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men had somehow slipped inside their house amid the crofters.
    Dr. Fraser hesitated, as if thinking about the answer. “I’m certain Strathland had a hand in it.”
    At the very mention of the earl, Juliette’s stomach roiled. Though she’d tried to stay clear of the man, even his name made her skin crawl. Lord Strathland had constantly tried to insinuate himself with their family, and Juliette had been glad to escape him in London.
    “Then there’s no reason to ask why, is there? He wants us gone from Scotland so he can control the land.” She made no effort to hide her distaste.
    The earl had been buying up thousands of sheep, now that wool was at a premium during the war. Most of the soldiers were off fighting Napoleon’s forces in Spain, and wool was in high demand for their uniforms. Lord Strathland desperately needed more grazing lands for the animals, and her family had often found his herds trespassing on their property.
    “I believe so, aye.” Dr. Fraser stared at her long enough for her to grow nervous, as if he could read the thoughts within her. He took a step closer, and she locked her feet in place, feeling as if the air between them had grown warmer.
    Leave.
Her mind uttered the warning, for if she didn’t go, her willpower would crumble into dust.
    “I don’t know what we’ll do now,” she said, speaking faster. “Our debts are rising, and we’ve only just started to earn money with Victoria’s sewing.”
    She hardly knew what words were escaping her mouth, for she’d grasped at any conversational topic. Yet Paul knew nothing about the sort of sewing they’d indulged in. Her sister Victoria’s scandalous line of undergarments had earned far more money than they’d ever dreamed. They had called the lingerie Aphrodite’s Unmentionables. Fashioned of silk and satin, they were impractical for most women, but perfectly suited to the wealthy members of the London ton who were accustomed to wearing garments only once or twice.
    “She’ll no’ be able to sew anymore, as a duchess,” Paul pointed out. “But it may be that the Duke of Worthingstone will help your family.”
    “I hope so.” But she didn’t like relying on others to solve their problems. Instead, she hoped that she and her sisters could somehow continue the business. Though Juliette loathed sewing, she did enjoy setting the prices and keeping the accounts. Tallying up the cost of supplies, the delivery fees for Mr. Sinclair, and predicting the profits were ways of filling up the lonely hours.
    Perhaps she could do even more to help, if she returned to London. It was a way of helping her family, and she could make herself useful again. Especially if she never married.
    She stared off into the darkness, a softness catching at her heart as she remembered her sister’s face when she’d spoken her wedding vows to the duke. “It was a lovely wedding. I never thought Victoria would be the first of us to wed. But I’m glad for her.”
    “What of you?” he asked. “Did you enjoy your Christmas in London?” There was a sharpness to his voice, as if he’d imagined her mother parading her around to potential husbands.
    “I enjoyed visiting with my aunt and her son,” she confessed.
My son,
she corrected inwardly. At the memory of Matthew’s round face and the way he’d attempted to stuff his fist into his mouth, she couldn’t stop her smile. But when she thought of having to leave him, her throat tightened. The stolen moments with Matthew were worth the terrible cost of giving him up. And if she could never marry, she wanted to be close to him, as often as she could.
    She added, “My sister Margaret loved every moment of it. She made lists of every eligible bachelor and ranked them all.”
    Her sister was nothing if not ambitious. Juliette met his gaze, continuing, “Though I know she’s happy for Victoria, I imagine Margaret was quite chagrined that our sister found a better match than she did, without having a single