Edge of Yesterday (Edge Series Book 1)

by Tarah Scott

  Lennox shook his head. “Give it ten, twenty years, have a bairn or two with Julianna, and we will see.”

  Cailean laughed. “If you feel this way, why didn’t ye stop the marriage?’

  “Julianna wanted ye. And it was my father’s decision whether or no’ to kill you.”

  “I suppose I’m lucky, then, that it was your father who made the decision and no’ you.”

  “That doesnae mean I will no’ kill ye if you hurt her. That includes any lies ye have told causing her pain.”

  Cailean sobered. If it was possible, Lennox would probably reach through time to meet out his revenge.

  “I intend to protect her,” he said. As best he could, at any rate.

  Lennox regarded him, then turned back to the cloth sack resting in his lap and began placing foodstuffs on the log: a loaf of oat-and-barley bread, salted beef strips, and a large chunk of cheese. “She told ye what she saw that night in the woods.” He glanced up at Cailean, flicked a hand at the food. “Eat, man. It will be a long day and hard ride back to Raghnall.”

  Cailean tore off a piece of bread and used the eating knife Lennox offered to slice a bit of cheese. But he wasn’t really hungry and couldn’t halt a glance in the direction of Strone Hall.

  “Ye believe Crowe had something to do with Hugh stealing her.” Lennox reached for a beef strip.

  Cailean jerked his gaze back to him. “Christ, are ye sure you’re not gifted with second sight?”

  “Ye also believe that Crowe knows it was Julianna who saw him.”

  “The thought has crossed my mind.”

  Lennox shook his head. “Hugh would be a fool to join in league with Crowe to kill Julianna.”

  “Hugh didn’t count on you knowing he kidnapped her. And it’s highly possible Hugh didn’t know Crowe intended to kill her.”

  “What reason could Crowe possibly give to convince him to take part in such a scheme?’

  Cailean shrugged. “It could be as simple as convincing him that he should kidnap her to marry her. It would be much easier for Crowe to get to her at Strone Hall than at Raghnall.”

  He could see the wheels turning in Lennox’s mind and him accepting the possibility as a probability.

  “Why did ye no’ tell my father?”

  “Like you, I’m careful about throwing around accusations. Ye already thought I was mad.”

  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.”

  To Cailean’s surprise, Lennox said, “Dinnae worry, Cailean, a man who repeats gossip is nothing more than an old woman.”

  Lawren frowned. “Are ye taking his side?”

  “He is my brother-in-law.” Lennox’s gaze hardened. “And Lady Julianna is my sister.”

  “She was to be my wife,” he snarled.

  Cailean rested his hand on Triumph’s hilt. “I seem to remember her turning down your proposal.”

  The knight’s face reddened and Cailean read his intent an instant before he lunged. Cailean yanked his sword from its scabbard and swung the blade in an arc that collided with Lawren’s sword with such force that the clang of steel hurt his ears. Lawren bellowed in rage and jabbed at Cailean’s ribs. Cailean dodged him by a hair and parried right. Bloody hell, he was going to have to start wearing chain mail at all times.

  Men crowded around the Red Lion entrance with Lennox and watched as Lawren forced Cailean back several paces before Cailean managed a blow to his arm. Triumph glanced off Lawren’s mailed shoulder. Dammit, he didn’t want to kill the man. Lawren slashed at Cailean’s arm and cut his shirt.

  “Goddammit,” Cailean cursed.

  “Bloody blasphemer,” someone muttered.

  Lennox wasn’t wrong. Lawren was an excellent swordsman. Cailean’s
fury had died enough for him to know it wasn’t Lawren he was angry with. The man was only reacting as expected. If not for Cailean, Julianna probably would have married him and lived a contented life.

  The knight feinted left, then swung right and came within an inch of slicing Cailean’s nose. Anger flashed anew and he advanced on the man with a vengeance.

  “I gave ye every chance to back off,” he growled.

  Lawren retreated three paces, then spun and dodged. Cailean whirled, barely missing Lawren’s blade as it whizzed past his shoulder. Cailean saw an opening, jabbed at his ribs, tearing through the mail shirt. He leapt in and rammed the hilt of his sword against the side of Lawren’s head. The knight crumpled to the ground without so much as a peep.

  Cailean stumbled back a pace, breathing heavily. He stared for a long moment, then stepped over him, headed for the Red Lion. The men parted as he pushed through the door to enter the public room, then followed him inside.

  The innkeeper hurried over to Cailean and Lennox, pushing his way through the throng. “Good men, what can I bring—”

  “The strongest liquor ye have,” Cailean ordered as he dropped into a seat at the nearest table.

  The innkeeper bustled away, returning almost as quickly with two small cups of sharp-smelling uisge beatha. Cailean drank the whisky in one gulp, not even wincing as the fiery spirits sped down his throat.

  “Another.” Cailean wiped his mouth and thrust the empty cup at the innkeeper.

  The man looked at him and Cailean knew he was waiting for payment.

  “My brother-in-law Lennox Grray is paying,” Cailean said.

  The man waited as Lennox pulled a leather money purse from his belt and slapped it on the table. “You’ll have your coin when we leave,” he said, patting the pouch. “For now, I will have the same.”

  The innkeeper nodded and refilled Cailean’s cup. He drained it while the man poured for Lennox.

  “Ye seemed certain I would pay.” Lennox sat back, looking at him.

  “Why no’? Ye made a tidy sum on betting I would win.”

  “I didnae bet ye would win.”

  Cailean’s eyes narrowed. “I might have been fighting, but I heard ye. Dinnae deny it.”

  Lennox downed his cup, then set it on the table. “I bet ye would last at least five lunges at Lawren, nae more.”

  “We need more uisge beatha,” Cailean called to the man behind the bar, then he turned back to Lennox. “Neither you nor Julianna seem to have much faith in my swordsmanship.”

  “On the contrary, there are very few men who could walk away from Lawren’s blade, much less send him sprawling into the dirt. Yet ye knocked him on his arse.” To Cailean’s surprise, Lennox chuckled. “The bastard needed a good setdown.”

  “Ye make it sound like luck.”

  “When fighting a man of Lawren’s skill, a man hopes for a little luck.”

  He had a point.

  “Ye didnae try to stop him,” Cailean said.

  “If ye cannae hold your own, you will no’ live long in Heatheredge.”

  “You weren’t worried that Julianna might have been angry if ye came home with the news that I died in a swordfight?” he asked.

  “That would have been a problem.” Lennox drank his whisky in a flourish. “Cider,” he called to the innkeeper.

  The man brought brimming mugs, then started to turn away. Lennox grasped his arm. “Bring us the jug.”

  He did as instructed, and Lennox said to Cailean, “It might have been better if ye had killed him, though.”

  “Aye, but he’s just a man protecting what he thought was his.”

  Lennox regarded him. “Most men wouldnae see it that way.”

  “No, they wouldn’t,” he said.

  Lennox drank his cider then refilled his mug.

  “Ye drink enough of that and you won’t be able to get on your horse,” Cailean said.

  “I think ye are speaking of yourself.” Lennox took a long draw on his cider.

  The room blurred, but Cailean followed suit and gulped his cider. He glanced about the low, dark-raftered room as Lennox topped off both their mugs. He should be drinking in the medieval atmosphere—instead of the whisky—savoring the thick haze of burning peat, maybe fingering the ‘ancient’ silver coins, sillers, that Lennox had dropped on the scarred tabletop. Later, once back in modern day Scotland, he’d be glad if he now branded every detail into his memory.

  Instead, he said, “Tell me, brother-in-law,” Cailean leaned toward Lennox, “how many more of Julianna’s suitors will I have to fight?”

  “I think ye are no’ finished with Crowe.”

  His grip on his mug tightened. “Nae, I am not.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Julianna stood beside the kitchen maid, Sue, and peered down into a pot of stew simmering over the fire when a ruckus reached them from the keep’s entry hall. Julianna hurried to the far side of the kitchen, peered into the passage beyond, and across into the great hall. Cailean and Lennox had entered the hall. They were laughing and… She blinked when she realized they were weaving.

  Her mother joined her from the shadows of the passageway and sniffed. “Seems your husband is making himself one of the family.”

  Warmth rippled through Julianna as she watched her brother and husband make their unsteady way past the rows of long tables. It seemed that Lennox was indeed beginning to accept him. He was also debauching Cailean. She smiled. Men were debauched by nature.

  Her father left his privy solar on the far side of the hall and strode to Lennox and Cailean. As if sensing the women’s stares, the men turned as one and looked in their direction. Julianna whirled and raced back to join Sue at the cook fire. She focused her attention on the bubbling stew and silently prayed the men wouldn’t come to the kitchen. Of course, they did. Their bootfalls echoed down the short passage as they neared. They entered and she looked up as if only just seeing them. Julianna didn’t miss the covert glance Sue cast Cailean. The girl was too brazen.

  “Husband,” her mother said, intercepting the men just inside the kitchen’s arched entry. “How fared your business with Hugh Murray?”

  “The coward wasnae there,” Lennox answered before his father could.

  Her mother gave a slow nod. “He is in hiding.”

  “So it seems.” Her husband’s face hardened. “He can cower all he wants. We will find him.”

  Julianna pretended interest in Sue’s stew, but from the corner of her eye, she saw Cailean walking toward her. He reached her, leaned a hip against the nearby table, and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Hello Julianna.”

  She looked at him and lifted a brow. “Ye have been drinking more cider, I take it?”

  “A bit,” he replied. “What are we having for dinner?”

  “Mutton stew.” She smiled. “Cook has a special recipe. Some say it is the best between here and Inverness.”

  “Sounds delicious.” He leaned forward to peer into the heavy iron cauldron. “It smells good, too.”

  She smiled. “It is.”

  His eyes gleamed. “I ken other things I’ve an appetite for this night.”

  Julianna flashed him firm a look. “Just how much cider did ye drink?”

  He stared for a moment, then straightened and stepped closer to the hearth. He again looked down into the steaming pot and whispered, “No’ enough to interfere with my duties.”

  She frowned in confusion then realized what he meant. Heat warmed her cheeks.

  He lifted a brow. “I thought ye said you didn’t embarrass easily.”

  She didn’t and that confused her.

  Amusement twinkled in his eyes.

  “Ye are teasing me.” She straightened.

  He grinned. “Perhaps.”

  “Cailean,” Lennox called across the kitchen.

  Cailean looked over at him and swayed a bit on his feet.

  Lennox weaved a tad as well, even appeared somewhat owl-eyed. “Come,” he said, “
we will sit in the great hall.”

  “Aye, right.” Cailean nodded, then glanced at Julianna, “Will ye manage without me?”

  “Can ye cross the hall without falling flat on your face?” Julianna lifted a brow. “Shall we see?” she shoved gently at his chest. He stepped back a pace, then yanked her into his arms.

  He looked down at her. “Are ye all right?”

  “Be gone,” she ordered with mock sternness.

  He planted a quick, hard kiss on her mouth, then released her and strode from the kitchen with her brother and father. She stared at Cailean’s back until he disappeared, then realized the kitchen had grown quiet and the women—her mother included—were staring. The knowing glint in her mother’s eyes told her that she recognized that Julianna had fallen in love with her husband.

  *

  It felt strange to Julianna to sit between her brother and her husband during the evening meal. She twisted the linen napkin in her hand, as nervous as a new bride. Surely she wasn’t worried about sharing a bed with Cailean tonight?

  Butterflies skittered across the insides of her stomach. God help her, that was exactly what she worried about. He’d continued to drink ale with dinner, but she would wager not as much as he’d drunk while at Heatheredge. Still, she half expected him to retire early to their bedchamber and fall asleep. Instead, when they finished the meal, he joined Lennox and Brodie at the hearth where they played chess. Half a dozen men stood around the table, engrossed in their game.

  The others had left the table, leaving her alone with her mother and father. Usually, she would excuse herself and withdraw to her chambers to read or help her mother study the household rolls before retiring. Tonight, however, she felt uneasy about everyone knowing she would be waiting in bed for her husband.

  “He is handling himself quite well,” her mother said.

  Julianna agreed. He seemed completely at home.

  Her father leaned back. “I like him. I have sent men to Cumyrnald to learn more about him.”

  Julianna jerked her gaze from Cailean onto her father. “Ye just said you liked him.”

  “Aye, but that doesnae mean we should no’ learn more about him. I am a good judge of character, but I can be wrong.” She frowned and he smiled gently. “I have no reason to think anything is amiss. It is just a precaution.”