A Keen-Eyed Highlander
Chapter seven
Another day later
After their usual stroll through the gardens of Whickerton Grove, Juliet saw Grandma Edie settled in front of a warm fire in the drawing room with a cup of tea and a blanket wrapped around her legs.
Then she sat down in the armchair opposite her and picked up the book her grandmother had chosen on their last visit to the library.
With a smile, Juliet began to read and continued to do so until the old woman’s soft snores could be heard drifting through the room.
Rising to her feet, Juliet stretched her legs, her gaze drawn to the window. Dark clouds now hung in the sky, and a strong wind tugged on the leaves still upon the trees.
“Oh! I beg yer pardon.”
Turning around, Juliet found Keir standing in the doorway, his blue eyes moving from Grandma Edie’s sleeping form to her, a bit of a sheepish grin coming to his face as he regarded her.
“Would ye care for a stroll?” he asked in his Scottish brogue, his voice dropping to a whisper as he cast a sideways glance at Grandma Edie.
“In this weather?” Juliet chuckled with a questioning look at the sky. “I fear it might rain soon.”
Keir moved into the room and came to stand beside her, his eyes turning toward the dark gray clouds. “Nay, rain is still a few hours off.”
Juliet chuckled again. “How could you possibly know?” Still, she had to admit that the man looked rather like a woodsman with his long hair, a few strands braided here and there, pulled back and tied at his nape.
His dark clothes were of a rougher fabric made for the outdoors, including a leather vest and heavy boots, and he always wore a small pouch attached to his belt.
Juliet could easily imagine him with a quiver full of arrows on his back and a bow slung over his shoulder, sneaking through the woods, stalking a deer.
Keir laughed quietly; a deep, rich sound that made Juliet feel strangely at peace.
“Ye learn a thing or two when ye spend yer days out of doors.” He grinned at her, his deep blue eyes sweeping over her face as though she were an open book.
“Come, lass.” He held out his hand to her. “Let’s try and catch the wind.”
Before Juliet knew what was happening, she found herself dashing down the small slope leading into the gardens, a woolen cloak wrapped around her shoulders and her hand warm and safe in Keir’s.
Perhaps she ought not have allowed him to hold her hand; however, the moment the wind swept over her face, her legs rushing to keep up with Keir’s large strides, Juliet felt… unburdened.
Her thoughts scattered, and her heart beat with purpose, strong and unafraid. Laughter spilled from her lips, and she stretched out her arms like a bird wanting to take flight.
“I dunna think I’ve ever heard ye laugh like that, lass,” Keir remarked as he turned around to face her, sure steps carrying him backward, a wide smile upon his face.
“Careful! You’ll fall,” Juliet exclaimed, pulling on his hand to stop him.
“You’re a kind lass,” Keir told her, his blue eyes looking into hers, “but ye’re sad, aren’t ye?”
Juliet swallowed, unable to avert her eyes. An icy shiver snaked down her back, and suddenly, the day seemed as dark and gray as it was.
A soft expression came to Keir’s face as he stepped closer. “’Tis yer heart, aye? Will ye not tell me who stole it from yer chest?”
Mortified, Juliet realized that tears were streaming down her face. “How do you know?” she sobbed, trying to turn away, but Keir’s hand on her shoulder stopped her.
“Ye’ve got the look of it,” he remarked, then pulled her arm through his. Together, they walked on, toward the far horizon until her tears had dried. “The one who sat beside ye at wee Harry’s wedding?”
Bowing her head, Juliet closed her eyes, oddly unafraid to stumble and fall. With Keir beside her, she felt protected as she always had with Troy by her side. Only lately, he, too, seemed preoccupied, sadness clinging to his eyes. Perhaps she ought to speak to him.
“Have ye not spoken to him?” Keir asked as though echoing her thoughts. “The young lord? Yer grandmother told me about him.”
Juliet stopped in her tracks and looked up at him. “What did she tell you?”
Keir ducked his head to look into her eyes. “That ye used to be friends. That ye still miss him.” His brows rose in question.
Juliet swallowed. “I do,” she whispered, then bowed her head, unable to bear Keir’s inquisitive gaze any longer. “But he left…without a word, without…” Breathing in deeply, Juliet could smell the coming rain. “He only came back now because Grandmother invited him.”
“Why do ye think she did so?”
Juliet shrugged. “He said he didn’t know. Grandmother never even mentioned it to me.”
“Did ye ask her?”
Shaking her head from side to side, Juliet dropped her gaze.
Keir’s hand gently grasped her chin, and Juliet felt reminded of how Christopher had stood before her at Laurelwood Manor. “Perhaps,” the tall Scot whispered, a gentle look in his warm eyes, “she did so for ye.”
“For me?”
He nodded. “So ye could ask yer questions.”
Juliet stared up into Keir’s face as her heart thundered wildly in her chest. “What if…What if I don’t like his answers? What if…?”
“At least, ye’ll know,” Keir replied calmly before a slight twitch tugged upon his lips. “But I dunna think ye need worry, lass. He cares for ye. He does.”
For the second time that day, Juliet stared up at Keir MacKinnear, completely dumbfounded. “How could you possibly know?”
The Scot chuckled. “Because he’s right over there,” he gestured past her shoulder, “and the look upon his face screams bloody murder. Aye, he’s jealous to find ye here with me.”
Inhaling a shuddering breath, Juliet slowly turned around, grateful to feel Keir’s strong arm beneath her trembling hand. Her knees went weak as her eyes found Christopher, a dark scowl upon his face as he approached, large, angry strides carrying him closer…and closer.
“Courage, lass,” Keir whispered beside her ear, and Juliet could see Christopher’s scowl deepen as he saw the Scot lean down to her. Was it possible that Keir was right? Could it be that Christopher…?
“Lady Juliet,” Christopher greeted her in a bitter tone that sent an icy shiver down Juliet’s back. Then his gaze moved from her to the man standing behind her shoulder. “Mr. MacKinnear.”
While Juliet felt every inch of her body tense up, her tongue unable to form even a monosyllabic reply, Keir seemed utterly unimpressed by Christopher’s hostile greeting.
“A good day to ye as well, Lord Lockhart.” Juliet found Keir glance down at her before his right hand moved to pat hers encouragingly, which still rested upon his left arm.
“I shall leave ye to it then. I reckon ye have quite a lot of talking to do.” A faint hint of amusement rumbled in his throat as he spoke.
Juliet swallowed, then lifted her gaze to Keir’s. “Thank you,” she managed to say before he nodded his head and then strode away.
With deepest unease, Juliet forced her gaze back to Christopher. She could not say what made her feel so apprehensive; yet she knew not what to say or do, afraid that he would still look at her with that icy expression in his eyes.
“You seem quite…close,” Christopher remarked the moment her gaze dared to meet his. His brown eyes were slightly narrowed and questioning, looking at her in a way that made her feel as though she owed him an answer.
Oddly enough, Juliet felt a tiny spark of anger ignite.
It burned perhaps for a moment or two, but it made her lift her head and straighten her shoulders.
“Is something wrong?” she inquired, surprised to discover that her voice was not trembling, as though her heart were not beating wildly in her chest. “You seem to dislike Keir? Mr. MacKinnear, I mean? Is there some sort of problem?”
Instead of answering any of her questions, Christopher nodded, a knowing look coming to his eyes. “Keir.” Again, his head bobbed up and down. “I see.”
Juliet hesitated, understanding the dark suspicion in his eyes for what it was. Yet who was he to demand an explanation? On the other hand, he was not demanding one, was he?
After another few painful moments of silence, Juliet finally breathed in deeply and said, “He is a family friend, and, yes, I like him dearly. He is a good man, caring and kind and—”
“I see the two of you are quite well acquainted,” Christopher snarled, his lips twisting into a grotesque imitation of a smile.
Juliet frowned. “He has been with us these past few weeks, and I have come to know him. Our grandmothers used to be the best of friends, and I cannot deny that he feels like family.” Holding Christopher’s gaze, Juliet took a step toward him.
“Has anything happened that would make you dislike him? I cannot imagine what that could be.”
Christopher’s jaw seemed to clench as he stared down at her. “If he is such a good family friend as you say,” he forced out through gritted teeth, “then why have you never met him before? Why is he here now? Do you not find that unusual?”
Juliet shrugged, remembering the explanation she had given Christopher at Harriet’s wedding.
“I do not know,” she finally replied truthfully; after all, it was merely a suspicion and not even her own, but her sisters’.
“He and his family live far away in the Highlands. I suppose travel is not that easy, and life has a way of keeping one busy, especially with a large family and a meddling grandmother.” She cast him a careful smile.
“Truth be told, neither one of our grandmothers has revealed why he is here. Perhaps, one day, we shall find out. Until then, all we can do is guess.”
Casting Christopher a warm smile as a peace offering, Juliet hoped desperately that they could leave this behind and begin anew.
There was so much to talk about, so much to ask and know that she did not wish to waste time with hostility.
Who knew how long Christopher would stay? A fortnight? Or perhaps even less?
At the thought of watching him ride away, not knowing when or if he would return, Juliet’s heart clenched painfully and her knees weakened once more, making her wish Keir was still by her side.
Making her wish that Christopher would hold her the way he often had in the past.
Making her wish that they could be Kit and Jules again.
Even if only for a few short days.