Page 31 of Edge of Yesterday

Lennox cursed under his breath. “Cailean, here…” He seized Julianna’s waist, and tossed her across Cailean’s thighs.

She grabbed for his shirt as she felt herself slipping off the other side of the horse. His arms wrapped around her and he hugged her close.

He chuckled that same laugh she’d heard earlier, then bent his mouth to her ear. “This is more like it.”

She snapped her head up and frowned. “You will do well to worry about the wound on your arm.”

“My arm will heal.” He settled her against him.

“Gregory, go with them.” Lennox glanced at his cousin.

“Lennox,” Julianna called in a whisper, but he had already melted into the shadows.

Half a mile from John Ramsay’s farm, they emerged from the trees onto the road. Gregory’s horse broke into a canter. Cailean clicked his tongue and his thighs tensed beneath Julianna’s buttocks as he urged the horse to follow. The horse, surprisingly fit for such an ungainly beast, jolted into a run and Julianna seized Cailean’s plaid to keep from falling. He pulled her snug against his chest and she tried to remain as still as possible. The rise and fall of the horse’s gait made her too aware that she was bouncing up and down on a stranger’s lap.

This, she decided, was her brother’s fault. She’d intended to mount behind Cailean to gauge if he might swoon—and to put an end to his and Lennox’s conflict. To her surprise, thus far, Cailean had remained coherent. The horse’s gait jarred on the bumpy road and Cailean grunted. Ah, so his wound did hurt. Julianna groped his arm, felt the bandage slick with blood, and wondered if they should halt so that she could wrap his arm again.

“He is bleeding,” she told Gregory.

“Raghnall is a no’ much farther,” he said. “He willnae die before we arrive.”

The strong heartbeat that thumped against her arm suggested that Gregory was right. But she didn’t like the saturation of the bandage. Julianna released a breath. She would be glad when this night ended.

At last, Raghnall came into view, the stronghold’s curtain walls and four-storied tower dark on the hill against a full moon. Relief swept her at sight of the guards that patrolled the battlements. The silhouette of their pointed hats and spears disappeared in the next moment as the horses carried them around the massive bulk of the keep. Julianna was impressed with the beasts. They had cantered well and now confidently picked their way up the rocky path to the castle’s gatehouse.

“What is that?” Cailean demanded.

Julianna tensed. “What?”

“That.” He pointed at the castle.

“Raghnall?”

“You’re telling me that is Raghnall?” He sounded as if he didn’t believe her.

“Aye.”

“How far from Heatheredge are we?”

“Nearly three miles.” He said nothing more, and she turned to Gregory, “We will take Cailean to Auld Willie’s cottage. No one would dare bother us there with his ghost—”

“Ghost?” Cailean interrupted. “No one told me the Gathering hosted a haunted house.”

“Gathering?” Julianna looked up at him. Did he fear bogles? “You need no’ worry about ghosts. Auld Willie doesnae haunt his home, much as the tongue-waggers insist he does.” Her cousin made the sign against evil. Julianna shot him a warning look. “Dinnae act like a child, Gregory. You have never seen Auld Willie as a ghostie.” Gregory crossed himself and Julianna rolled her eyes.

“So, Gregory, you’re undecided on whether Auld Willie is a bogle or no’?” Cailean said.

Julianna stifled a laugh. Apparently Cailean had noticed her cousin’s contrary warding against evil as well as his crossing himself. Her cousin had never chanced that the old gods lacked sway where the Christian god might not.

She recalled her great-grandfather and the stories he told of mythical beasts, vengeance-seeking ghosts, curses, and other mysteries. His every tale ended the same; with a warning never to doubt the old ways. Julianna didn’t. She teased Gregory, but the evil eye existed, as did the uncanny gift of second sight. Gooseflesh raised on her arms. Sometimes, those who possessed no such gifts sought to create their own magic. Men like Crowe.

“Dinnae worry,” Julianna assured Cailean. “Auld Willie was a harmless old man, though he was not always frail and feeble.” Her throat thickened with emotion. He’d been kind to her when she’d been a wee lass, and she’d loved the graybeard. “Long before we were born, Auld Willie was simply William. He sold his sword arm and fought as a mercenary for the southern Border lords. One raid went badly and the English captured him. Years later, he returned home a broken man, though he told no one what happened.”

She glanced up at the stronghold, reassured by the spears of the night patrol as they strolled the high curtain walls. “He couldnae bear the clash of swords and grew distraught when the garrison men trained. In truth, he wasnae able to look upon the guardsmen on the walls or at the gatehouse. He would sweat and his face would turn white while his limbs shook. And so our great-grandfather built him a cottage. A wee haven in the woods beyond Raghnall’s walls, just far enough from anything that troubled him. But close enough for us to keep him safe. He liked Haven Cottage.”

“The taletellers say he hasnae left,” Gregory said.

“Pah!” Julianna shook her head. “Even if he did haunt the place, he would never hurt anyone. All that matters is that no one save us or Malvina goes near Haven. I can attend to Cailean’s wound properly without my mother knowing he is there.”