His fingers just reaching her sash, his hand stilled on her lower back. “You don’t need to know anything, Juliet. I’m handling it. You needn’t concern yourself with it.” He yanked the sash around her right side, grabbed the left side of the fabric from her hand, and then jerked a quick knot into place in front of her belly.
She spun around to him. “Are you handling it? Truly?” She lifted her right arm. “For the gash along my arm would say differently.”
“Your arm has nothing to do with it.”
“No? An arrow almost went through my chest, and you’re telling me not to worry on it? You may not be concerned for my safety, but I now have a healthy fear of getting killed just by walking into a room. You may not want to protect me, but I sure as hell want to protect myself.”
The grey in his eyes darkened into a storm. “Of course I want to protect you, don’t ye dare think otherwise.”
“Then what am I supposed to think?”
“You’re not supposed to think.” His fingers ran through his hair, sending the mussed strands onto end. “That’s the problem. All of this was supposed to be simple and it’s not.”
“Thinking is a problem? Shall I just leave now?” She started toward the door.
Evan reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her progress. “Juliet, stop. The last thing I want is for you to stop your own mind.”
Her feet stilled and she stared over her shoulder at him, silent.
His hand dropped away from her arm. Expelling a long breath, his head shook as he looked to the ceiling. “I swore an oath to my brother that I would never marry. Never sire children. The earldom would be his and his heir’s.”
Her jaw dropped. “You what?”
His gaze dropped to her. “I swore the oath long ago, when we were eight. It was the honorable thing to do and I stick by it.”
She spun toward him, searching his face. “You won’t marry—won’t know the joy of a wife, of children because of an oath you made when you were eight?”
“Aye.”
Her eyes closed for a long breath before she opened them to him. “You were eight.”
“I was right to do it and I stand by that vow. I’ve never wavered from it.”
“You were right to do so?” Her brow furrowed. “How? Why?”
“Gilroy should have been first-born. He has every right to the earldom.”
“But—”
“No. No buts. It is the way of things, Juliet.” His look skewered her, stealing her words.
A sharp period. End of conversation.
She’d wanted to know, and now she did. He wasn’t going to give her more.
All of the oddness she’d felt since arriving at Whetland fell into place. Gilroy’s anger. The lost babe. The threat she posed.
Hell. He needed to know. Needed to know what Ness told her. Needed to know who his brother truly was.
Her fingers curled into her palms as she suffered his glare and she heaved a breath. “Your brother means to be rid of me by any means possible, Evan. Ness heard him say that very thing.”
“What?” His eyes opened wide. “No. He knows this betrothal is a farce.”
Her left hand flew up into the air. “And I’m sure he also knows we’ve shared a bed every single night I’ve been here. Coupling could very well mean a babe and he damn well knows that fact.”
“No. He wouldn’t harm ye.” His hands rose to her to calm. “No—not on purpose. That arrow was an accident. Gil doesn’t have it in him to hurt another.”
She took a step closer to him, her stare meeting his eyes not wavering as she leaned in, her words punctuated. “He does.”
Evan shook his head, taking a step back, his words a growl. “Don’t disparage my brother, Juliet.”
She wasn’t about to let him escape her. “I’m not disparaging him, I’m telling you the truth of him. You’re blinded by love, by guilt—I don’t know by what—but you’re blind.”
“I’m not blind. I see very well the reality of what is in front of me.” The thunder in his voice shook the air around her. “And what I see right now is you trying to turn me against my brother.” His glare pinned her. “It won’t work.”
“Not even for your grandfather? You won’t even think of him in all this? He thinks that you’re inheriting everything—that you’re the one that is to bring the legacy of him, of your forefathers forward. You’re lying to him. Lying to the one person you claim to care about the most.” Her eyes closed as her hand splayed across her brow, her head shaking. She opened her eyes to him, her voice soft. “And if that isn’t being blind—hurting the person you love the most for some idiot oath uttered long ago, then I don’t know what is. You’re martyring yourself to misplaced honor.”
“You don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
Her eyes locked onto his. “Enlighten me.”
Silence.
“Exactly.” She exhaled a long sigh. “So let me just do what you’re paying me to do.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“Finish endearing myself to your grandfather so I can go home.”
She turned and left the room, her steps heavy.
{ Chapter 20 }
Evan followed Juliet into the solarium to gather their morning plates. At his grandfather’s request, he and Juliet had fallen into a pattern the last several days, filling their breakfast plates and then bringing them into the library to enjoy their morning meal with the earl.
No matter their argument a half hour ago before they had gone to their rooms to put fresh clothing on, they had walked down the main staircase together, the farce of the besotted betrothed firmly in place for benefit of his grandfather.
A small grace for how Juliet had looked at him in the east tower. Her glare could have melted steel, for how she’d wanted to skewer him for his idiocy.
But she knew nothing about the oath he’d sworn to his brother. What it meant to him. How he’d lived his whole life by it. There was no way for her to understand it.
Following her into the solarium, Evan’s stare centered on the back of the chignon she’d quickly pinned her hair into and he wasn’t ready for her to abruptly stop in front of him. He rammed into the back of her.
His hands immediately flew out, grabbing her and pulling her upright to standing before she stumbled.
He looked up and saw instantly why she’d halted.
His multitude of cousins and six of their wives dotted amongst the mass of them lined the far wall of windows, the shoulders three deep in some places. Gilroy stood at the far end of the line, glaring, his mouth tight, pulled to the side.
And in the center of the line of them, his grandfather stood.
Stood.
Tall, proud, and in his finest kilt and full plaid of green, red and black.
He hadn’t worn those clothes in ten years.
All of them. All of his cousins in their finest.
Juliet half turned, looking over her shoulder at him.
Panic. Sheer panic in her eyes.
Evan set his hands on her shoulders and gave her a slight squeeze meant to be reassuring before he moved past her and set himself in front of the earl. “Grandfather, what are you doing in the dining room? And dressed? You should be resting. You know how tired ye get after the morning meal.”
“No. Not today, my lad.” His gnarled left hand lifted from his cane and he waved it in the air. “I want to see it, Ev.”
Evan glanced at his many cousins watching him, his look resettling on his grandfather. “See what?”
“Ye get married. I have the clergyman here and ready. What else do ye think your cousins would gather like this for?”
Evan’s jaw dropped, not a word able to form on his tongue.
Juliet’s sudden presence was beside him, her arm hooking into the crook of his elbow as the side of her pressed into him.
“Married? Today, my lord?” Her voice was poised—uncannily composed. “No. We cannot do this.”
“There be no g
ood reason why not, lass,” his grandfather said.
“It is my family—my dear sister.” Her head tilted to the side in utter disappointment. “I was planning on them attending the wedding. They were so looking forward to it—my sister has talked of nothing else for the last month.”
The earl clunked the bottom of his cane into the flagstone. “Nonsense. Ye can marry here, then have a proper English wedding the next time ye travel south of the border. Your sister will get her grand wedding to attend in a few weeks.”
“Excuse us for a moment, Grandfather.” Evan spun about, throwing his arm along Juliet’s shoulders and he ushered her back out the door of the solarium.
He stopped them just outside the door.
Still within view of his grandfather, he positioned his body to block her away from the many eyes on them, but then spun her toward him so he could see her face. See what was really storming in her eyes.
Panic—frantic panic in her blue eyes.
It hit him oddly in the chest. The fear in her eyes. Fear at having to marry him.
He’d never even insinuated such a possibility was to happen, yet he didn’t care for her instant aversion to the thought.
Turning slightly to the side with the show of an easy smile on his face for his grandfather, he leaned down and set his lips by her ear, his voice a whisper. “We can divorce after this—we’re in Scotland, it is doable.”
Her eyes went wide, her breath catching in her throat and she coughed. She turned her head so her words were directly into his ear. “You want me to actually do this? You never said anything about the possibility of this.”
He nodded, the phony smile cut hard across his face as he whispered back to her. “I didn’t know—I never would have imagined he’d do this. That he even made it into his best clothes and into here—that he had the strength to arrange this, much less demand it—I never would have thought it possible.”
She reached up and grabbed his arm, squeezing it. “Yet here it is.”
“You’re right.” He shook his head. “This goes too far—I will tell him. Tell him of the ruse.” Evan stood straight, letting the smile dissolve from his face as he ushered them back into the room and stopped the both of them in front of his grandfather.
The earl looked to Juliet. “Juliet, ye have no objections to the wedding?” He looked at her for less than a second, then slammed the tip of his cane onto the stone before she could answer. “Splendid. Let us commence the ceremony.” He looked to Evan.
Evan braced himself. “Grandfather, I cannot—”
Juliet’s sudden hand on his chest stopped his words and she stepped in front of him. “We cannot thank you enough for arranging this. We’re delighted to have this done.”
The earl laughed, jabbing his cane into the floor with glee. “Excellent. Let’s get to it.”
He shuffled to the side and motioned to the clergyman that stood at the far side of the solarium.
The ceremony only took minutes.
Minutes where Evan could feel himself outside of his body, watching what was happening, but in no way able to stop it.
The numb disbelief deep in Juliet’s stormy eyes, her hand gripping his as though he was the only thing holding her back from dropping over a cliff, told him she felt much the same way. A wave had caught them, sucking them out to sea with not even a shred of a board to grasp onto.
Man and wife.
And that was it. Married.
With cheers all about them, his grandfather was the first to shuffle to Evan’s side, his hand slapping onto Evan’s shoulder. Evan glanced about the room. Gilroy had disappeared before the ceremony was over.
“Well done, dear lad.” His look shifted onto Juliet and he moved in front of her, bending to set a kiss on her cheek. “And you, lass. I didn’t think ye would go through with it.” He patted her cheek. “I can die a happy man, now.”
Her eyes narrowed at him. “You’re a wily one, you know that?”
“I do.” A wide smile cracked the earl’s face in two. “Like I said, these eyes may be old, but they don’t miss much.” He glanced up at Evan, his gnarled finger wagging between them. “Now I just have to stay alive until you and Ev realize ye belong together.”
With that, the rush of cousins descended on them with congratulations, drowning out the earl. Before Evan could blink, they were swept into a long day of revelry, Juliet pulled away from him by the small faction of wives.
Both of them thrust out to sea, still with nothing solid to grasp a hold of.
{ Chapter 21 }
“At least sneaking you to and fro between the bedrooms will no longer be necessary.” Evan set his boots next to hers by the door of his chamber.
Juliet chuckled as Evan went to the small table in the corner of the room, the sound uncharacteristically nervous from her lips. She was a master at lighthearted banter. But this…she had no idea what to do with this.
A marriage.
Even if it was to be short-lived.
He poured whisky into one glass and a reddish concoction she’d never seen before into the other glass on the table. Turning around to her, he lifted the red-filled glass to her.
“What is it?” She had more than enough glasses of wine today during the celebration that was still going on several levels below them. Any more and she would start doing and saying things she would surely regret.
The right side of his face lifted in a half smile. “I’ve seen how you cringe every time ye sip the whisky—so this has been cut by a sweet blackberry syrup. Hopefully, it’ll be more to your palate.” He lifted the glass to her in salute. “You didn’t have to do what you did today, Juliet, but you did. And it meant the world to my grandfather. I’ve not seen such strength in him in ages.”
She took the glass from him and took a sip. Heaven. The whisky now a gentle waterfall down her throat instead of a trail of fire. She swirled her glass and took another sip just to make sure the whisky wasn’t just hiding at the bottom, ready to bite.
Her fingers went to her lips and she looked up at Evan. “This is good.”
He nodded. “I’m glad. I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out.”
That he’d even noticed she gagged slightly at straight whisky or brandy was unsettling. Though it shouldn’t surprise her. Evan watched her, studied her, just the same as she did to him.
She cleared her throat, the question that had been on her mind for hours aching to be asked at the tip of her tongue. “You said there are ways out of this marriage?” She didn’t know the specific laws of Scottish weddings—something she maybe should have asked for more information about before uttering “I do.”
A flash of apprehension crossed his grey eyes, disappearing before she was sure she read it correctly.
An easy smile quickly lined his lips as he nodded and took a sip of his drink. “Aye, I did not lie to you. There are several grounds of divorce, adultery or desertion being the prominent choices. You’ll be able to file for either against me, and I will not fight you on it. We can explore annulment if one of us has lied about our persons. Any way we move forth, I’ll do everything to ensure you will walk away the most unscathed.”
Her lips pulled into a frown and she nodded. “I see.”
He stepped closer to her, his fingers lifting and trailing along one of the loose tendrils of hair that had fallen beside her face hours ago. “All that said, I don’t know what to do with ye, lass.”
The sparks of blue in his grey eyes were suddenly alive, dancing about with heat as he stared down at her. Sparks she recognized full well that sent carnal pangs to vibrate from her core.
Her tongue quickly losing moisture, she lifted her hand in-between them and took another sip of her drink. “You don’t know because why?”
His hand left her hair and moved to her cheek, his fingertips skimming along her skin, the softest petal of a touch. “Because you—you make me want things I should not.”
She swallowed hard, words she didn’t want to speak bubbl
ing forth from her gut against all her intentions. For how much her mind railed against the words, her body and heart had very different opinions on the matter.
Her lips parted, her voice splintering. “As you do for me.”
Ever so slowly, his head bent to hers and he kissed her. Gentle, hesitating, curious, until he got whatever answer he wanted from the kiss.
He pulled up slightly from her lips, his breath a soft caress across her skin. “So what do we do about it?”
“I don’t know.” Her eyes opened to him, truly at a loss.
“I don’t either.” He gave a slight shake of his head, looked to step away, but then his head dropped, his lips finding her neck, tasting her and sending all her nerves to spike. “But this…this seems right. It always does. ’Tis too hard stepping away from you even when I ken I should.”
Her head stretched to the side, giving him better access to her neck, and she exhaled breath she didn’t know she held. “Too right. And that is the problem.”
“Does it need to be a problem?” The low words vibrated along the nerves on her neck.
She wasn’t sure now was the time to be honest, not with her hands already slipping under the lapels of his tailcoat, tugging it off of him. Unbuttoning his waistcoat. He’d told her how they could divorce—given her the keys to leave. She could always walk away, just as planned. But she didn’t need to walk away tonight.
Her hips leaning into him, she wrapped her arm about his head. “No. Not a problem. Not tonight. Not in this moment.”
His hands were already working free the ribbons along the back of her dress, loosening it as his mouth trailed further downward. Her sleeves, her bodice disappearing from her skin and he freed her breasts to the air, his mouth clamping onto her right nipple, his tongue swirling.
She buckled slightly at the pangs of pleasure shooting down to her core. How he could do that, send her folds to pounding, pushing her to the edge of coming with just a few swipes of his tongue was the work of the devil.
Wicked Exile (An Exile Novel Book 2) Page 14
