of being a victim, of feeling as if she didn’t deserve the life she wanted. If Paul were by her side, she could make him happy. And perhaps that would be enough for both of them.

  She held Matthew close, and he nestled beneath her chin, as if to burrow more deeply against her. His baby skin smelled of soap, and the downy hair was soft against her throat. Giving him up had been the hardest thing she’d ever had to do. No matter that he was conceived in a moment of terror, he was a living piece of her heart and always would be.

  She met her aunt’s eyes and saw the sadness within them, as if she wanted to take the baby back from Juliette’s arms. In the end, Charlotte admitted, “Matthew is the greatest gift I’ve ever had.”

  Juliette kissed her son’s head and closed her eyes as she
embraced him. “Thank you for letting me have this time with him.” She feared it might be years before she saw her son again.

  They started walking back, and along the way, Charlotte said, “If a marriage to Dr. Fraser is what you want, I won’t stand in your way. I’ll speak to my sister and do what I can to help you. But you’ll have to wed in Scotland, since you won’t have your father’s permission.”

  “It’s what Paul wants,” she agreed. “To return home to Ballaloch.”

  “But what about what you want?” Charlotte asked.

  “I want to protect my sisters. And if that means leaving London, I shall.”

  “Answer me this, then,” Charlotte prompted. “If Lord Strathland had not come to London, would you still agree to wed Dr. Fraser?”

  She didn’t know the answer to that. The more time she’d spent with Paul, the more she felt like he’d given her back her life. He’d made her realize how much she’d been hiding behind Matthew.

  “Paul wants to make me happy,” she assured her, avoiding a direct answer. “And I think I will be.”

  Her aunt led her along the gravel pathway. “If you do this, you’ll be living a life of poverty. Physicians do not earn as much, and it will not be what you’re accustomed to.”

  “I have no intention of being poor.” Especially now, when she had the sewing business earning such strong profits. She intended to continue her work with Aphrodite’s Unmentionables, even from Ballaloch. Although Victoria still made the design decisions, all of the accounting had fallen to Juliette. She loved the freedom of setting prices and tallying the results of their labor. Perhaps the profits would grow enough, over time, keeping her so busy that she would forget about losing Matthew.

  Just as they reached the end of the path, they saw the Earl of Strathland approaching. The sight of the man made her blood freeze, and her grip tightened upon the baby.

  “Don’t run,” Charlotte warned. “Behave as if there’s nothing at all wrong.”