Free Unraveled By The Rebel by Michelle Willingham Page A

back, to put a bullet through the man’s head, his uncle had talked sense into him. Heated revenge would only end in his own death.
    Money and wealth equaled power in the earl’s world. That was the way to bring down Strathland—not with midnight raids or stealing supplies, though he’d done his share of both in the past year. Paul refused to feel guilty about stealing grain to feed children who were hungry. If the earl hadn’t driven them off their land, they would have had stored supplies to last them through the winter. Instead, Strathland’s men had stripped the gardens, taking whatever food they’d wanted.
    No, it was better to bankrupt the earl. In that case, London might well be the best solution to Paul’s dilemma. He could educate himself about the wool business, learning how to bring theearl to his knees when no one would buy his fleeces. Strathland’s fortune rested upon the sale of wool. Without it, he would lose everything.
    Paul could make a place for himself there, perhaps as a private physician to a nobleman. In doing so, he could also be close to Juliette.
    And slowly, he would win her back.

    “We’re leaving in a few days,” Amelia told Juliette. “Mother is staying behind to see if anything can be saved from the house. We’ll stay with Aunt Charlotte instead of at the town house, since Mother won’t be with us.”
    The mention of Charlotte made Juliette’s spirits lift, for she was eager to see Matthew again. Perhaps this time, her son would begin crawling. Simply the thought of his smile and belly laugh made her eager to return. It was the one bright moment in the shadows of the tragedy.
    “I’m glad of it,” she remarked.
    “And she said we can continue our sewing.” Amelia beamed at the idea, as if she’d thought of it first. Juliette didn’t bother to correct her. “The crofters have continued working on the garments, and we’ll take them with us to sell.” Lowering her voice to a whisper, Amelia added, “Perhaps we could trade the undergarments Victoria made, in return for new gowns.”
    “We can’t. Mr. Sinclair has to be the one to sell the garments. No one can know that we created the corsets and chemises,” she chided. “It has to remain a secret.”
    Amelia’s mood faded. “I suppose.” She appeared disappointed in the need for secrecy. But then, her sister underestimated how important it was to maintain respectability.
    The kitten Paul had given her, which Juliette had named Dragon, meowed, nudging her legs before he flopped down and waited forher to stroke his ears. Juliette sat upon the floor, obliging the animal. “The duke promised our mother that you and Margaret could have a Season this spring. You’ll need many gowns for it,” she said.
    Amelia came to sit beside her on the floor. “And what about you?”
    Juliette drew up her knees beneath her gown. “I’ve no desire for a Season at all. I’d rather remain unmarried. I’ll handle the accounts for Aphrodite’s Unmentionables and be contented with the work.”
    Her sister stared at her with dismay. “But you can’t, Juliette. That would be unbearably lonely.”
    “I like adding sums and making money,” she countered. “There’s nothing lonely about it.”
    The lie slipped easily from her lips, and she added, “Besides, I don’t need a marriage to be happy. I’ll have my independence and can go as I please. Perhaps one day I’ll have a home of my own and a companion when I’m old.”
    “Or perhaps you’d rather marry Dr. Fraser,” her sister interjected. “He’s quite handsome. And he did bring you a kitten.”
    Juliette shook her head in exasperation. “Don’t be ridiculous.” As if a kitten would change her mind about men. Even so, her face reddened at the mention of Paul.
    Spinsterhood was good, she told herself. There was never a danger of any man touching her again.
    But abruptly, Amelia stopped and stared at her for a long moment. Her sister frowned, her eyes discerning.