Page 112 of Edge of Yesterday

Still, that was then.

Just now, she’d been thrust into a situation that went beyond embarrassment.

Julianna held her mother’s gaze, keeping her own as steady. “Lennox should no’ have told you without me present.” Her heart thundered, but she held firm. “He doesnae know all that happened.”

“It wasnae Lennox who told me.”

The pain of betrayal slashed through her. She cast a covert glance at Cailean, but he conversed with Lord Sinclair and seemed not to notice her. “I will have to thank my husband later, when we are alone,” she muttered.

“Cailean did no’ tell me.”

Julianna looked at her. “Who, then?”

“I understand there were many witnesses; priests and even some of your own guards.”

“One of them told you?” Of course they had. “It is good to know that your servants remain as loyal as lap dogs.”

“Dinnae blame them,” her mother’s tone cooled. “They are no’ the ones caught with a man between her legs, then lied and told everyone he was her husband.”

That wasn’t exactly how it happened, but Julianna felt certain her mother knew. “Father could have had the marriage annulled.”

“Why should he?”

Julianna said, “Is this your way of punishing me?”

Her mother looked sharply at her. “Are ye telling me you did no’ want to wed him? I have seen the way ye look at him.”

Julianna winced and hoped Cailean hadn’t overheard her mother. Once again, warmth spread through her cheeks.

Her mother gave a slow nod. “So I thought.”

The door opened and Julianna’s heart leapt into her throat. Crowe entered with Father Andrew. “Mother—”

“Be still, Daughter, and we will see what kind of steel your new husband is made of.”

~*~

Cailean froze in reaching for his goblet and met Crowe’s eyes as he and Father Andrew emerged from the entry arch into the great hall. Red hot fury cascaded through him.

“It seems ye have two more important guests,” Lord Sinclair said. “Lord Crowe willnae be pleased ye married Lady Julianna.” The old man leaned back in his chair. “This should be interesting.”

A hand gripped Cailean’s shoulder before he could reply. Cailean swung his gaze onto Lennox.

“I will see what he wants.” Lennox started forward.

“I’m coming with ye.” Cailean rose.

“We will all go.” Lord Ravenstone brushed past them and led the way.

Cailean could feel the eyes on him, Lennox, and Ravenstone, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from the wound that slashed Crowe’s left cheek in a near perfect half-moon. Cold terror twisted his belly in an eddy of confusion. Crowe and Val Ross were the same man. But how? Cailean had grappled with the question since realizing the truth yesterday and couldn’t escape the only answer that made any sense: Val Ross was over six hundred years old. A wave of nausea swept him.

Get a grip, man, he told himself for the thousandth time. You are no’ in a horror film.

Then where was he?

His sense of the surreal heightened as they neared the two men and Cailean registered the large talon pendant Crowe wore. The very one he’d seen around Val’s neck the night of the Gathering feast—a smaller version he’d seen around Father Andrew’s neck last night. What was going on?

A thought hit. Father Andrew was Lord Rathais. Fuck. His thoughts had been so focused on Crowe that he’d forgotten the priest. That night in Heatheredge Tower flooded back in memory. The joy woman had worn a much smaller version of the talon, but clutching a sprig of heather. He’d seen other guests wearing the talon, as well. The Reay Abbey sanctuary stone bore a carved likeness of the same talon. It had to be a symbol for a secret society, like the Freemasons—and it had started at Reay Abbey.