Page 25 of Highland Hero
The other man shrugged. “’Tis probably why they left early.”
Neal cursed aloud this time, his temper rising because MacGregor and the wench had given him the slip a second time. That it had almost been thethirdtime did nothing to quell his fury.
He and his men had arrived in Fort William late yesterday afternoon as the gloaming was descending. He’d gone directly to the garrison to request help from the dragoons to return his captured bride-to-be, only to learn that the commander had already received quite a different version from his lieutenant. Devious little bitch to come up with that. He’d enjoy bringing Juliana to heel even more once he caught up to her.
And they’d have gone on a completely useless trip to Grant Castle as well if he and his men hadn’t decided to have a hot meal at the coaching inn in Fort William first. It was there that he’d overheard a female from the mail coach that had just arrived talking with a companion about a woman with beautiful red hair at the inn at Spean. That comment had alerted him like a hound scenting a fox. Instead of questioning her—which would have been highly irregular, since he was a stranger—he went off to find the driver instead.
That’s when he found out from the mail carrier that the red-haired woman had inquired about the distance to Invergarry and that she’d given him a letter to deliver to Strae Castle. After buying the man several drams of whisky—and bribing him with two silver crowns—he was able to get a look at the letter. She’d written of their plans to go north first and then southeasterly to Blair Castle and take a circuitous route home. He’d given the letter back to the carrier to deliver since he didn’t need more MacGregors searching for her.
By that time it had been near midnight, and he and his men decided to get a few hours’ sleep, since he knew his prey was only ten miles away. They’d risen early and ridden out shortly after breaking their fast this morning.
He uttered another curse. What kind of woman got up before dawn? Juliana Caldwell seemed to defy him at every turn, and he did not like being bested by anyone. Especially a woman.
“What are we going to do?” his man asked.
Neal looked up at the leaden sky. “We ride for Invergarry.”
The man’s eyes widened. “In this weather? We’re like to have a blizzard.”
Neal gave him an annoyed look. He didn’t like to be questioned. “’Tis better to catch MacGregor on the open road rather than let him get to the castle.”
And if they were lucky, MacGregor’s frozen body wouldn’t be found for weeks…long after he’d made Juliana Caldwell his woman.
Chapter Eight
Juliana glanced over at Rory as they rode north in the dim predawn light. As exhausted as she’d been from two eternal days in the saddle and only a few hours’ sleep on hard ground, she had not heard him return to the room last night. The hot water of her bath had soothed aching muscles, and she’d nearly fallen asleep in the copper tub. She vaguely remembered pulling the night rail she’d purchased over her head and had no recollection of her head even touching the pillow.
She wasn’t even sure if Roryhadreturned to the room. When he’d shaken her awake an hour ago, he’d been fully dressed. Had he spent the night elsewhere? He’d said there were no more rooms to let, but she’d seen the way one of the serving maids in the public room had eyed him while they’d eaten last evening. Juliana frowned. The girl had been a pretty young thing with flaxen hair and a generous bosom that spilled over the neckline of her bodice. Surely he’d noticed. Had she offered to share the comfort of her bed while Juliana had denied him theirs? She grimaced. The bed hadn’t been “theirs.” She’d offered to sleep on the floor, but he’d refused. If Rory MacGregor wanted to sleep in a warm bed—with someone—that was his business.
“I ken ’tis cold.”
“I am fine.” He’d obviously mistaken her gloomy countenance for dislike of the weather, which was probably better than him knowing what her real thoughts had been. “Will we ride all the way to Invergarry today?”
“Aye. ’Tis nae villages between here and there.”
She didn’t have to ask how far it was, because she knew. By her own calculations and given that the terrain was getting rockier, it meant another full day of riding. She groaned silently. Or perhaps not so silently, because Rory gave her a contemplative look.
“Are ye that sore, lass?”
Yes, she wanted to scream. Every ache and pain had returned this morning, magnified, it seemed, to punish her for enjoying a soft bed last night. Her thighs were rubbed raw, her back hurt, her shoulder muscles bunched tightly, and even her fingers felt numb from holding on to the saddle while they climbed up and slid down winding trails. But Rory was riding with the relaxed posture of one long accustomed to the saddle. She wasn’t about to let him think she was a fragile flower, or worse, a ninnyhammer who expected coddling. She gritted her teeth.
“I am fine.” She pulled her cloak closer with her free hand, then grabbed for the saddle again, causing the cloak to flap as Misty stumbled on a rock.
“Ye are cold,” Rory said as if he hadn’t heard her.
“I…I will be all right…” She hoped her chattering teeth couldn’t be heard over the horse’s hooves. “…once the sun comes up.”
Rory looked up at the still near-dark sky. “I hate to tell ye, but I doona think we’ll be seeing the sun today.” He raised his head and sniffed the air. “It smells like snow.”
She looked at him, wondering if the cold had affected his brain and he didn’t know it. “Snow smells?”
“Aye.” He nodded as though it were perfectly clear. “’Tis a certain crispness to the air. A bit like the clean smell of earth after a rain, ye ken?” He lifted a shoulder in a half shrug when she stared at him. “The cold feels different, not quite so biting, before the snow falls.”
As she was thinking how to respond to that—or perhaps it was best not to, since she had no idea what he meant—the first flakes landed on her cheeks. An odd chill that had nothing to do with cold ran down her spine as she looked up to see more flakes floating down. “How did you…” She let her voice fade away since he was grinning at her.
“I told ye I could smell it, especially since it was so close.” He glanced up at the sky and then sobered. “But I fear we may be in for a storm.”
She eyed him. “You can smell that, too?”
