“You…what?”
“I ken ye didna want anyone else to find out, but it was the one thing I kenned would stop her.” He touched his face. “I didna want to tell ye, but ’tis how I got the bruise.”
“She slapped you?”
“Nae. She punched me quite proper.”
“I…I am so sorry.”
“I should have expected it.” He held out his hand. “Let’s see if ye can walk.”
Juliana started to get up, then winced and fell back. “I do not think I can.”
Rory leaned down, scooped her up, and carried her to the horses. “I doona think ’tis broken, but ye might have a sprain. We may have to stay at Dalwhinnie a day or two.”
“I seem to be an ongoing burden to you,” Juliana said even as her arms wound around his neck.
“Ye are nae a burden, lass.” He grinned to make her feel better. “Ye hardly weigh anything at all.”
Juliana rolled her eyes. “You know that is not what I meant.”
“Do I?” Then he sobered as he clenched her closer. “At least Morag can do no more damage.”
…
Neal Cameron looked around the MacLean bailey, trying to find his second-in-command in the firelight and smoke from the Yule bonfire. The hour was not yet late, but couples were already beginning to drift away. He had to find his men before they took to their beds for a night of wenching.
He fingered the letter in the pocket of the coat he wore. It had arrived two days ago and bore no outside address. He’d almost not seen it, since it had been in a stack of mail tossed on a small table in the foyer. He hadn’t recognized the handwriting, either, and, for a moment, he had contemplated whether it was from someone to whom he owed a debt. Trepidation had turned to elation when he saw the contents, though.
Morag MacDonnell had given him the date MacGregor would be leaving with Juliana and the path he would take.
Seeing his men on the far side of the bailey, he walked over to them. “Mind ye keep clear heads tonight. We ride for Drumochter Pass in the morning.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Rory stood with Juliana in his arms, looking at her unsaddled horse and gauging what to do. They needed to get back on the road toward Dalwhinnie, but the thistle had rubbed a spot on Misty’s back, and the mare might well get buckish again if pressure were put on the spot.
Juliana began to wiggle. “You can put me down.”
“I doona want ye putting any weight on your foot,” he said as he bent and eased her into a sitting position. “I doona think ye broke your ankle, but it would be better nae to risk further injury.”
“Just this once, I will agree that you are right,” she said, wincing a bit when as she settled.
“Well, that’s a first for ye.” Rory grinned to take any sting out of the words. “Ye actually think I may be right about something.”
“I did say ‘just this once.’” Her lips twitched as if she were trying not to smile. “You should not let it go to your head.”
Was she actually jesting with him? He hoped her congenial mood would remain after he said his next piece. “I doona think ye can ride Misty.”
“Of course I can. You might have to help me into the saddle, but once I am on her back, I will be fine.”
He shook his head. “Her back has a sore. Ye will make it worse if ye ride her.”
“I do not want to hurt her, but how will we…” Her voice trailed off as she looked from Misty to Baron. “We cannot ride pillion for miles.”
He wasn’t sure if she thought it would be a burden for the horse or because she didn’t want to be that close to him for that long. The thought rankled. Why would she mind? She’d just acted like she was upset over what he might have done with Morag. She almosthadsounded jealous, although that could be his wounded pride niggling at him. Still, she hadn’t objected to being carried just now. He sighed. She truly was driving him mad. She’d had no choice but to let him carry her. She couldn’t walk. Well, she had no choice now, either.
“We are going to have to.” When she looked contemplative, he waved his hand around. “There is nae a village anywhere near here. We are several hours away from Dalwhinnie and more than three hours from Invergarry. Either way, we will have to ride.” He looked at her. “Do ye want to go back?”
