Page 103 of Edge of Yesterday

“If I were to find out one of the priests is practicing black magic…” Her mouth thinned. “I will have to pray for a month to be forgiven for my thoughts.”

He knew exactly how she felt. “Let’s put this back in its place and get you to your bed.”

Minutes later, they entered the garden. Chill air whipped, and Cailean frowned when Julianna turned her head aside and clasped her cloak tight about her shoulders.

“Ye are cold,” he said as they followed the pebbled path to the monastery’s guest lodgings.

She shook her head, but he was sure her shoulders were hunched beneath the cloak. Cailean put an arm around her and drew her close. She didn’t resist, and leaned into to his side. He slowed stride so that she wasn’t forced to keep pace. Her body, flush against his, felt as natural as the sun on his face. Damn. If she wasn’t a fourteenth century woman, he would kiss her—and more. She wrapped her arm around his waist and walked in step with him.

Cailean recalled the intensity in her eyes when she’d explained about the cursing bone. She was smart—and tough. Her expression when she suspected a priest might be practicing black magic was no less determined. He’d read enough to know that medieval women were no wilting violets, but he’d had no idea just how tough they were. Modern women could learn a thing or two from them. Ginny would like her. Regret brought a stab of sadness. The two women would never meet. Would he be able to tell Ginny about Julianna? He and his sister were close, but even she might worry he’d gone mad if he told her that he’d spent the last week in medieval Scotland.

They reached the building which housed Julianna’s room and he pulled open the door. She entered and he followed, closing the door with some force when the wind gusted into the arched entry. Julianna hurried forward and Cailean followed. They passed nine doors before she stopped and entered her assigned quarters. Cailean stopped in the doorway. One large round candle cast a dim light in the small room, aptly named a cell. A low bed with a thin mattress sat against the wall and a table where the candle burned stood against the wall directly ahead.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Ye may enter, Cailean.”

He shook his head. “I’d better not.”

She lifted a brow. “Surely, ye are not afraid of a woman?”

“If I wasn’t, I would be a fool.”

Mischief lit her eyes. “Ye need not worry. I dinnae have a knife.”

“I don’t believe you, my lady.”

She lifted her chin. “It isnae polite to call a lady a liar.”

“Forgive me.” He started to turn, then stilled at the echo of approaching footsteps. “Bloody hell,” he muttered. Who was coming by at this time of night? Was it Rathais, here to finish what Hugh Murray had started?

“Quick.” Julianna grasped his arm and pulled him into the room.

“Julianna—”

She closed the door, then hissed, “Shhh.”

The footsteps drew closer then passed. Julianna took off her cloak and tossed it onto the small table.

Cailean knew he should go, but how could he possibly leave her alone and defenseless? He would sleep outside her door.

“I should go.”

She shook her head. “You must wait a few minutes to be sure no one sees you.”

Cailean leaned a shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “If I didn’t know better, I would say ye are trying to keep me here.”

“Why would I do that?”

He smiled. “You tell me.”

“Is my company so abhorrent that you must flee?” she asked.

“On the contrary, your company is too pleasing.”

She dropped her gaze in a clear attempt to hide her expression, but Cailean could see she was pleased.

“Then stay,” she said.

“If your brother catches me here, he will kill me.”