Maybe she had changed? Emily had commiserated with her after what had happened, since her own marriage wasn’t a good one, but there wasn’t much she could say. Now, however, things were very different for her sister since she’d married Ian. Emily practically glowed, and they were always touching each other. Her sister couldn’t seem to get close enough to her new husband.
However, Juliana hadn’t expected that kind of thing with any man, never mind Rory. He certainly was not in love with her, and she wasn’t in love with him. But he had been there for her and he had not taken advantage, even when he’d had the chance. She trusted him.
Could it possibly be that some of the ice packed around her heart was melting?
…
“Are ye sure ye want to leave today?” Tate asked as Rory was saddling the horses the next morning. “Ye ken ye are welcome to stay.”
“Aye, but they’ll be worried at Strae Castle if we doona get home soon.” Although that was true, he wanted to get Juliana back for another reason. He wasn’t sure how much longer his willpower would hold out over these increasingly strong, lustful urges. Yesterday’s ride had just about done him in. “Besides, we will nae be sure how long the pass could be blocked, so ’tis better we try and beat the storm.”
“I suppose ye are right about that,” Tate answered. “But I doona think ye will be able to make it all the way to Blair Castle before it hits.”
Rory had been thinking about that, too. In good conditions, it would be a solid ten to twelve hours in the saddle. “Hopefully, the mountains will slow the storm down and we can beat it. ’Tis one reason I want to leave by sunup.”
Tate followed him as he led the horses out. To his surprise, Juliana was not only up and dressed for riding, she was waiting on the front steps with her valise and a satchel.
“Mrs. MacDonnell was kind enough to pack us some food,” she said as she handed the bag to him.
He tied it to his saddle along with his whisky and water flasks, then slung her valise over Misty’s saddle before helping her mount. He tried not to think about how his hands fit around her waist under the woolen cloak. He definitely didn’t need his wayward cock to start torturing him this early in the day.
He vaulted onto Baron and dipped his head to Tate. “Many thanks.”
“For naught.” Tate looked up at the sky where low-hanging clouds obliterated the rising sun. “There is a royal hunting lodge about halfway to Blair Atholl on the other side of the pass. ’Tis called Dalnacardoch. Ye could take refuge there if ye need it.”
Rory raised an eyebrow. “Is it open this time of year?”
“Nae. ’Tis most likely empty.” Tate’s mouth twitched. “But ’tis the king’s responsibility to abide by Highlander hospitality if he has a lodge here, is it nae?”
Rory nodded. The idea of King George offering hospitality—to anyone anywhere who wasn’t an aristocrat—was about as likely as a mermaid popping out of the loch. But then, the king wouldn’t know, would he? “I will keep it in mind.”
“God’s speed, then.”
With a wave, Rory turned Baron down the carriageway to the road, Misty following of her own accord. He glanced at Juliana, huddled in her cloak against the morning cold.
“How is your ankle?”
“Much better. I put the rest of the poultice on it, and Mrs. MacDonnell had a clean bandage to wrap it tight.”
“It didna hurt to walk on it?”
“Only a little. The boot helps support it.” Juliana reached down to pet Misty’s neck. “And how is she doing?”
“She’ll be fine. I made an extra pad of my dirty shirt so the saddle blanket wouldn’t rub her if she was still sore.”
“That was clever of you.”
He grinned at her. “Aye, I can be clever.”
Her mouth quirked. “First you tell me you are likable and now clever. What will be next?”
“I’ll have to think on it.” His grin widened as he urged the horses to a fast trot. “I wouldna want to overwhelm ye with all my talents.” That earned him an eye roll, and he nearly laughed out loud. He was beginning to think the gesture was Juliana’s way of not admitting that he was right.
But he sobered a few minutes later as he felt the first snowflake hit his face. He looked up at the now leaden sky. “We are going to have to hurry if we want to clear the pass before this storm unleashes its fury.”
Juliana took a deep breath and tightened her grip on the saddle with her free hand. “I’ll hang on.”
Luckily, Misty had a smooth rocking-chair gait, and Rory held the horses to a slow canter because the road was somewhat rutted. By the time they reached the pass, though, the snow was falling heavily, already building up along the sides of the road and narrowing the passage. He breathed a sigh of relief that they’d made it in time.
