Page 83 of To Wed a Wild Scot
“Oh, yes. I do!” Grace took his hand, and said to Juliana, “Mr. Logan is going to ride Finnegan today, because that name sounds most like Fingal, his own horse’s name.”
Juliana nodded and allowed Grace to hurry them out the door. Grace led the way to the stables, skipping happily along in front of them, leaving Logan and Juliana to follow behind, locked in an uneasy silence.
It was, unfortunately, a hint of things to come. Once they were all mounted and riding through the estate grounds, Grace continually darted off to explore whatever caught her eye, leaving Logan and Juliana to drown in the sea of awkwardness between them.
Juliana opened her mouth a dozen times, and closed it a dozen more without venturing a word. How had it gotten as bad as this so quickly? Back at Castle Kinross they’d always had plenty to say to each other, even when they’d been arguing. This abyss between them, this deafening silence, was unbearable. She had to do something, say something—
“Aunt Juliana!” Grace had ridden ahead, but she paused now and waved a beckoning hand toward Juliana and Logan. “Come this way, and see the last of the bluebells!”
Juliana waved and started to make her way forward, and Logan brought Finnegan into step beside her horse. “Everything you said about Grace is true. She’s as lovely as you told me she is.”
Juliana turned to him in surprise. Logan hadn’t offered her more than half a dozen words over the past three days, but if there was one subject on which they could talk easily, it was Grace. “She is. Now you see why I came all the way to Scotland on her behalf. She’s worth every single one of the six hundred miles between Surrey and Inverness.”
Logan’s mouth turned down. He struggled with himself for a moment, but then a harsh laugh tore from his chest. “You didn’t come all those miles just for Grace.”
Juliana glanced at him and saw the polite mask he’d been wearing for days had cracked a bit around the edges. Her heart began to pound. “Why did I come, then?”
He let out another short, hard laugh. “Come now, Juliana. We both know why. You came for Fitz, of course. Your betrothed. Pity that didn’t work out.”
It had been some time since Juliana thought it a pity—nearly from the first moment she’d laid eyes on Logan, in fact. “Do you supposeIthink it’s a pity, Logan? Or are you referring to your own feelings?”
He shrugged, but he didn’t meet her eyes. “Your father would have thought so, otherwise you wouldn’t have lied and told him you’d married Fitz. The Duchess of Blackmore, remember, Juliana?”
There it was, the dark, ugly thing she’d put between them with her lie. “I told you once before, Logan. I don’t care about being a duchess. That was my father’s dream for me, but it was never mine.”
“What about Fitz, Juliana?” he asked quietly. “Washepart of your dream?”
He turned to her then, and Juliana gasped at the raw pain she saw on his face. She reached out a hand to him. “Logan, I—”
“Aunt Juliana?” Grace was waving impatiently at them. “Aren’t you coming? I’m riding ahead!”
Juliana tore her gaze from Logan’s face and called to Grace, “No, I don’t like you getting so far ahead where I can’t see you. Wait for us, please.”
Grace frowned, but she lowered her riding crop and obediently brought her horse to a halt.
Juliana turned back to Logan, her heart rushing into her throat at the lost look on his face. “Fitzwilliam was never a part of my dream. Not in the way you mean it. I care for him, and I always will, but—”
Juliana broke off suddenly, her gaze jerking back to Grace. Had she caught something out of the corner of her eye? Some sharp movement that made foreboding shoot up her spine? Had Grace made a sound, or had Juliana somehow sensed something was coming, in the way of a parent always on the alert for her child?
She didn’t know. Even much later she couldn’t say how she knew something awful was about to happen, but she stopped mid-sentence and whirled toward Grace.
And what she saw…what she saw…
A scream tore from her throat. “Grace!”
Logan jerked his head toward Grace. They were only a few yards away from her—close enough so they could both see every moment as it unfolded with painful clarity.
But not close enough to stop it.
The small mare Grace was riding had taken a sudden fright to something in the grass—a snake, most likely. The mare lunged forward, nearly throwing Grace over her head, but then with a terrified whinny she reared back, her hooves stabbing at the air.
Grace let out a sharp cry and grabbed for the horse’s mane. She might yet have held on if the mare hadn’t regained her balance only to dance sideways, trampling at something at her feet. The snake that had spooked her flopped lifelessly between her hooves, and she reared up again in a panic.
“Grace!” Juliana screamed again, her voice hoarse with terror.
Logan surged forward. Juliana darted after him, a prayer on her lips as he got closer and closer to Grace, but just as he drew close enough to grab her around the waist and tug her free from the panicked horse, Grace’s fingers tore loose from the horse’s mane. The momentum sent her flying backward, and she was falling, falling…
Dear God, she seemed to fall forever, but at the same time too quickly for Logan to be able to do a single thing to stop it.
