Page 94 of To Wed a Wild Scot
“That’s the way with children. She’ll be running about before Mr. Blair here is.” The doctor turned a stern look on Logan. “Remain in bed until your chest injury heals. It’s an awkward place for a wound. If you don’t take care you’ll tear it open, and then we’ll have a festering infection on our hands.”
Logan didn’t argue, but Juliana recognized the obstinate twist of his lips. It was going to be a battle, keeping him immobilized. A small six-year-old child was one thing, but an enormous, stubborn Scot quite another.
“I’ll see myself out.” The doctor waved Juliana away when she moved to follow him to the door. “Keep an eye on our patient, my lady. He looks like the sort who’ll be out of that bed as soon as you turn your back on him.”
Juliana crossed her arms over her chest, eyeing Logan. No doubt he’d do his best to escape, but she was just as stubborn as he was. She’d lock him in this bedchamber and station her two largest footmen outside the door if she had to, but Logan wouldnotbe stirring from that bed.
She’d had quite enough of this. Logan was keeping a secret from her, and she intended to find out what it was before it killed him.
The doctor closed the door behind him, and Juliana crossed back to Logan and perched on the edge of the bed. A dozen questions were racing through her mind, but she didn’t venture a word. She simply looked Logan in the eye and waited. She’d used this same tactic on Grace before, and really, men weren’t so different from children when it came to illness or injury, were they?
If she held her tongue long enough, he’d confess. The guilty always did.
Logan looked down at his hands, then toward the window, then he made a great show of inspecting the dressing on his arm, but at last he could stand it no longer and his pleading blue eyes met hers. “It’s not as bad as you think.”
“Oh?” She folded her hands in her lap. “Tell me, Logan. What do I think?”
He grimaced at her tone. “You think I got into a brawl.”
Juliana raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
Logan squirmed in the bed. “That is, Ididget into a brawl, but not for the reasons you think.”
Another eloquent raise of the eyebrow. “And what do I think were your reasons for this brawl?”
Logan kicked at the covers, but didn’t answer.
“If you’re quite finished with telling me what I think, then I’d be pleased to hear the truth. Tell me where you’ve been going the past few days.”
The obstinate twist returned to Logan’s lips. “There’s nothing to tell. By this time tomorrow it’ll be over, and it won’t matter any—”
“No.”
“No?” Logan’s brows pinched together. “What does that mean?”
“Look at me.” Juliana leaned over him, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Yesterday morning you left without a word of explanation. This morning you returned—a full day later—covered in blood and bruises. Now you’re telling me it doesn’t matter, and it sounds as if you’re planning to go off tonight to let whoever stabbed you finish the job. Well, I won’t have it, Logan. You’re my husband, and you owe me an explanation.”
Logan dropped his gaze, a guilty flush on his cheeks. “I knew you’d worry if I told you, and I didn’t want—”
“Do you suppose Ididn’tworry because you chose not to tell me? I spent the entire night waiting for you, hoping every moment for your return. But when you did return at last, you…” Juliana’s voice hitched. “How do you think I felt, seeing you hurt and bleeding? I thought you were—”
“Pleasedon’t cry.” Logan took her hand. “I’m sorry I worried you,bhean. For the past few days I’ve been working to fulfill a promise I made to Fitz before we left Castle Kinross. It should have been an easy enough task, but it turned ugly. I don’t want you involved in it.”
“What did you promise?” Fitz hadn’t said a word toherabout any promise, and now Juliana was beginning to see why. “What did you tell him you’d do?” When Logan didn’t answer right away, Juliana drew her hand away. “No more secrets. I have a right to know.”
Logan blew out a long breath. “Fitz wants to buy some land in Perth. He asked me to make an offer on it, but the blackguard who owns it refuses to sell. He’s planning to toss Clan Murray aside to make way for Cheviot sheep.”
“What blackguard is this?” Juliana asked, but a shiver of fear was already creeping down her spine. No, it couldn’t be. Fitzwilliam knew how dangerous Benedict was. Surely, he wouldn’t ask Logan to risk his safety.
“Lord Cowden.” Logan spat the name. “He owes thousands of pounds in gaming debts. Every gentleman in England holds his vowels. Fitz hoped the debts of honor would induce him to sell, but Cowden refused.”
Juliana wasn’t surprised. As well as Fitzwilliam knew Benedict, he’d never really understood how deep Benedict’s malice went. No practical concern like money could ever outweigh Benedict’s thirst for revenge.
Benedict would never sell. Not because he gave a fig for the land. No, he’d do it for the pleasure of thwarting Fitzwilliam. He would act against his own interests to keep Fitzwilliam from having something he wanted. That was the sort of man Benedict was.
“I’ve been calling on him this past week to see if I could find a way to persuade him to sell, but he’s held fast. So, last night I challenged him to a wager, and—”
“And he lost,” Juliana whispered, her voice unsteady. She knew better than anyone a loss wouldn’t stop Benedict. It would only make him more desperate, more ruthless, and more dangerous. He’d never give up that land to Fitzwilliam, no matter how many wagers he lost.
