Unraveled By The Rebel (31 page)

Her aunt and uncle had supported the marriage, particularly after Paul had spoken privately with Lord Arnsbury. Something had changed his mind, and she didn’t know what it was. One moment, they were both upset with her decision to wed a physician… and the next, they were behaving as if she’d made the match of the Season. Strangely, Paul had said nothing of what had caused their change of heart. Perhaps they were simply glad she’d decided to marry and knew that he was her best hope. Charlotte had even suggested that they travel to Ballaloch, where her parents and Victoria could enjoy the wedding.

She’d refused, of course, knowing that her family would never support her marriage to a physician.

“Are you disappointed that your family is no’ here?” he asked, taking her by the hand. “Would you rather I sent for them?”

She shook her head. “My mother and father would only try to talk me out of this.” Squeezing his hand, she added, “But it wouldn’t work.”

Despite Charlotte’s insistence that her parents would not be
angry, Juliette wasn’t about to risk it. “I was hoping for nicer weather, though.” As a girl, she’d imagined herself marrying a man she loved, and wearing a beautiful gown, with flowers in her hair. There would have been dancing and feasting, with her favorite custard and cake.

As she daydreamed, the clouds broke open, the rain spattering down upon them. She couldn’t resist a laugh, for it was so dismal. Lifting her face to the sky, she remarked, “I think the sky is telling us to hurry up.” She hurried with Paul to the entrance of the church, lifting her skirts to avoid their being dragged in the mud.

When they were inside, Paul poured some of the water off his hat and donned it once more. “Wait here. I’ve a gift for you.” His eyes softened as he ventured back into the rain.

After he returned from the coach, he had a brown parcel tucked beneath his coat. “I didna think you’d be wanting to wed in a traveling gown.”

Juliette took the package, startled that he’d thought of it. “When did you have time to get this?” Warmth spread through her, at his gesture.

“I’m no’ one for buying women’s clothes, but I asked your aunt to choose something suitable. The minister’s wife can help you to dress,” he offered, pointing to a matron who was speaking to her husband farther inside the church. Juliette held the parcel a moment, before standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

His palm rested upon her waist, and he added, “I’ll always take care of you, Juliette.”

Her heart softened at the thought of how he’d done so much for her. She regretted that she had not had time to do anything special for him. But then, this was only the beginning of their years together.

Slipping free of his embrace, she ventured a smile. “I’ll go and change my gown.” She clutched it to her breast as she went
farther into the cold stone chapel, meeting the enthusiastic Mrs. MacKenzie. The woman reminded her of a sparrow with her brown hair and brown eyes, hopping about with excitement.

“Oh, my dear, we’ll have ye out of these wet clothes in a wee bit,” she chirped, ushering her into the sacristy. Juliette removed her bonnet, tucking a wet lock of hair up while Mrs. MacKenzie unbuttoned her. For a moment, she thought of Victoria’s wedding day. Her mother and sisters had been bubbling over with excitement while Toria had been strangely quiet. Now, she thought she understood her sister’s mood.

She wanted to wed Paul; truly, she did. But there was a sense that her life was about to change in a profound way.

When Mrs. MacKenzie unwrapped the gown, Juliette drew in her breath at the sight of it. Made of silk, the short-sleeved gown was a rich burgundy color. The bodice was trimmed with ribbon and pearls, befitting a baron’s daughter. It was the sort of gown she might have worn had she married a duke or an earl.

“Och, but it’s a bonny color with your hair.” Mrs. MacKenzie sighed. “I canna wait to see it on ye.” She helped raise the gown over Juliette’s head, buttoning it up over her stays. There were long white gloves to accompany the garment and matching slippers. No doubt, the cost of the gown and accoutrements had been dear. But Paul had tried to give her something to make the day special. And despite the dreary weather and the unusual circumstances, she was looking forward to becoming his wife.

“There now, ye look like a proper bride,” Mrs. MacKenzie pronounced. “Are ye ready?”

“I am.” At least, she thought so. She was terribly nervous inside, hoping she would not let Paul down. He’d been so good to her, and she wanted this to be a strong marriage.

She followed Mrs. MacKenzie back to the chapel, where the minister awaited them. Paul stood with his hands clasped behind his back. He was staring at the stained glass windows, and as she
returned from the sacristy, he turned. The expression on his face was of a man transfixed. He regarded her as if she were the answer to so many years of loneliness. And when she dared a smile, he held out his hand.

He was her best friend, and he was about to become her husband. Even as a young girl, she’d dreamed of this day.

And as the minister spoke the words binding them together, Juliette made a vow of her own.

I will try to be the wife you wanted.

Paul heard none of the words spoken by the minister. He gave his vows, but his mind was not on the ceremony—only on the night ahead. Though he would not consummate the marriage, he wondered if Juliette would ever learn to trust him. She had a slight smile on her face during the wedding, and that gave him hope.

He leaned forward to give her a kiss of peace and found that her hands were freezing. He rubbed them, and the minister gave a final blessing.

After they signed the parish register, it seemed odd to think that he’d married her at last. That this girl, whom he’d loved for so long, was now his. All because of a few vows made and ink upon paper.

He led her outside, and thankfully, the rain had stopped. Juliette stopped a moment and turned to him. Although her face still held the smile, she met his gaze and admitted, “I can’t believe we’re married now. It’s not at all the way I thought I’d feel.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” he confessed. “How
are
you feeling?”

“Like I ate an entire cherry tart by myself.”

It wasn’t at all what he’d expected her to say. “Deliciously wicked? Or like you’re about to have a stomachache?” he prompted, hoping it was the former.

“A little of both, maybe.” Her voice held traces of nervousness, but she took his hands and drew them to her waist. “I’m glad of it.”

He kissed her lightly, and when she returned it, his mind conjured the vision of being able to kiss her for as long as he wanted to. And aye, he was nervous, too. His instincts had served him well before, but tonight would be very different.

Juliette let him help her inside the coach, then wondered aloud, “Where is the driver?”

“I sent him ahead to prepare our room at the inn. He borrowed a horse from the minister.” A trace of guilt caught him, that he still hadn’t revealed the truth to Juliette about his inheritance and title. But he wanted their first night together with nothing to come between them. She would learn the truth when they reached Edinburgh.

“And you’re going to drive us now?” she ventured. She rubbed at her arms, and he saw the slight rise of gooseflesh upon them. The wind had lifted from the grass and was bringing a chill with it.

“I will, aye. You can stay inside the coach and be warm for both of us.”

Instead, she stepped out and approached the driver’s seat. “Help me up, won’t you?”

Paul reached down and boosted her up. “You want to sit beside me?”

“I did just marry you,” she reminded him. “It seems like a more appropriate place to be.”

Paul drew her cloak around her shoulders and brought a blanket to cover both of their laps. “I waited for this day for five years,” he admitted. He’d known, from the first, that Juliette was the woman fated for him. “And I want to set your fears to rest about tonight and every night thereafter. I’ll never force you into anything you don’t want.”

Her shoulders relaxed slightly. “I know that, Paul.” She leaned her head against him, and he brought his arm around her.

Over the next hour, the afternoon drifted into evening. He drove north, bringing the coach to stop at the inn. His driver came out to greet them and took their belongings inside.

“Why do you want to live in Edinburgh?” Juliette asked. “Is it because of your uncle?”

Tell her now,
his conscience urged. This was the perfect chance. And yet, he found himself not wanting to spoil the simplicity of this day. He wanted one night with her where they could simply be man and wife.

“In a manner of speaking,” he hedged. “My uncle left me his house when he died. I thought we’d live there for a while.” He said nothing else, letting her draw her own conclusions.

“I’m sorry to hear about his passing,” she said. “You never told me of it.”

“I only learned of it a short time ago.” He cleared his throat, adding, “But I hope you’ll be comfortable living there.”

She nodded, and the innkeeper led them upstairs to their room. Inside, there was a small bed and a table pushed against one wall. Two chairs awaited them, along with a wedding supper of cheese, bread, meat, and wine. A small covered silver dish contained the surprise he’d arranged for her.

“This is lovely.” She smiled at him, taking off her bonnet while he closed the door.

“And this is for you.” He gestured toward the silver container, hoping she would be pleased by it.

As soon as she uncovered the dish, Juliette’s eyes brightened. “Custard.” She eyed it with unabashed longing.

Paul found a spoon and dipped it into the dish, offering it to her. Juliette ate it, closing her eyes as she savored the taste. His mouth went dry at the sight of her, for she looked like a woman well-pleasured.

“More?” he offered.

“Oh, yes,” she said with a sigh. His skin tightened with the sudden image of Juliette naked while he licked custard from her bare skin. “Please.”

He gave her the spoon, and she indulged in another bite. Heat roared through him at the sight of her, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“How did you ever get the money for all this?” Juliette asked, holding out a spoonful to him. “You went to a lot of trouble for me.”

“I wanted you to enjoy your wedding day,” he said, shrugging. “And as I said, my uncle left me an inheritance.”

Now
, the voice reminded him again.
Tell her everything.
But still he held his silence.

“The custard is even better than a wedding cake. It was always my favorite.” She smiled, taking the spoon back. Paul leaned in to kiss her, and her lips tasted of sweet custard, with a hint of spices he could not name.

“You’re distracting me from my dessert,” she said against his lips. But there was a smile in her tone, as if she didn’t mind. “Are you as hungry as I am?”

He nodded, but it wasn’t food on his mind. He wanted his wife upon the bed. He wanted to remove the clothes from her body, kissing every inch of her.

You can’t,
the voice of reason interjected.

“Then eat,” she said, breaking off a piece of cheese and feeding it to him. He caught her fingers and sucked at the end of one, swirling it with his tongue. It was too strong an urge to resist.

The shocked expression on her face gave rise to a blush. “Paul, I didn’t mean you should nibble at my fingers. Not when there’s perfectly good food,” she teased.

“Is there?” He took her hand and kissed her palm, bringing it to rest on his cheek.

She went motionless. “I thought you said we wouldn’t—”

“Aye. But I never said I wouldn’t tempt you.”

She froze, paling at his words. He reached for the bread and tore off a piece, handing it to her. “Did I hurt you when I kissed you? Or when I touched you that night at the
cèilidh
?”

“No.” Her voice was the barest whisper, her eyes wide.

“Then trust that nothing I do will hurt you.” He removed his coat and waistcoat until he wore only a linen shirt and breeches. She was staring at him as if she’d found herself caught in a trap of her own making. “We’re married now,” he reminded her. “You’re going to see a lot more of me than this.”

He poured a cup of wine for each of them and held it out. “Drink.”

“Are you trying to get me foxed?”

“Not at all. Simply giving you something to quench your thirst.” He filled a plate and offered it to her. “You could take your shoes off.”

“I’m comfortable as I am.”

She was putting up walls again, and he realized that they had different expectations for this marriage. “I’m not meaning to frighten you, lass. But neither am I going to behave like a man who has no wife. There are some things I’m wanting from you, even if we are no’ lovers.”

“What do you mean?” She eyed the door as if she were considering fleeing the room.

“I won’t be having an English marriage with separate rooms.” Her brow furrowed, and he continued. “You’ll no’ be sleeping in your own room. You’ll sleep beside me, as a proper wife does.”

“Oh.” She eyed him as if expecting him to ask for more. “My parents shared a room, before my father went to war. I suppose that would be all right.”