Page 55 of To Wed a Wild Scot
“But what?” Stokes regarded her for a moment with narrowed eyes, then threw his hands up in the air. “If you’re up to any tricks, my lady, you’d better ’fess up right now, or—”
“Lady Juliana?” Logan peered around the side of the stable door. “If we’re going to get back to Castle Kinross by this afternoon, we’d better go.”
“Did you hear that, Stokes? If you keep me here arguing much longer, Mr. Blair and I will be riding back at dusk.Alone.” Juliana lowered her voice, so only Stokes could hear her. “Surely that’s not what you want.”
Stokes shot a dark look at Logan. “Don’t want you riding with him at all.”
Stokes didn’t make any effort to lower his voice. Logan heard him and looked from Juliana to Stokes and back again, a sly grin lifting one corner of his lip.
That wicked little grin wasnothelpful. Juliana shooed Logan back into the stable yard with a wave of her hand before Stokes could see it. “Now then, Stokes. Mr. Blair is the duke’s brother. Do you suppose His Grace would let me ride off with him if he wasn’t a proper escort?”
Stokes cast another threatening look in Logan’s direction, but this was the right argument to make. Stokes had known Fitzwilliam for years, and he wouldn’t dream of questioning His Grace’s judgment. He relented, and helped Juliana mount Domino. “If you’re not back by the afternoon, I’m coming after you.”
“Yes, yes. Very well,” Juliana called, keeping her impatient huff to herself as she rode out to meet Logan.
Once they’d cleared the stable yard and turned down the road toward Inverness, Logan said with a grin, “You know, my lady, I have the oddest feeling your manservant doesn’t like me.”
For pity’s sake. Between Logan and Stokes she’d be driven to madness before she made it halfway to the Sassy Lassie. “He doesn’t. He thinks you’re a scoundrel.”
“Ah. Well, he’ll be delighted when I become your husband then, won’t he? It’s going to be a long journey back to England.”
“He’ll settle down once we’re wed.” A lie, of course, but she wouldn’t allow herself to think about that now. Her marriage would secure Grace’s safety, and that was all that mattered. As for everything else, well, it would all come right in the end.
Somehow.
“You’re a terrible liar, Lady Juliana.” Logan’s grin widened, but he didn’t argue further. As they rode along in a comfortable silence, Juliana’s spirits lifted. Logan Blair certainly knew how to hold his tongue when the occasion called for it. Surely that was a desirable quality in a husband?
Perhaps it wouldn’t be so unpleasant, being married to him.
He had other redeeming qualities, as well. He’d fished her out of Ruthven Burn, instead of letting her drown. He’d done his best to protect her by taking her to Widow Macaulay’s instead of leaving her at the mercy of Dougal Robertson’s wicked reputation. He’d saved her from the rats in the secret passageway. He’d even helped her get Fiona from the Robertsons’ farm to Castle Kinross. Surely these were all points in his favor?
He’d agreed to marry her…
Juliana glanced at him and her throat closed, just as it always did when she thought of that moment under the Laburnum Arch. She’d never forget the flood of relief and gratitude she’d felt when instead of refusing her, Logan asked her to be his wife.
Fitzwilliam had told her Logan was an honorable man. Juliana hadn’t believed it at the time, but over the past week she’d seen another side of Logan. Yes, he’d stolen her letters, but he’d done it for the most unselfish reason—to protect his clan. That didn’t excuse his actions, yet Juliana understood the sort of love that drove a person to do something they otherwise wouldn’t have done.
It was the kind of love she had for Grace.
In some ways, she and Logan Blair were very much alike. Whether or not it was enough to build a friendship on remained to be seen, but Juliana was determined not to dwell on the early rancor between them.
He was to be her husband. She hadn’t made a promise to love him or to remain with him forever, but she’d privately vowed she’d do her best to become his friend.
She could manage that much, couldn’t she? She’d been raised to be appealing to gentlemen, and for all his rough edges, Logan Blair was a gentleman.
He could even be downright charming when he chose to be. She liked the way he’d talked to her of that Scottish sweet, cranachan, and of Castle Kinross’s cook, Mrs. Craig. Perhaps if she could get him talking about his home again, they’d eventually become more comfortable with each other.
She turned to him with a determined smile. “Tell me, Mr. Blair. Do you ride often to Inverness?”
His eyebrows rose at this formal enquiry, and Juliana’s cheeks flushed. She sounded absurd, addressing him as if they’d just been introduced at a ball, but how else did a lady become more familiar with a gentleman, other than polite chitchat? “You’re well acquainted with the proprietor at the inn there.”
He nodded. “I’ve known Fergus since I was old enough to ride to Inverness with my father. On very cold days, Fergus used to sneak a tiny splash of whisky into my teacup when my father wasn’t looking.”
Whisky, for a child? Juliana tried to hide her shock. “My goodness. What would your father have done, if he’d caught you?”
“Thrashed me, maybe. Or maybe he’d have thrashed Fergus.”
He smiled at the memory, and Juliana pushed on, encouraged. “What was your father like? Was he a very stern man?”
