Edge of Yesterday (Edge Series Book 1)

by Tarah Scott

  What would she do if something proved wrong?

  A stir at the great hall’s main entry broke the night’s peace and drew all eyes as two guards strode into the hall with Crowe and John Muir, the sheriff, between them.

  “Dear Lord.” Julianna straightened.

  Her father rose and Lennox looked over his shoulder at the approaching men. He stood and motioned for Cailean to come. Cailean pushed to his feet and they caught up with her father, meeting the men halfway across the hall. Her father directed them to a quiet corner and Julianna held her breath as she watched.

  “Crowe must have information about the men who were killed last week.”

  Julianna jumped at the sound of her mother’s voice.

  Her mother knew? Of course, Julianna thought with frustration. The sheriff wouldn’t conduct a murder investigation without informing her father and, of course, her mother hadn’t said a word. Julianna would wager her mother knew that Cailean came into their lives the day the men died. Julianna considered confronting her, but decided against it. Her mother invariably came out the victor in any such clash, and Julianna didn’t want to lie to her. In truth, she was surprised her mother had agreed to the marriage. She too must have questions about Cailean.

  Fear coiled in her belly. In truth, she, too, had questions.

  Her father was shaking his head. Were they arguing? Crowe’s expression remained impassive. He’d worn that dagger again. She’d never seen him carry that blade before the night in the woods. Now it seemed he carried it everywhere. Julianna leaned forward, her gaze on her father. She could glean nothing from his expression. When he wished, he was a master at hiding his feelings. That was a skill Lennox had learned well, but she hadn’t. Cailean remained calm, and Julianna didn’t yet know him well enough to decide if he wasn’t angry or, like her father, adept at hiding his feelings.

  Crowe shook his head, but was smiling now. Her father nodded and motioned toward her and her mother. The sheriff nodded and the men started forward, crossing the hall toward the high table.

  “More ale and cider,” her mother ordered a nearby lad. “Wine, as well.”

  The boy disappeared toward the kitchens as the men reached the table.

  “Lady Ravenstone.” John Muir gave a slight bow.

  “Lord Sheriff, it is good to see you,” she replied.

  “My lady,” Crowe said, and also bowed. “Lady Julianna.” Crowe angled his head in her direction.

  “Sir,” she replied.

  “My congratulations, Lady Julianna,” the sheriff said.

  “Thank ye,” she said.

  The boy arrived with the cider and wine and the men sat down as he placed mugs and pitchers on the table. Another lad hurried after him, carrying two large jugs of ale.

  Julianna studied Cailean’s expression but could glean nothing. Lennox, too, remained blank. She wanted to scream, but smiled and offered the men food.

  “We have excellent mutton stew, and I am sure oven-warmed loaves can still be had from our kitchens.” She looked between the sheriff and Crowe and the two guards who accompanied them. “Ye are welcome to anything you wish.”

  “No thank ye, my lady.” The sheriff accepted a wine cup from her father. “We dined earlier.”

  Of that Julianna was sure. They dined while conspiring about whatever it was that brought them here. Crowe’s elbow brushed the hilt of his dagger. Julianna fixed on the ornate hilt. Something niggled just out of the reach of memory.

  A long dagger made in the fashion of a massive two-handed sword.

  Where had the thought come from?

  Then she remembered. Father Phillip’s account of the attack on Heatheredge.

  Cailean said he’d seen a dagger like that and she’d told him the design was unusual but not unheard of. Still, how strange was it that Father Phillip described Valdar Ross as carrying one, Cailean had seen one, and Crowe had one?

  “Julianna.”

  Julianna jarred from her thoughts at the sound of Cailean’s voice. Everyone stared at her.

  “Are ye all right?” Cailean said in a sharp tone no longer ale-slurred.

  “Aye,” she said, but her gaze again locked onto the dagger.

  “Ye seem interested in my dagger, my lady,” Crowe said.

  Julianna lifted her gaze to his face. She knew she should smile and say she hadn’t even noticed the dagger. Instead, she said, “It is unusual.”

  He nodded. “It belonged to my father.”

  He grasped the hilt and Cailean and Lennox tensed beside her.

  “Dinnae fash yourselves, lads.” Crowe glanced from Lennox to Cailean. “I only intend to let Lady Julianna examine the blade.” He slowly pulled it, still sheathed in its scabbard, from his belt, then laid it on the table and pushed it toward her.

  She picked it up, aware that Cailean and Lennox stared with disapproval. To her surprise, the blade was lighter than she anticipated. The hilt felt oddly comfortable in her hand. She grasped the ornate scabbard and withdrew the blade. The steel gleamed in the torchlight. It was a magnificent dagger. She set the scabbard down and rubbed her thumb on the edge. Her finger pricked.

  “My lady.” Crowe stood.

  A pinprick of blood welled on her thumb.

  She looked up at him. He stared, expression abashed.

  “I am sorry,” Crowe said.

  The words sounded as if they’d been spoken far away. She gave her head a small shake and realized warm fingers had covered hers. Cailean gently pried the dagger from her grasp.

  “I am glad I didnae let ye use your knife when you changed my bandage the other night,” he said.

  She blinked, then realized what he’d said. Heat filled her cheeks. She knew well how to use a knife, and pricking her finger was a mistake she hadn’t made since she’d been eleven years old.

  “It is my fault,” Crowe said. “The blade is very sharp. I should no’ have allowed ye to touch it.”

  “Nae,” she said. “It was foolish on my part. I know better.”

  Cailean wiped the blade on his sash and a tiny smear of red marred the pale green in the weave. He picked up the scabbard, slammed the knife inside, then flipped it in the air, caught it by the blade end and extended the hilt toward Crowe.

  Crowe slid the sheathed knife blade first into his belt.

  Cailean took a napkin off the table, dipped it into his ale, then grasped Julianna’s hand and cleaned the wound.

  “It’s just a prick,” he said, and she bit back laughter at the thought that he was referring to Crowe.

  *

  Cailean forced his fury into submission and said little until Crowe and the sheriff left.

  “What did they want?” Julianna blurted once the men disappeared into the archway beyond the great hall.

  “They want to question Cailean about the deaths of the men they found outside Heatheredge last week,” Lennox said.

  Julianna looked at her father. “Papa, ye cannae allow it. Crowe is only looking for a reason to get even with Cailean for marrying me.”

  He nodded. “Aye, but we cannae ignore the sheriff’s demands.” She opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her off, “I told him that when Alexander returns we will meet at Heatheredge Tower.”

  Her mouth thinned. “He will try to convince Alexander to do as he wishes.”

  “I plan to speak with him before then. Cailean and I will see him in Inverness.”

  “I cannae leave Julianna,” Cailean said.

  “She will be safe enough here at Raghnall,” Ravenstone said.

  Dread swept through Cailean. She would be vulnerable to Crowe’s mercy while he was away. “Nae. I can’t leave her.”

  “Cailean,” the baron began, but Cailean cut in.

  “You dinnae understand. He will finish what he started with Hugh Murray.”

  Lady Ravenstone looked at him. “Why are ye so certain he was in league with Hugh?”

  Cailean hesitated. He couldn’t tell the truth. Which left him only one option. “I si
mply know.”

  Silence followed for a long moment, then Julianna said, “Crowe cannae hurt me as long as I stay inside Raghnall’s walls.”

  He lifted a brow. “That is a problem, isn’t it Julianna?”

  Lennox dropped his gaze in a clear attempt to hide laughter and even Lady Ravenstone’s mouth twitched in amusement.

  Julianna’s eyes narrowed. “I can stay home, if I choose.”

  “That is no’ in debate,” he said.

  She whipped her head in her father’s direction. “Papa—”

  “Nae, Julianna, ye are married now. You dinnae look to me for guidance.”

  “It isnae guidance I want.”

  “Perhaps that is what ye need,” he replied softly.

  She shrugged. “I suppose, then, that Cailean will no’ go with ye to see Alexander.”

  “It’s more likely you will go with us,” Cailean said.

  Her mouth fell open. “I do no’ want to see Alexander.”

  “You aren’t worried about your husband?”

  “Bah!” she snorted. “Alexander loves Crowe, but he isnae stupid enough to throw Baron Ravenstone’s son-in-law in prison.”

  “Perhaps not,” Cailean said. “But you will be there with us when we find out.” He looked at the baron. “When will we go?”

  “A day, maybe two, should suffice.” The baron rose. “I have more rent and tax accounts to look through before I sleep.” He turned to his wife. “Will you come with me to my chambers?”

  She angled her head in acknowledgement and rose. When they were out of earshot, Cailean said to Lennox and Julianna, “Did ye know the men who died that night?”

  Lennox shook his head. “Nae.”

  Frustration roiled up in him. “How is it that ye were out alone that night, Julianna?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Dinnae think to discipline me, Cailean. Ye may be my husband, but ye are no’ my father.”

  “That isn’t an answer,” he said.

  “As I told you at Reay Abbey, I followed a couple I thought were lovers.”

  “Aye,” he said. “But ye were a long ways from Raghnall—aye,” he added when she started to reply, “I know you were running away from Raghnall. But don’t ye think it was unwise to be out alone like that to begin with?”

  She looked at Lennox. “This is your doing.”

  He shrugged. “I said no’ a word to him. He simply has some sense.”

  Cailean looked at Lennox. “How did ye know she was being chased?”

  “I was visiting friends outside of Heatheredge. Fortunately, she found me at their house.”

  “Then ye lost her.”

  “More like she disobeyed me and didnae stay where I put her.”

  Cailean lifted a brow. “I thought ye were a sensible woman.”

  She looked from one to the other. “The two of you may grouse all you like, but I willnae be bullied.”

  Cailean glanced at Lennox. “She’s a feisty thing, isn’t she?”

  “A pain in the arse, if ye ask me.”

  “Sisters are like that,” he said.

  They stared and Cailean realized his mistake.

  “You have a sister?” Julianna pounced.

  “Nae,” he said.

  But she was shaking her head. “Ye are lying. Why?”

  “Because I lost her and don’t want to talk about her,” he snapped.

  Julianna laid a hand on his arm. “I am sorry.”

  Cailean shook his head. “Nae, it’s my fault. Ye couldn’t know.” He released a breath. “I want to return to Reay Abbey.”

  “Why?” Lennox’s brow creased.

  “Crowe hid his cursing bone there. I’m thinking he might keep other things there, as well.” Not to mention, he wanted to reread that account of the attack on Heatheredge.

  “That dagger he wears is very strange,” Julianna said.

  Cailean started. “What do ye mean?”

  She locked gazes with him. “Do you remember Father Phillip’s words when he wrote about Lady Elizabeth’s arrival?”

  Cailean nodded, heart beating fast.

  “He mentioned Valdar Ross and the dagger he wore,” she went on. “Ye commented that you had seen a dagger like that. I didnae think of it at the time, but the dagger looks like the one Crowe carries. It is the same dagger he had that night. He said the dagger was his father’s. Surely his father couldnae be Valdar Ross?”

  The woman was too damned smart.

  “That is too odd, I dinnae like,” Lennox murmured.

  “It is strange.” Julianna frowned. “But when I pricked my thumb on the blade, for an instant, I was…confused.”

  Cailean’s attention snagged. Disoriented?

  Lennox shook his head. “Ye were remembering that he used the blade in the ceremony that night and it simply made ye feel strange.”

  “Nae,” she said slowly. She shifted her gaze to Lennox. “Ye remember what I told you happened with his staff?”

  “That isnae possible, Julianna.”

  “What happened?” Cailean demanded.

  She hesitated. “When I first arrived, Crowe was holding a staff. It had a stone lashed to the top. The stone glowed.”

  Cailean’s mouth thinned. “What color was the stone?”

  She exchanged a look with Lennox. “Red. A ruby, I imagine.”

  “Fuck.” He collapsed back against his chair.

  “Ye know the staff,” Lennox said. It wasn’t a question.

  How could he tell them it was a wizard’s staff? Well, that part Julianna already believed. But she wouldn’t be able to comprehend that it belonged to a man who lived six hundred years in the future. Bloody hell.

  “I know the staff, aye,” he finally said. They stared, and he added, “I have…seen it.” He winced inwardly.

  Lennox stared for a long moment. “Are ye saying Crowe can truly perform magic?”

  Cailean frowned and Julianna said, “I saw him with the staff. Then, in the next instant, the staff disappeared from his grasp and he held the knife.”

  “Sweet God,” Cailean muttered.

  “Then ye are saying it’s true.” Lennox sounded stunned.

  Cailean nodded slowly.

  Lennox’s mouth thinned. “Ye are both mad.”

  That was exactly how Cailean felt, for he now understood how Crowe intended to send Julianna through time…and how Val had sent him here.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  When the vast abbey walls came into view, Cailean didn’t experience the same excitement he had the first time they’d visited. Now, the early morning mist reminded him more of a vampiric graveyard than the romantic monastery he’d visited three days ago. The guard who set their hurried pace glanced back and Lennox nodded. The man turned around and pulled his worn cloak closer about his shoulders. When they neared the gates, they would draw their ragged plaids and cloak hoods around their bodies and faces to hide their identities—and their weapons. Only the guard would speak, as no one at the abbey knew him.

  Gregory and the horses waited in the forest with a dozen garrison men. Cailean had been torn between leaving Julianna at Raghnall and bringing her. Her threat to follow them decided the matter. In fairness, her fate was just as much at stake as his and he couldn’t deny the relief he felt at keeping her close. Relief or need? Cailean cast a covert glance at her. She hurried between him and Lennox, her own threadbare cloak pulled up over her head. This is where Crowe’s manipulations had to end. No matter what—or who—he found at the abbey, he would kill Crowe as quickly as possible and sort out the rest afterwards.

  Julianna’s head turned in his direction. Their gazes met and he read in her eyes the memory of last night’s lovemaking as he thrust inside her. He’d planned to fall into bed and feign sleep, but she wasn’t to be put off. He’d proven himself a fit husband. She demanded her wifely rights and he hadn’t been able to refuse. And God knows, he’d wanted her badly. She smiled and his chest constricted. He’d fallen in love with her. When he left, she wo
uld recover. He wouldn’t.

  They broke from the trees and he snapped his attention away from the woman who now held his heart. He needed to focus on the task at hand. He dared not risk a distraction.

  They slowed so as to give the impression they were travel-worn beggars. The abbey gates lay open. At least their start had gone well. Lennox nodded to him and he pulled his plaid and hood around his face. They neared the entry and Cailean silently cursed when two riders galloped through the gates. They wore great kilts and swords. Julianna slid a hand into the crook of Cailean’s arm and pulled her worn cloak closer so that none of her flesh was visible. Even the hands of a gentlewoman could give her away. Lennox eased nearer to her and the guard slowed so that he closed ranks around her as she leaned heavily on Cailean and limped.

  With his right hand, Cailean held his cloak closed in the front and kept his left hand on his sword to prevent the blade from pressing out against his cloak. Anyone who spotted Triumph wouldn’t believe for an instant he was a beggar. He kept his head down, but from the corner of his eye, he watched the riders as they approached. Medieval folk were no fools. The men gave them a wide berth and urged their horses into a canter past them. Cailean listened to the retreating clop of horses’ hooves as he, Julianna, Lennox and the guard continued their slow amble through the gates.

  Julianna looked up at him. She flashed a reassuring smile, but he read the fear in her eyes. Hate rocketed through him anew and he wished Crowe was there so he could run his sword through his belly.

  Patience, he told himself for the thousandth time. Crowe won’t escape Triumph.

  This time, instead of staying on the main path through the abbey grounds, they quickened pace and entered a smaller path through the orchards. This new route skirted far west of the main hospital where minor ills and aches were treated and ended at the infirmary known as the leper house.

  The very idea of a leper house still gave Cailean pause. When Lennox had suggested they go there, Cailean had disagreed. The fact no lepers, or those suffering from other dire illnesses, had darkened Reay’s doors since Heatheredge had taken Father Andrew’s first mass—yet another blessing, Julianna had pointed out—didn’t quite ease his concern. He didn’t want to risk Julianna contracting one of those diseases. The area was little-visited and Lennox believed the plumbing and sewage system built beneath the abbey could be accessed there unseen. The reasoning was sound and Cailean had been forced to capitulate.