Page 123 of Edge of Yesterday

Lennox nodded slowly. “From now on, ye are to voice your suspicions.”

Cailean wished like hell he could do as Lennox ordered.

It couldn’t have been more than half an hour later when the gates of Strone Hall opened and Ravenstone emerged. Cailean came to his feet alongside Lennox.

“Is this good?” Cailean asked.

Lennox’s gaze remained on his father as he gave his head a single shake.

The baron approached and made the command for his men to mount. By the time he reached Cailean and Lennox, they’d mounted, and both fell alongside him as he rode.

“Murray isnae at Strone Hall,” Ravenstone said. “He is ‘away.’”

“The dog ran,” Lennox said.

The baron nodded. “Lady Bess was shocked that he had stolen Julianna.”

“Do ye believe her?” Cailean asked.

“Aye. She is a God-fearing woman. I have known her my entire life. Julianna said she was sure no one saw her enter and that the household was unaware of her presence.”

“The bastard,” Cailean muttered. “I’ll kill him myself.”

“Patience.” Ravenstone shot him a glance. “He has to return home eventually.”

By the time they’d reached Heatheredge, Cailean had worked himself into a dark mood. All these years, everything he’d believed about the Heatheredge Gathering had been a lie. Not for everyone. For the average champion, someone like Alan McMahon, the Gathering was the pinnacle of a lifetime. So long as he didn’t look too closely. Who else at Heatheredge was part of the conspiracy? He’d wracked his brain trying to figure out how many others like Crowe and Rathais were ‘ancients.’ He couldn’t think of any other word to call a six hundred year old man. How the fuck had they lived that long? Alien invasion? Fountain of youth? Magic?

Julianna had seen Crowe in the woods performing some sort of human sacrifice. Did that have something to do with their longevity? He remembered movies about people who had lived indefinitely by feeding off the blood of human victims. Whatever the answer, he had to find out. Having to figure out what exactly was going on pissed him off as much as having his life ripped from him. If he could kill Crowe and not worry about the whys and hows, he could simply return home. That would unravel the knot that had twisted his belly since he’d made love to Julianna. Not once, but three times. He was a bastard.

The look in her eye when she’d curled up against his chest haunted his every moment. He couldn’t say if it was love, but it was, sure as hell, the precursor. If he stayed, there was no doubt that she would love him, be a faithful wife.

“Have a bairn or two,” Lennox had said.

He wanted children—someday.

His and Juliana’s children would be beautiful.

No. He shook off the thought. God only knew how much he’d screwed up history. When he’d sliced Crowe’s cheek, he’d dispelled any possibility that he’d entered an alternate universe. This was his world, his history…his future.

His only concern now was finding out how Crowe was moving people around in time, and then kill him. He simply couldn’t walk away and let him fuck with people’s lives for the next six hundred years—especially Julianna’s. But he would make Crowe pay dearly—especially for throwing into his arms a woman he couldn’t keep.

Cailean said little as he accompanied Ravenstone and Lennox about Heatheredge. The baron had a myriad of business tasks and eventually urged them to return to Raghnall ahead of him. Cailean was lost in thought as he and Lennox passed the Red Lion Inn, headed for the stables.

“Ross!” a man shouted.

To Cailean’s left, Lennox whirled and he followed suit. Sir Lawren strode toward them across the open stableyard.

“Keep your wits about ye,” Lennox said under his breath. “Lawren is almost as good a swordsman as I.”

“Then I have nothing to fear,” Cailean quipped, but he tensed as the man neared.

The knight stopped five feet from Cailean and drew his sword. “Prepare to die, ye cur.”

“Julianna made her choice, Lawren.” Lennox set his hand on his sword hilt. “Ye must accept that.”

“I heard exactly how that choice was made. He was found in her bed between her—”

“Easy there, friend,” Cailean cut in. “Ye dinnae want to slander my wife’s honor.”