“What do ye think ye are doing?”
She stopped. “Am I not going in the right way?”
They weren’t going to have that argument again. “Ye are.”
“Then I am walking back,” she answered.
“Ye are going to ride on Baron.”
“I…I prefer to walk.”
“But I doona.” He grabbed Baron’s reins and moved in front of her, causing her to halt once more. “We can be back at the castle in five minutes if we both ride. Ye can get into dry clothes and sit by the fire with a mug of hot cider to warm yourself.”
Juliana looked down the road and then up at Baron, but she didn’t move.
Rory sighed. “I promise I willna molest ye. Can ye nae bear to ride with me for five minutes?”
She looked at him quickly, her face turning pale, then blood rushing back. “It… is…I mean, I…”
“Ye doona have to say any more.” He bent and intertwined his hands to make a stirrup. “Just get on the horse.”
She gave him a doubtful look, and he hoped he wasn’t going to actually have to lift her onto Baron’s back. He’d never been accused of taking advantage of any female, and she might see it that way.
“Please.”
Juliana took a deep breath, then grabbed the saddle and put her booted foot in his hands. Once she was on Baron, he vaulted up behind her, careful not to touch or put his arms around her. “Ye can take the reins. Baron kens the way.”
Then he spurred the horse forward, and they galloped toward the castle.
…
She’d insulted Rory. She’dhurthim. Juliana knew she had when he wouldn’t even put his arms around her to handle the reins. It was a good thing Baron knew where the stable with his hay and oats was waiting, because her hands were incapable of guiding him.
She felt numb all over. How could she make Rory understand that it wasn’thimshe had shunned? That sheer terror had overcome her when she’d felt his manhood press against her stomach? That the memory of the rape she’d endured had washed over her like storm waves crashing on shore? Vivid, horrible details had pushed her beneath that raging sea and swept everything from her mind except the need to struggle to the surface and breathe. To untangle herself. To survive.
It wasn’t something she couldtellhim.
Not wanting to ride with him was an entirely different matter. She didn’t trust herself to his touch. For those few moments while he was kissing her, she’d been lost to the sensation of his mouth—and his tongue—doing all sorts ofpleasurablethings, and she’d felt herself falling into a dark abyss of wanting…something. Ofsurrendering. Of letting him continue…and then the terror had struck.
When an iota of her mind had returned to sanity, she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t panic again if she were enclosed within his arms while on Baron. It sometimes took an hour after one of the nightmares to calm down. She couldn’t take the chance of going completely mad with him.
I obviously don’t need to worry about that, she thought as they arrived at the castle. Rory slipped off Baron’s rump without so much as a whisper of a touch to her person. When a groomsman came running to take Baron, Rory asked that the man assist her in dismounting and led Baron away himself. He couldn’t have made his point more clear that he wasn’t he going tomolesther. He wasn’t going to have anything more to do with her at all.
To her added chagrin, she now noticed the group of people assembled near the front door of the castle. Several of the men were dressed for riding, no doubt about to search for her. Sima, Greer, and Aileen had relieved expressions on their faces.
“Come with us, Morag,” Aileen said as they started down the steps toward Juliana.
Morag stayed where she was, her gaze following Rory going to the stables, then she gave Juliana a speculative look, her eyes narrowing as she did. Instead of doing as Aileen requested, she turned and went inside, slamming the door behind her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Most of the next day was spent decorating the great hall. The male servants helped the maids string ivy and hang holly branches in hard-to-reach spaces, and there was a great deal of giggling from the women—as well as big grins from the men—when they were deciding where to put the mistletoe.
Juliana didn’t want to think about mistletoe. She’d tried to put on a cheerful face, but it was hard to join in the general merriment that was affecting Aileen and Greer. Even Morag was being pleasant, although Juliana thought that was probably because she had taken special interest in helping place the mistletoe, no doubt in anticipation of luring Rory to a sprig. And, after what had happened betweenthem, he’d probably be more than willing to acquiesce to Morag’s invitation.
At least she hadn’t had to face Rory since they’d returned yesterday. Sima, concerned that she might have stayed out too long in the cold and could become fevered again, had insisted she take a hot bath and had sent up a tray to her room. Juliana didn’t argue the point, and she’d even taken advantage of that assumption by sleeping in late. By the time she went downstairs, Rory had left. He’d ridden out with the laird and Calum, who were delivering personal invitations to surrounding neighbors for the Christmas ball tomorrow night.
“Ye are awfully quiet. Does Christmas nae excite ye?” Greer asked. “Or are ye nae feeling well?”
