Free Unraveled By The Rebel by Michelle Willingham

empty ache in his stomach making it impossible to rest. He’d never shivered beneath a thin coverlet or worn patched shoes in the deep winter snows. Not the way Paul had.
    “What must I do?”
    “Watch those who are wealthy. Learn from them, and discover their weaknesses.” His uncle gestured toward his house. “I am not a poor man, though I was like you once. Did your father ever tell you about me?” There was a sudden narrowing of the man’s eyes, as if he were hiding secrets.
    Paul shook his head. “I ne’er knew he had brothers. He didna talk of you at all.”
    His uncle Donald shrugged. “Kenneth was the youngest of three brothers. We grew up in this house.”
    Paul was startled to hear it. He’d never guessed that there was any money at all on his father’s side of the family.
    “You’re probably wondering why Kenneth turned his back on us. Our father threw him out when he wanted to marry your mother. He was hot-headed and lashed out, saying he’d never come back or have anything to do with us.”
    “Then why would my mother send me to you?” Paul asked.
    “Because your mother was wiser than Kenneth. She knew that you were all that was left of us. One day, this will all come to you. If you prove yourself worthy of an inheritance.”

    The grandfather he’d never seen had turned out to be a viscount. Even now, the revelation stunned Paul.
    Kenneth Fraser had never behaved any differently, tending sheep like the other crofters. Though Paul knew the Frasers were from Edinburgh, his father had never gone to visit his family. Now, he understood why—because his father was trying to hide his grandfather’s title.
    Bridget had known, and that was why his mother had sent him away, after his father had been executed. Not only to keep him safe from Strathland’s men, but to reveal the truth.
    “Ye’ll learn to be a gentleman,” Bridget had told him. “Your father ne’er wanted that life, but you should leave Ballaloch to see the world. Donald will teach you what you need to know.”
    He hadn’t cared about manners or learning to be a gentleman and had told her so. But Bridget had insisted, and now he knew the reason.
    A title. Wealth. Both would irrevocably change his life. Any other man would be grateful for the money, but Paul was too aware of his kinsmen who had endured freezing nights with naught but a tent and a fire to stay warm.
    God above, he didn’t want the title. What right did he have to hide away in Edinburgh, dining with silver and crystal, when his friends and kinsmen were here suffering? He wanted to remain the man he was, bent upon vengeance against the earl, determined to bring down Strathland’s wool empire. The only reason that title had value was because it gave Paul the chance for a future with Juliette.
    For so long, he’d dreamed of walking in the glen beside her. Of courting her and seeing her smile. If he let her go to London now, there was no chance for them.
    Paul walked through the snow, his footsteps crunching upon the surface. All his life, he’d been a man who believed in fate. From the moment he’d laid eyes on Juliette, he’d known that she was meant to be his. And if he had to choose between following her to London or living here without her, there was no question of where he would go.
    He trudged back to the rows of tents, his breath forming clouds in the winter air. Although the snowfall was lighter on this side of the glen, it was still bitterly cold. He passed by campfires and hoped that one day there would be warm houses instead of threadbare tents.
    As he walked up the hillside, the grim memory of his father’s death lingered. The trial had been a farce, with all of the people agreeing with whatever Lord Strathland wanted. His father had been hanged on this hill, for a murder he hadn’t committed.
    All to save his only son’s life.
    Paul stared down at the glittering snow. Never had he forgotten how his father had died. And though he’d longed to fight