Unraveled By The Rebel by Michelle Willingham

sliver of heat moved down her spine. As he lowered her, she found herself breathless at the pressure of his body against hers.
    “I brought you a gift,” he said, lowering her to stand. “Took me months of saving for it.”
    He grimaced a moment, staring down at his hands, as if he were embarrassed by the holes in his gloves. “I apprenticed with an apothecary for a while, and then I applied to the college again. This time, I was accepted.” Reaching inside his waistcoat pocket, he pulled out a ring made of silver. She saw that it was engraved with a pattern of vines and a single blossom.
    He reached out for her hand and found a finger that it fit. “I wanted something to remind you of our promise. Because I can no’return again, until I’ve finished with my studies. And when I come back, I want you to marry me, lass.”
    She traced the silver with her fingertips, knowing how much this gift had cost him. There was no doubting that he’d meant what he said. Her heart swelled with a burst of joy that he loved her, and she cared for him, too. She wanted so badly to keep the ring, to run home and tell her family that Paul had asked her to wed him.
    But the moment she thought of her mother’s reaction, reality struck hard. Beatrice would not be happy for her at all. If she spoke a word of this, her mother would forbid her to see him again.
    With the greatest reluctance, she started to remove the ring. “Paul, I—”
    “Don’t speak,” he warned, touching her mouth with a finger. “I can see what you’re thinking. But you’ll keep it, and make your decision later.”
    She let it be, knowing she ought to remove the ring. To wear it meant giving him false hope. And yet
…
he was her forbidden secret. She didn’t want to give back the ring. Instead, she wanted to keep it on a chain, wearing it hidden against her heart.
    Paul took her hand again. “Come with me back to the crofters. You can help me distribute the food.”
    “What food?” She frowned, not understanding what he meant
.
    “You’ll see.” He gave no other explanation but led her back down the hillside. They walked toward the rows of thatched huts. Dogs barked at their approach, and Juliette held tightly to her fur-lined pelisse as the winter wind blew past the houses.
    Though she’d brought bread to these people on many occasions, when she saw the children gathering at one of the homes, her mood grew more somber. Their shoes were thin, their plaids wrapped tightly about them. One of the men was passing out sacks of potatoes, turnips, and dried fish.
    “Where did all of this come from?” she asked, staring at the supplies. When Paul didn’t answer, she faltered.
    In the barest whisper, she inquired, “They didn’t steal it, did they?”
    Still he made no reply. The silver ring upon her finger seemed heavier somehow, and she wondered if he had planned the raid or only participated in it.
    “It’s wrong,” she murmured. “They shouldn’t—”
    “It was food stolen from them,” he said, not bothering to hide the edge of anger. “Strathland doubled their rents only a few weeks ago. When they couldna pay, they had to trade in their winter stores.”
    She shook her head. “I don’t understand. He doesn’t need their food.”
    “No, but by taking it from them, they have no choice but to leave.” His gaze hardened. “Open your eyes, Juliette. He’s stealing these people blind.” His expression grew taut. “And you knew it already, for you were bringing them bread.”
    “I had to do something,” she admitted. “But it wasn’t enough. It won’t ever be enough. We hardly have bread ourselves.”
    “Then you understand.” He took her hand in his, leading her to stand beside the line of children. “The food would have rotted in his storehouses otherwise. Better to make use of it, where it’s needed.”
    Juliette took a deep breath and eyed the stolen goods. “And what if you’re caught?” She traced the edge of the ring,