Page 114 of Edge of Yesterday

Chapter Nineteen

Cailean kept walking when Lord Ravenstone stopped at a table to seat Crowe and Father Andrew, and returned to his place beside Julianna. He scanned the platters of roasted venison, wild boar, cold sliced capon breast, beef ribs, and an array of bowls offering everything from pickled onions to beans and a variety of sauces. Bread, bannocks, oatcakes, and cheese were also plentiful, as were small dishes of spiced almonds. Instead of food, he reached for the closest ale jug, which is what, it seemed, most of the guests had done. Julianna’s attention didn’t shift from her food, a simple chicken drumstick and a small serving of beans, as he lowered himself into his chair. He wasn’t fooled. He’d glimpsed anxiety on her face when they’d walked Crowe and Father Andrew toward the dais.

He leaned close and whispered, “Ye have nothing to fear from him as long as I’m here.”

Her head came up and he read surprise an instant before her eyes narrowed. “I am no’ afraid.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said. “That means ye finally understand that I’m a better swordsman.”

“It means nothing of the kind,” she muttered.

Cailean was sure he glimpsed a twitch at the corner of Lady Ravenstone’s mouth before she turned away and said something to the guest sitting beside her husband’s empty seat. Cailean concluded that Lady Ravenstone had a seriously twisted sense of humor. He also deduced that, while Julianna had inherited her mother’s determination and wit, Lennox shared the baroness’ love of perverse amusement.

Julianna’s gaze shifted to Crowe and her brow furrowed. Anger swept through Cailean anew. She was trying to save face, but she was afraid, or, at the very least, fearful for him.

“It takes bollocks for him to wear that bloody blade here,” she whispered.

“What?” Cailean said, before realizing what she’d said.

Christ, he’d connected the dagger with Val Ross and had forgotten that she’d seen Crowe use that blade to perform human sacrifice. The same fucking dagger Val used to bleed Cailean’s arm over the Blooding Stone. A hellish compulsion to leap from his chair and pummel Crowe surged upward. Cailean seized his mug of ale and drained the contents.

“What?” Julianna frowned.

He gave a morbid laugh. “Aside from the fact we’re sitting ten feet from a psychopath?”

“A what?”

“A man who kills without regret,” he said.

She stared for a moment, clearly uncertain, then nodded. “Aye, he is that.” Her attention returned to Crowe. “I wonder why he wore the dagger here?”

“Probably because he can.”

“What do ye mean?”

“I mean—” Cailean broke off, suddenly aware of her mother’s presence. He hesitated, uncertain he wanted to continue this conversation with Julianna, then decided she deserved at least some of the truth. “Will ye sit with me near the hearth?”

Surprise appeared in her eyes then, to his astonishment, shyness followed. She nodded and he rose, then waited as she came to her feet. Cailean cupped her elbow and didn’t miss the flick of her mother’s eyes in their direction before he turned and led her toward the fire.

“Ho, laddie!” called a big, burly graybeard as soon as they neared the edge of the raised dais. “Can ye no’ wait till we’ve all supped before you steal the lass away from us?” The man sat at one of the tables just beneath the dais and he pushed to his feet now, swaying slightly, the brightness of his eyes leaving no doubt as to why he was so unsteady on his feet. “She’s a bonnie one,” he roared, grinning at Cailean. “Were I younger, I’d want her, too!”

“She would no’ take you then, either, ye auld goat.” An equally old man shouted from the next table, his quip drawing laughter from everyone who’d heard. “Now myself…” He leapt to his feet, thumped his chest. “Young Cailean can be glad I was born so long ago I cannae say how old I am.”

“She is a beauty, I agree.” Cailean patted each man on the back as he passed their tables. The friendly gesture drew nods and smiles as they made their way down the hall’s center aisle toward the hearth.

They reached the bench in front of the fire. Julianna sat and he joined her on the bench.

“My lady—”

“Julianna,” she said.

He frowned. “What?”

“Ye might at least use my Christian name now that we are truly wed.”

Emotion tightened his chest. He wanted to call her by her given name and so much more, but to do so would be to open his heart—and lose a piece of it behind when he left.

“Julianna, Crowe is furious that you chose me instead of him. He is now attempting to exert power over us any way he can. To wear the dagger he wields for human sacrifice—and he knows someone spied on him when he used the blade—says to the world ‘I am untouchable.’”