Unraveled By The Rebel Read Online Free Page B

parlor.
    “I thought you might want a moment to collect yourself,” Juliette offered. “You look a little pale.”
    “I’m just worried,” Victoria admitted. “We heard a rumor from one of the younger boys about Lord Strathland’s men approaching the house. It may be nothing, but—”
    “But they won’t take that chance,” she finished. Though she spoke with a reassuring air, her stomach twisted at the news. “I heard about it from Mr. Sinclair,” Juliette added. “He and Dr. Fraser have gone to stop them from coming close.” And God willing, they would succeed.
    Her sister nodded but still appeared frightened. “My husband has gone with them.”
    Juliette squeezed her hands, murmuring words of reassurance that neither of them really believed. “Why don’t you go to your room for a moment?” she suggested. “You look overwhelmed.”
    Her sister sent her a grateful look. “Thank you.”
    Though both of them knew that the bride wasn’t supposed to abandon her own wedding celebration, Victoria wasn’t comfortablearound so many people. Her sister hated being the center of attention.
    “Do you want me to accompany you?” Juliette offered.
    For a moment, her sister faltered, as if considering it. “No, that’s all right. I’ll just take a moment to catch my breath before I return.” Her cheeks flushed, and Victoria added, “So many of the women are teasing me about my wedding night. I’m not afraid at all, to be honest. Well, maybe only a little.” There was an unexpected sparkle in her eyes, but Juliette could not imagine anticipating a wedding night with anything except dread. Were she in her sister’s place, she’d be terrified.
    For she knew exactly what Victoria would face. And though some of the women laughed and made innuendos about making love, it wasn’t something Juliette wanted to ever endure.
    Not again.
    She closed her eyes for a moment and collected herself. Then she walked alongside her sister, until Victoria went upstairs, returning to her room. Juliette’s hands were shaking against her own volition, and she returned to the parlor, inwardly repeating the words like a mantra.
    It wasn’t your fault. You were forced.
    The shame coursed through her again, until she felt ill. Her vision blurred, and she gripped the edge of the chaise longue to steady herself.
    It wasn’t your fault.
    Even so, the damage remained. Although at one point she’d dreamed of having a husband and children, she couldn’t imagine that now. Never could she relive the pain of lying beneath a man, suffering the degradation of a wedding night. She would embrace spinsterhood wholeheartedly if it meant that she wouldn’t have to experience such a nightmare again.
    A sudden crash of breaking glass made her jump. Seconds later, Juliette saw that the cause was a flaming brick, wrapped incloth and soaked with oil. The moment the brick hit the edge of the sofa, the fabric caught fire.
    Juliette jerked back in shock, moving instinctively for a pitcher of water or something to smother the fire. The flames were moving far too quickly, and she saw a wet residue along the perimeter of the room.
    Oil.
    Her mind went numb, for it meant that someone had deliberately planned the fire. Someone who had come to her sister’s wedding, possibly one of the crofters. But why? Her family had done nothing except offer sanctuary to them. They’d given the Scots a place to live.
    Unless one of the earl’s men had disguised himself among the others.
    One of the guests spied the flames and cried out a warning. The screams of frightened children mingled with the voices of their mothers trying to shush them. Too many people pushed their way to the door, fighting to get out.
    Someone grabbed her hand and pulled hard, dragging her outside with the others. The scent of smoke was acrid, the fire raging faster than it should.
    Men were already gathering buckets from the well, forming a line to put out the fire. Juliette searched the crowd