Page 115 of Edge of Yesterday

She thought for a moment, then gave a slow nod. “He is a small man.”

“He is a dangerous man,” Cailean corrected. “He will do anything—anything—necessary to have his way.”

“How I wish we could prove he is a follower of Satan.”

“The accusation alone would be disastrous for him.”

“Perhaps.” She shook her head. “We have been accused of dealing with the devil, and we are still here. Not to mention, ye dinnae understand how deep runs Alexander’s love for Crowe.”

“Has Alexander called for him since I’ve been here?”

Julianna shrugged. “Ye have been here less than a week. Last I heard, Alexander was in Inverness to witness charters for another lord. When he returns, the two of them will be inseparable. That is why my father must be careful. An accusation from Crowe against him will be far more disastrous for us than any claim we can make against Crowe.”

“I find it strange that Crowe stirs trouble for your father while petitioning for your hand in marriage.”

She gave a snort. “He hasnae openly accused my father, he doesnae have the bollocks for that, but we know he has been whispering in Alexander’s ear.”

“And you know this because…” Cailean gave a slow nod. “You have a spy in his camp.”

She smoothed her skirt. “I am no’ privy to such things.”

Cailean laughed. “My la—” He stopped short when her eyes snapped up, and amended, “Julianna, ye dinnae play the innocent well.”

Her expression darkened and Cailean cursed under his breath, then her face cleared and she said, “Ye prefer the wanton woman?”

His cock jerked with the memory of her kneeling before him at the abbey.

A small smile curved her lips and he knew she was well aware of the affect she had on him. Cailean hadn’t prayed since his mother’s death, but he wasn’t ashamed to send silent thanks that everyone believed he and Julianna had consummated their marriage last night at the abbey. He’d always laughed at stories of the ancient wedding night tradition where men carried the groom into the bride’s bedchamber, then watched while he deflowered her. The stories were overexaggerated—mostly—but he didn’t relish any further fanfare. To make love to her, then disappear—literally—would make him the worst sort of cad. She deserved better.

Earlier, when Lord Ravenstone sat with him and Lennox and listened to their story of what happened, to Cailean’s surprise, Ravenstone had simply told him to be a good husband to his daughter. Cailean’s relief went beyond being glad the man didn’t try to kill him. The baron had looked at him not as the laird who could order his head severed from his body, but as a father who would protect his daughter with his last breath, but hoped, instead, that the man she married would protect her with the same determination. Cailean had promised to care for and protect her, and that started tonight.

He had to discover how Crowe was moving people around in time, and why, then kill him. Christ, if he thought he could get away with it, he would challenge Crowe tonight. The mother fucker was wearing the talon with no fear of discovery.

The big question that Cailean had asked himself ever since Crowe had walked out of Julianna’s room at the abbey still bounced off his skull: Val Ross must know Cailean gave him that scar. Why, then, did he send Cailean back in time knowing he would do it again? When Crowe entered the great hall wearing the talon, he knew why. Ego. Ego and perhaps a little fear, even if he wouldn’t own up to it. Val was conceited enough to believe Cailean couldn’t beat him a second time. He wasn’t willing to risk Cailean’s body being found in twenty-first century Heatheredge. His ego assured him that Cailean wouldn’t get lucky a second time.

Cailean half wished he could return to the twenty-first century to see Val’s face when he realized he’d failed. Instead, he would kill Crowe before he left fourteenth century Heatheredge. Val wouldn’t live another week, much less six hundred more years. Another question arose among the dozen others he would never get answers to; why had Val Ross changed Heatheredge’s history and said it was the Mackays who had attacked the Ross party? Why had he said it was him who’d returned to Heatheredge and brought them repentance? So many things he’d changed. Cailean released a slow breath. He would never know the answers to any of these questions.

“Do ye hate me?”

Cailean started. “What?”

Julianna stared at the floor.

Cailean placed a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up toward his. “Ye didnae plan for Crowe to show up when he did. It isn’t your fault.”

“I…seduced ye.”

He dropped his hand to his lap and laughed. “Lass, in case you forgot, I was a willing victim.”

“Still—”

“Nae.” He shook his head. “Ye didnae force me to kiss ye.” He smiled. “And I wanted a hell of a lot more.”

She flashed a shy smile. “Tonight, then.” She stood.

He pushed to his feet, the words on the tip of his tongue, but he stopped. What was he going to say? I’m sorry, wife, but I can’t consummate our marriage.

One way or another, he was going to hurt her.