Page 103 of To Wed a Wild Scot
“Did you just call me an eejit?” Logan asked her. He looked stunned.
“I did, because you are! Of course, I wanted to come to Scotland with you! Grace and I both did, didn’t we, Grace?”
Grace nodded, eyes wide.
“Even now we might be having a delightful time if you hadn’t made such a mess of things, but you had to ruin it over that business with Lord Cowden!” Juliana snatched her arm free of his grip. “You didn’t evenwantus to come!”
She sucked in a hard, painful breath. Those words felt as if they’d been dragged from the deepest part of her, torn loose from the very depths of her soul. As soon as she said them she recognized them at once as the deepest of the wounds inside her.
Did Logan even want them here? If she hadn’t given Rosemount to Lord Cowden, would they be with him now? Logan had said only she washis, and he took care of what was his. He hadn’t said a single word about her and Grace coming to Scotland with him until after Juliana gave up Rosemount.
He hadn’t said a single word about love.
“Lord Cowden?” Alison McLaren was watching the scene unfold with an open mouth. “Who’s Lord Cowden?”
Neither Juliana nor Logan answered her. They were too focused on each other to pay any attention to anything else.
Logan took her arm again, his fingers tighter this time. “You should never have gone to Cowden in the first place! You had no business risking yourself like.Mo Dhia, every time I think of you alone in a room with him…why did you do it, Ana?”
“I told you why. I wanted it over! He was never going to let it end!”
“So, you ended it for us. But why Rosemount, Juliana? Of all the properties you could have offered him, why did you give him that one?”
He already knew why. Juliana could see the knowledge in his face, but for the first time she realized she needed to say it aloud, that too many doubts hid in their silences. “Because he knew it would hurt me to give it to him. He was never going to be satisfied until he hurt someone, and so I—I let him hurt me.”
He stared down at her, his blue eyes wild. “Why? Why should it have to be you?”
Juliana was horrified to feel tears pricking at her eyes. Not because she’d lost Rosemount. That hurt, yes, but not nearly as much as Logan was hurting her right now. How could he not see she’d done it for him? After all they’d been through, how could he not understand she wanted to protect him as much as he wanted to protect her?
The words gathered in her throat, but they were slow, so slow, to come to her lips. When they made it at last her voice was so soft she wasn’t sure if Logan could even hear her. “So it wouldn’t be you. It had to be me, Logan, so it wouldn’t beyou.”
Silence. The longest silence Juliana had ever lived through. She couldn’t bear to look into Logan’s eyes, so she lowered her gaze to the floor. The tears that had gathered in her eyes spilled onto her cheeks.
No crying. Not here, not now…
Gentle fingers touched her chin. Logan raised her face to his, and the tenderness in his blue eyes stopped her breath.
* * * *
It had to be me, so it wouldn’t be you.
Logan gazed down into the green eyes he loved so well, his heart thundering in his chest. His wee wife was stronger than anyone he’d ever known. So strong she could take care of him when he wasn’t strong enough to take care of himself.
All he had to do was let her.
How could he not have understood that until now? How could he ever have thought his love for her made him weak? It wasn’t weakness to turn yourself over, body and soul, to the person you loved. It wasn’t weakness to trust them to take care of you.
His love for her didn’t make him weaker. It made him stronger.
His strengthcamefrom her, just as surely as hers came from him. He’d never been stronger in his life than he was since he’d fallen in love with her. He was astounded by her—in awe of her. It struck him then, what Fitz had told him weeks ago, when Juliana had first come to Castle Kinross.
She’s everything a man could want in a wife…
She was everything he could ever want, and more—so much more—than he deserved.
But he’d keep her for himself, no matter whether he deserved her or not. He’d keep her locked tightly in his arms, and thank God every day for her.
“Ana.Mo ghaol,mo cridhe.Chan eil caoineadh. Don’t cry,neach-gaoil.” Logan wiped her tears away with his thumbs, then cupped her neck in his hands and dropped his forehead against hers. “Shhh,alainn bhean.Mo bhog bòcan.Tha mi duilich. I’m sorry.”
