The Highlander's Warrior Bride (5 page)

Julianna was worth a hell of a lot more than most of them—if not all of them.

“Myra was attending her a few days ago, but said Julianna turned a different corner.”

“What does that mean?”

“She’d been friendly and open, welcomed Myra, but then suddenly thrust her out. Hasn’t opened the door for anyone in a couple days.”

“Is she eating?” Ronan’s gut twisted. Daniel’s words weren’t offering him any comfort. If anything they only confirmed what he’d thought earlier. That something was amiss. He would find out what was going on with Julianna later. Now he had more pressing issues to attend too.

Daniel shrugged. “I didna think much on it. I was mostly concerned for my wife. Had to comfort her.” He grinned mischievously. “Had to distract her.”

Ronan rolled his eyes. “I’m glad ye’re happy in marriage, cousin, but I’d just as soon not hear about your rutting.”

Daniel laughed heartily at that. “Ye’re just jealous.”

Ronan crossed his arms over his chest
, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. “Jealous?” Ronan snorted. “I’m not jealous in the least.”

Wallace guffawed. “Then ye must have a penchant for cock, because nearly every man at this castle is jealous of Daniel, including myself.” His face turned dark and he returned his gaze to the landscape.

“I’ve no need for a wife.” Ronan wasn’t about to back down.

“Just a particular lass, then?” Daniel pushed.

“Nay. None.”

“Och, man, will ye give it up? Even the stones know ye have a liking for the lass.” Wallace snorted with disgust. “Dinna make us all out for fools by denying it.”

“My desires have nothing to do with my wants.”

“That doesna even make sense,” Daniel muttered.

“It doesna have to make sense to ye.” Anger built a small fire in Ronan’s chest. He didn’t have to explain himself to these louts. They didn’t know anything about him. They didn’t know what his plans for the future were, or what he could or couldn’t handle. They could go jump in the frozen loch.

“Ye’re right, Ronan. Apologies. I once thought the same way. Know this, if ye ever need anyone to talk to, I’m your man.” Daniel clapped him on the back and changed the subject. “Did ye see the bastard when ye attacked?”

Ronan frowned and shook his head. “Nay. We watched for a short time to ascertain the layout of their camp. What we thought was Ross’ tent turned out to be the one holding Julianna—most likely the same one that held Myra. She was surrounded by retainers.” Ronan put his hands on his hips and glanced over the castle, wondering where Julianna was. “I dinna know what spooked her, or if the Lord looked down on us because when we attacked, Julianna had begun to fight.” Ronan explained the falling warrior, what he saw when he entered, and how she’d thrown her dagger. “She’s a fierce wench.”

“How does she know how to fight like that?” Daniel asked, his brows furrowing. “Myra can defend herself, but I am not certain she’d be able to ward off several vengeful warriors.”

Wallace cleared his throat. “Julianna has had some training.”

“Some training?” Daniel and Ronan said at the same time.

“Aye.” Wallace headed toward the stairs
ending the conversation. “I’ve a need to speak with the Bruce.”

“Wait,” Ronan said. “Are we going to devise a plan regarding Ross?”

“Aye. But it will have to wait.”

Frustration dug deep. Seemed like the
re were a lot of secrets Ronan wasn’t privy too. As soon as Laird Ross was dealt with, he would get to the bottom of one particular question—just who in the hell Julianna was.

He stared after Wallace, then turned his attention to Daniel. “What news?”

“From the newcomers, we’ve learned to expect Longshanks in two to three months’ time.”

Ronan shook his head,, ignoring the dull ache in his temple.
“I’ll have to work with the new recruits right away.”

Daniel nodded. “Aye. There are a good many of them.
Half have had extensive training, and willna require too much of your time. The other half I’d be afeared for my life if I were to fight beside them in battle. They might get confused and start hacking at me.” Daniel chuckled, crossed his arms over his chest. “But with your training, I wouldna be surprised if ye have them fully competent within a month’s time.”

“I thank ye for the confidence.”

“No need. That’s one thing ye’ve always been good at, cousin. No one ever need fear ye were not a good leader or warrior. I’d have ye at my back, even with your sad shoulder.”

Ronan rolled his eyes. “I think the tip was poisoned.”
That jest reminded him of something Julianna had said. He frowned and pursed his lips. “I need to see about something.”

She’d mentioned poisoning her weapons. What kind of a woman would need to do such a thing? Ronan intended to find out.

Chapter Five

J
ulianna waited outside the stables until the groomsmen left for the evening meal. Didn’t these lads get hungry? Heavens. She leaned up against the wooden wall, counted to over a thousand, and watched her breath go from steam to frosty clouds. ’Twas cold.

Her
stomach growled, reminding her that she’d not partaken in the morning meal and she’d missed nooning. She’d helped to prepare the bread, smelled its delicious, comforting scent as it baked, but then she’d slipped out before taking her usual chunk smothered in honey.

God’s teeth!
She couldn’t go about this chore without food. Ever since she’d kissed Ronan, her mind wouldn’t function properly. A ninny, that’s what she was becoming.

Stifling a curse and kicking a frozen clump of snow, Julianna trudged back toward the castle. If she was not waylaid, she could pack a satchel and be back at the stables before the lads returned to tend to the horses.

Julianna picked up speed, lifting her thick wool skirt for a quicker pace. She would not be delayed. Not by anyone. She hadn’t discussed her plans with Robert—he’d only see to it that she remained behind. But who was he to tell her anything? Well…he was the future king, never mind the answer to that question.

There was a mess that had to be cleaned up. By her. She was the only one who could take care of it, and she’d not let it go untended.

She crept around the back of the castle, and wrenched open the door that led into the store room. At least she had the tenacity to take the board off the door last night. So, maybe part of her brain was working.

When the door closed behind her, Julianna was pitched into blackness. Blazes! She hadn’t thought to bring a flint and torch. Damn Ronan. She might just get herself killed if she didn’t put him out of her mind.

But, that was easier said than done. The memory of his hand gripping the back of her head—so possessive and sensual at the same time—refused to leave her. Whether awake or asleep, she saw his face, felt his lips on hers. She could still feel the faint tickle of his warm breath on her cheek. Her flesh burned. Her body ached for his touch. She savored the memory before cursing herself again.

“Damn him!” He made her want things she’d never dreamt about before. Never dared to want.

They weren’t in the stars for her. Love. Romance. Kisses. Those were things other lasses dreamed of. Not Julianna. Julianna dreamed of swords. Knives. Poisons. The best way to attack with the least injury to one’s person and the most damage done to your opponent. Those were her dreams. Ronan was changing that, changing her. He was opening her eyes to things she’d been denied. Things she’d shunned. Laughed at. How could this be happening? She was strong, tough, resilient. No man could break through her defenses. Things like this didn’t happen—not to her. But it was, and worst of all, she wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to feel her breasts crushed to the hardness of his torso, to delight in the rise and fall of his chest against her own.

Julianna made
her way down the stairs to the store room, one hand holding up her skirts and the other sliding over the stone wall, keeping her balanced. The stairs were always damp. She didn’t know why. But being damp and worn made them slick. And dangerous. Not being able to see didn’t help matters. If she were to trip she could break her neck. She had to go slow and be extra careful. The task took twice as long as it would have if she had only brought a torch or candle. Damn her conflicted mind.

What had Ronan done to her? No matter how preoccupied she’d been in the past, she’d still been able to perform her duties. It had to be more than the kiss. It was like she’d suffered a poisoning. Not the lethal poison she rubbed onto her blades, but some other toxin. The kind that made one’s heart soft. ’Twas changing her, and she didn’t like it.

A thought started to brew deep in her mind. Had part of her chosen to be so haphazard because she hoped to fail? Julianna stopped and gazed into the darkness, the idea jolting her.

Nay. She’d never shirk her duties.

Continuing her descent, she refused to think about what tricks her subconscious was trying to play on her. Her duty was to Robert, to Scotland. She had to rid the country of one of its greatest foes.

And she needed to do it with a clear head.

Rounding the last step, Julianna searched the shelf to her right for the flint and torch she knew would be there. Moments later the storeroom came to life in a soft glow. Barrels of ale and wine. Jugs of whisky. Baskets of stored vegetables and fruits. Wheels of cheese and bundles of jerky. A stack of stale oatcakes was shoved onto a shelf. The scents were overwhelming, and Julianna had to take a moment to let them sink in. Anything off could have her gagging, but the smells in the storeroom were fairly pleasant.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped further into the room and grabbed a bundle of jerky and a
few of the hardened oatcakes. The cakes were usually eaten within a day or two of baking. Those left over were stored for emergency use, until they grew moldy. Luckily, these were not yet rotten. She should have pilfered a few when she was in the kitchen.

A bag. She needed a bag. With a glance around, she found a small woolen bag that had been used to bring in grain. Julianna stuffed the food into the bag, took some carrots, then
swiped a hunk of cheese. Only apples sat on the shelves and she had no interest in them. That ought to do it. She didn’t need wine or ale, her wineskin was already filled with water.

With provisions in hand, she made her way up the stairs—fully lit this time, and sent a prayer up to the Heavens she hadn’t slipped on the onion left idle on the middle stair. She tucked it into her sack and continued on.

Now all she had to do was sneak into the stables. Last eve she’d placed a bag with her weapons and an extra plaid in her horse Brave’s stall. Hopefully none of the groomsmen had taken it upon themselves to give her warhorse a rub down. No one was allowed to touch her horse. She hoped she’d made that clear. He preferred her touch over anyone else’s, so that was a comfort. ’Twas important. Her horse trusted no one else. In battle they were each other’s protection.

Trying for nonchalant, Julianna traipsed across the courtyard, and headed to the back of the stables. She kept her head down so she didn’t catch anyone’s eye or bring attention to herself.

She slipped inside. All was quiet save the soft breathing of each horse and the occasional nicker. Even still, Julianna used cautious steps in approaching Brave. There were rows of horses on either side of the main walk. Double doors in the front and a smaller door at the back—although one could still fit a horse through it.

Dark as night and shiny in the coat, her horse was a beauty. His mane was wavy, long and sometimes made her jealous considering her own untamed locks.

“Hello, boy,” she said softly, stroking over his muzzle. Brave lipped at her palm. “Ah, ye want a treat do ye?” She pulled one of the carrots from her bag and handed it over.

As fierce as he was, Brave was also quite a pampered, spoiled horse.

Julianna unlatched the stall door, wincing at the screeching of metal. The lads hadn’t oiled up the hinges. Slacking on the job. She’d have a word with them about that when she returned.

“Back up, Brave,” she cooed, until her horse moved enough for her to get into the stall.

Her bag of weapons and supplies were where she’d left them. Brave’s saddle and bridle hung on the back wall. Another one of her requests from the stable hands. There were many times she had to hurry, and trying to locate her saddle and lug it down took too much time. Brave was her horse. Her responsibility and she didn’t need anyone’s help. She could saddle Brave as well as any man. No matter how much Robert argued with her about it.

Besides, if she were to ever get trapped somewhere, handling the weight of a saddle and knowing how to properly place it on a horse
, was an important bit of knowledge she required.

Julianna ran her hand over Brave’s mane, withers and back, loving how her palm glided over the softness of his fur. His muscles twitched, and Julianna smiled.

“Are ye ready for another adventure?” she asked.

Brave snorted and turned his head toward her, nipping gently at her shoulder.

“I’ll take that as an aye.”

Just as her hand touched the saddle, the doors to the stable opened and voices carried down the row to Brave’s stall.

She gritted her teeth and ducked, backing into the front left corner where she knelt, hopefully to remain unseen. Above her head was a deep ledge attached to the plank boards beside the gate, mostly used for setting tools on when working with the horses. She hoped it would keep her hidden. Most of the stall was bathed in shadow. If they didn’t look too closely, they’d miss her completely. Gratefully, Brave pretended as though she weren’t there, went about munching on some hay, like it was completely usual for his lady to duck in his stall. Julianna pressed her back to the wood, wishing she could melt right into it, and tried to make out the voices. Sounded like one of the lads and…Ronan.

No, it couldn’t be. What the hell was he doing in here?

Had he somehow figured out her plans?

Julianna shook her head, told herself to quit being such a ninny. There was no way he could have figured that out. No one could have. She didn’t tell anyone, she’d simply disappeared.
He probably had need of the lad for his own horse.

“This is Lady Julianna’s horse, right here,” the stable hand said, right above her head.

Julianna wanted to groan, her head hurt from the force it took to keep it in. She twisted her fingers in her skirts, closed her eyes like that might make her invisible. If Ronan spotted her it wouldn’t be good. She’d have to knock him over the head with something so she could get away. Hurting him
again
, wasn’t on her list of things to do. He just needed to leave on his own. She shouted at him in her mind to go away. Willed him to leave. It didn’t work.

He stopped outside Brave’s stall, and from the sounds of it, propped his elbows on the shelf above her head. She held her breath and leaned even closer to the wood.
Please dinna see me. Go away!

“This is her horse, huh?” Ronan sounded just as shocked as every other man did when they found out what type of horse she rode.

“Indeed, sir.”

“’Tis a bit big for a lass, isn’t it?”

Oh, the brute! Thinking she couldn’t handle a beast as magnificent as Brave.

“With all due respect, sir, Lady Julianna is one of the best
riders I’ve ever seen. She has a way with horses, she does.”

Julianna smiled,
and caught herself from agreeing out loud.

“Is that right?”

There was no reply, ’haps the boy nodded.

“Well, I see the horse is still here.”

“Did ye doubt it?”

“There’s a bit of worry over where she is.”

“Oh,” the lad said, his voice filled with concern.

God’s teeth!
Why were they looking for her?

“I’ll keep my eye out for her, sir,” the lad said eagerly.

“My thanks. Let me know if ye see her, or if the horse disappears.”

“I will for certes.”

The voices receded, their booted feet making soft thudding noises on the dirt-packed, straw strewn lane.

Anger zinged through Julianna’s veins. How dare Ron
an come looking for her? As though she were his woman or something. One damn kiss, that’s all it was, and she doubted he even remembered it. The man had been burning up with fever. Almost delirious. It had meant nothing. At least that’s what she kept telling herself.

But, if she were honest, he’d laid a claim o
n her far before their kiss. They’d bantered back and forth, played this game of pull and push for weeks, maybe months. She couldn’t recall. Didn’t want to remember.

The man was not going to stand in her way.

No one was.

As soon as she heard the doors close and silence reigned for sixty seconds, she clambered to her feet, dusted off the straw and nearly stepped in a pile of horse manure. Wow. Close call, she could have sat right in it.

With eyes wide and a deep sigh of relief, she grabbed the horse’s plaid blanket, saddle and reins and worked as quickly as she could to get them all into place properly. She covered most of Brave’s body with the plaid, braided his hair and covered his face with a cloth meant to keep a horse’s head warm. Every sound, creak, horse stomp and whine, she imagined Ronan coming through the doors and seeing what she was about.