Julianna had captured him body and soul from the moment he had first seen her, though it had taken days for him to admit it to himself. He could not lose her now—after a wager of battle had secured them the right to live happily together with no fear of anyone proclaiming her a witch ever again.
“Juli, I dinna believe you no longer love me,” Roger said vehemently against the door, though she had gone silent as if lying spent from weeping upon the floor. “You saved my life—our lives!—when you threw back my sword. Mayhap you willna speak tae me now, but I willna let what William told you destroy us. I’m going with some of my men tae the village church tae bury him and then I will return. I love you, lass—do you hear me?I love you!”
Anguished, Roger pressed his ear to the door but he heard nothing more than a shuddering sigh. He felt some measure of hope that she hadn’t shouted out that she hated him—ah, God, it would have to be enough for now.
He rose to his feet and stood there another few moments…hoping she might relent and draw the bolt—
“Papa?”
Roger spun around to see Elspeth looking at him from the opened door to her room, one of the nursemaids holding her hand.
“Forgive me, Laird, but your daughter insisted upon seeing you. She heard your voice—och, child!”
Elspeth had pulled her hand away from the woman to run to Roger and hug him around the knees, her blue eyes shining with tears as she gazed up at him.
“You look so sad, Papa…and I heard Mama crying—”
“Och, lamb, go back tae your room and I’ll come see you later, aye?”
Elspeth nodded, though still she wouldn’t release him…leaving Roger to lift her up and hug her tightly before carrying her back to the nursemaid.
The young woman’s expression apologetic as she took Elspeth in her arms, though she glanced beyond him to the bolted door as if she had overheard Julianna crying, too.
Yet she said nothing, only sighing softly and disappearing with his daughter inside the room while Roger heard fresh sobs across the hall.
Julianna was weeping again…mayhap from their bed to sound so muffled, which made him consider throwing his weight against the door to force it open—och, what was he thinking?
He didn’t want to frighten her or hurt her any further. He would do as he had told her and return after he buried William…though he wanted to do nothing more than throw his brother’s corpse over the rampart and let his body rot where it fell.
He had no doubt that was what William would have done to him—the heart-wrenching sound of Julianna’s distress spurring him down the hall.
* * *
WasRoger gone from the castle? Julianna hadn’t heard him say anything further for some time from where she lay upon the bed…sobbing still as she clutched a tear-soaked pillow, so he must have left for the village.
She didn’t want to think upon anything he had said—dear God, how could she believe a word of it after he had betrayed her with his silence about William?
If she had known the truth that Roger had withheld from her, she would never have agreed to become his wife, just as she had cried out to him, and never have come to Douglas Castle. A dank prison cell in Dumbarton would have been far better than living among those who’d had a hand in murdering her family. She had to get away from this place—now, at once!
Her eyes burning from weeping, Julianna climbed from the bed and hastened shakily to the armoire to fetch a hooded cloak.
If Roger had indeed gone into the village, she didn’t have much time, for it wouldn’t take long to bury a corpse. Surely if he and his men had just left the castle, the gates must still be open…
Somehow choking back fresh tears, Julianna went to the door and listened, but she heard nothing and slowly drew the bolt.
Her breath caught as she opened the door and peered outside to find the hallway empty, little sound coming from Roger’s daughters’ room or Aran’s room—no, she couldn’t think about the children, either. She covered her head with the hood and fled as noiselessly as she could to the tower steps, where she stopped—listening again—and then hurried downstairs.
Servants bustled in the foyer and she heard the buzz of voices from the great hall, but she kept her head down and hastened to the door leading to the bailey—her heart clamoring as she stepped outside into pouring rain.
A glance at the massive gates yawning open swamped her with relief and drove her on toward the stable, though the mud hindered her progress and made her pray that no one would stop her.
She felt so breathless, tears threatening again, that everything seemed a blur as she entered the stable and went straight for the stall of the black mare King Robert had given her—Julianna within moments riding out into the rain and straight for the gates.
She heard shouts from the guardsmen, who looked as if they might attempt to block her from leaving until she cried out hoarsely to them, “I’m joining my husband in the village!”
The men didn’t stop her, but jumped out of the way or she would have careened right into them, she was so desperate to escape the castle.
Cold rain pelting her face as she could no longer keep herself from weeping, she veered away from the village and took the opposite road westward toward Dumbarton—praying even harder that she would remember the way.
