The Highlander's Warrior Bride (18 page)

This was her life.
She was Julianna, warrior, guard to the future King of Scotland.

But she wanted to be Julianna, wife of Ronan Sutherland.

She stole a glance at Ronan, shocked to see that he too was looking at her. He opened his mouth as if to speak and she tried not to lean forward in her eagerness to hear his voice. They’d not spoken since leaving the croft.

“What is it?” she asked, her patience losing out.

“Last night…” He trailed off and she worried the words she’d spoken earlier still stung him.

“Aye?” Julianna tried to make her voice soft, encouraging.

“I discovered something.”

That was an odd thing to say. She raised a brow in question, but her reaction didn’t seem to sit well with Ronan. He shifted in his seat, shook his head.

“’Tis not important. Ye promised ye’d tell me who your brother is when we returned to the castle. I’ll have his name now. Who are ye?”

Julianna gazed back over the horizon, watched the mist as it curled up and out of the water like greedy mystical
fingers. She breathed in the scents, cold, wintry, but soothing all the same. A promise was a promise. But she wasn’t sure that Ronan was truly ready to hear what she had to say.

“Julianna?”

She gazed back at him. Took in the determined set of his jaw.

“
Dinna make me wait longer, lass.”

Julianna sigh
ed deeply, gripped the reins of her horse tight. Brave’s skin trembled beneath her and he flicked his mane. She loosened her hold, and bit her lip, finding she needed something to clench, be it her hands or her teeth.

Julianna had never told a soul what she was about to tell Ronan. Robert knew
obviously, and her father. Her tutors as well, but they were long dead. On this earth she and two others were the only ones who truly knew who she was. Who her mother and father were, her siblings. The rest were kept in the dark. For Robert’s sake. For her own.

Ronan let out a huff, and flicked his horse’s reins, Saint taking four steps before Julianna had the nerve to open her mouth.

“Wait, dinna leave. I mean to tell ye.”

Ronan stopped his horse but didn’t turn around. “Lass, ye were the one who pointed out that we’d urgent news to relay, that we have a battle to prepare for.” His voice was filled with exasperation. “Now ye stall on a simple question. How hard can it be to simply say—”

“I am Julianna de Brus.”
The Bruce’s own sister
.

There, she’d done it. Julianna heaved a deep sigh, feeling lighter. But what weightlessness she felt soon dispelled. Ronan said nothing. His shoulders appeared stiffer, and he sat unmoving.

“Did ye hear me? I’m Jul—”

“I heard ye, my lady.” His voice was strained, like he had to force out each syllable.

Julianna felt like he’d punched her in the heart. Her chest hurt, and her eyes stung. He was angry. Why?

“Ye lied.”

Julianna blanched. “I dinna lie.”

Ronan whirled around atop his horse, his face contorted in anger. “I put my trust in ye. Laid ye on your back and had my way with ye.”

“’Twas not like that.”

“And ye think, Robert the Bruce is going to see it any other way? I slept with the king’s sister.”

“Half sister.”

Ronan’s hands flew up to the heavens. “Does it matter?”

She shook her head. It didn’t. To her and Robert it had never mattered. She was older by four years, and he’d always been her little brother, even if her mother was his father’s lover.

“Dammit, Julianna! Ye could have told me.”

“And what?” she asked, her lips curling into something very close to a sneer. “Ye wouldn’t have wanted me? Is my name so repulsive?”

Ronan shook his head, raked his hands through his hair.

“’Tis not that, my lady.”

“Stop calling me,
my lady
.”

“Ye once made sure I only called ye that.”

“We’re well past formalities, Ronan Sutherland.”

He nodded. “If I’d known ye were his flesh and blood, I’d not have made love to ye. Ye’re right. But ’tis not for lack of wanting. Nor desire. I
want
ye, Julianna. I crave ye. Feel lost when I dinna know where ye are. But he is the future king. He will want more for his sister than what I am.”

“Ye’re a fool. And ye dinna listen. Robert doesna want me to marry. I’m too important to him.”

Confusion and pain roared inside her head. She couldn’t face Ronan anymore. Found it easier to turn away. Suddenly, she was desperate for her bedchamber, for the solitude it would provide.

“Let us away. ’Tis nearly dark.” She didn’t look to see Ronan’s reaction. Didn’t wait for his answer. With a kick of her heels, Brave was heading fast down the road toward her brother, Robert the Bruce.

Chapter Eighteen

T
he lump sitting large in Ronan’s gut was painful. He couldn’t believe what Julianna had just told him. All these months he’d lived at Eilean Donan. Been the right-hand man to Wallace and the damned Bruce! No one bothered to tell him that Julianna was Robert’s sister, even if she was only his half-sister. Flesh and blood all the same!

Fury li
t a torch inside his veins. He felt duped, used. But most of all, he felt stupid. He should have seen it, shouldn’t he? Noticed their similarities. Were there any? He guessed they did have the same stubborn streak. Maybe the same color eyes? He couldn’t quite bring to mind the color of Robert’s eyes. Though he knew her eyes were a dark grey like storm clouds. Probably why his moods were so turbulent when he was around her.

Julianna rode ahead, her back stiff. She sat her horse regally. And she should, being the sister of the future king. Damn
, what a fool he’d been! He’d spread her thighs wide, tasted the fruit that graced between. And all the while she knew who she was. If her brother found out… There’d be no fight, no forced marriage, Ronan would be hung from the nearest rafter—after being drawn and quartered in full consciousness.

Taking a ragged breath, he pushed Saint into a gallop in order to catch up with Julianna. He might be angry at her, might feel that she betrayed him, but he was still responsible for her safety. Robert and Wallace both charged him with bringing her back. Less than forty-eight hours later he was indeed returning with her. Albeit, there were a few more secrets revealed and wagon-full of hypothetical baggage they were bringing back with them.

He had to believe that Julianna wouldn’t be telling Robert anything, and so, for today, he would give his report, meet with the men and prepare them for taking siege of Kinterloch. Then he’d eat his evening meal and retire to bed early. After they’d cleaned up the mess with Ross and the village, he would approach the Bruce and do the right thing. He would offer for Julianna’s hand. No matter what she said, or his own feelings—he’d made a vow that she was his. And, betrayal or not,
he
was not going to go back on his word. Even if she didn’t know about it.

Oddly for the time of day, there was no one on the road. The hair on the back of Ronan’s neck prickled. Something wasn’t right. Julianna, for once, seemed to be acting more on emotion than instinct.

He leaned low over Saint and whispered in his ear as he nudged him with his heels. The horse lowered his head and increased his speed. Ronan pulled his claymore from his back as he charged.

Julianna, probably hearing his increased paced, whirled in her saddle, eyes widening, mouth falling open. But Ronan’s instincts were not wrong. As soon as she’d taken her eyes off the road, a huge tree trunk was launched into her path.

“Julianna!” Ronan called.

She pulled her sword, whirled her horse around but not in time. Brave had begun to leap over the tree, and Julianna was tossed roughly to the ground. Brave made his jump, continued to run a few feet, but then dutifully stopped and waited for his mistress.

The tree hadn’t fallen by an act of nature. A group of about half a dozen vagabonds jumped into the road. An ambush.

Ronan only took a second to make sure they were not men of the Bruce’s camp before he took action.

“Go!” he shouted to Julianna. Thank God, for once she didn’t argue but scrambled out of the way.

Ronan was on the men half a second later. On foot, they were no match for him. One tried to spear his horse in the chest, but Saint always rode with a plate of armor in the sensitive spot that felled many horses. The man’s spear split in half, and Saint trampled over him. One down, f
ive to go. Ronan arched his sword, sliced through one on his right side, wielded the reins to the left and felled another. From his peripheral, he saw one had notched a bow, but a whizzing through the air caught the man in the throat—Julianna’s pin. Lil Lass leapt onto another man, knocking him to the ground where he remained unconscious.

The final
maggot, snarled, a dagger in one hand and a sword in the other.

“Why dinna ye get off that horse and fight me like a man?”

Ronan sneered and prepared to jump off the horse, when a knife hit the man in the chest. His eyes rolled back into his head and he dropped to his knees.

Well, that was no fun. He kind of wanted to fight the man.

Ronan glanced at Julianna and nodded his appreciation. Her lips were thin, brows furrowed. She nodded back. He jumped from his horse, checked the woods on the side of the road to make sure all was clear, then reached a hand down.

Julianna shook her head and attempted to stand, falling once, but shoving his help aside once more. “I can do it,” she said through gritted teeth.

“I know it, lass. I just wanted to help.”

“I dinna need ye.”

Her words stung. Ronan knew she didn’t need him. Hell, she didn’t need anyone, but it didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt any less.

She finally stood, rubbed her rear which probably hurt like the devil from her fall, then limped over to the fallen tree limb, which had to be a foot and a half thick. Lifting a leg over it, Julianna sank, straddling the trunk.

“What are ye doing, lass?” Concerned, Ronan hurried toward her.

“Leave me be. I hurt my arse is all.”

He tried not to laugh. “I’ll make sure ye get a warm bath when we arrive.”

“I can manage on my own.” She glared up at him. Looked away. Bit her lip. “I’m sorry,” she grumbled toward the ground. “I should have known something was wrong, but I was too tossed up in my mind. Your fault, by the way.”

Ronan reached out and touched her shoulder. He gave her a gentle squeeze, then gripped her chin, urging her to look at him. “Julianna, we are not each other’s enemy.”

“From the way ye looked at me when I told ye of Robert, ye sure showed the opposite.”

“I was surprised. Hurt.”

“It doesna matter. Let us be on our way.”

He nodded. Cook’s spiced whisky was calling his name. Julianna may be tough as steel, but she was still a woman. And if he learned anything from his sisters and his sisters-in-law, it was that women were likely to change moods quite often and there didn’t appear to be much he could do to change it, save accept it, and offer his support.

That didn’t appear to be at all what Julianna wanted from him.
As he watched her limp toward her horse, he realized with a start, that while he thought he knew her, felt a deep connection with her, what she’d revealed and what she still kept hidden made her appear to be much a stranger.

Though she limped, Julianna hooked her foot into the stirrup and swung up on the saddle with ease. She glanced back at him, studied him a moment longer than he would have suspected based on her dismissal.

“Are ye coming or not?” she asked haughtily.

Ronan nodded. “Aye, my lady.”

He leapt onto Saint’s back and hurried toward her, his mount taking the jump over the log with ease. They’d have to send men out to clear the road, else someone with a wagon would be blocked. The ride to the bridge was silent, but thick with tension. Ronan wanted to ask her so many questions, to pry her back open like he’d done at the croft. To return
that
Julianna to him. The one that was carefree, happy. This Julianna was serious, mysterious and a ripple of anger lay just beneath the surface of her steady façade. ’Twas in fact that ripple that kept his mouth shut.

“Ronan,” she said, breaking the silence, when the first clop of hooves sounded on the bridge.

He glanced up at the castle. Men stood upon the battlements, arrows notched and aimed, but when he waved, they retracted their weapons, called for the gate to be opened. Lil Lass ran ahead and through the gate, disappearing.

“Aye?”

“Not a word to Robert. We’ve enough to deal with.”

Since she’d brought it up, Ronan felt speaking on it was fair game. He glanced at her, gave her a serious expression and said, “Aye, lass, ye’ve got my word. But I will speak with ye on all matters when we’ve taken Ross down.”

She nodded, glanced away. He hated that she couldn’t look at him. Had he made such a bad impression on her? Ronan frowned. They drew closer to the gate, which was slowly being opened.

“I want ye to accept my apology,” she mumbled.

“For what?”

She sighed, like he was hauling unwanted words from her. “For keeping it from ye. I hope ye can understand that I did it for Robert’s safety. ’Tis my duty.”

Ronan nodded. He didn’t want to understand. But he could. There were secrets that families kept for their protection. Several his own family kept. He couldn’t begrudge her that. “I dinna blame ye, lass. ’Tis only…” He didn’t want to travel down the road that had gotten her riled up in the first place. She didn’t seem to understand his own feelings of betrayal, and maybe they were selfish because she’d only done what she thought was in the best interest of her brother and herself. “Never mind, ’tis not important.”

Julianna didn’t question him, though her astute eyes studied him shrewdly.

“I will report to the Bruce,” she said, her voice firm, shoulders squared.

“I have my own report.”

“Ye can report to Wallace.”

“All right.” He was in no mood to argue with her. In fact, his mood was going rather south.

They crossed under the gate, which was quickly closed behind them. As soon as they were through, stable hands came out to attend the horses, and servants took their satchels and weapons from the mounts, bringing them into the castle. Graham nodded to Ronan from a group he must have been training in the courtyard.

Wallace and Bruce approached with quick steps, the latter’s expression one of fury. Ronan could see now, looking at the set of Robert’s eyes and the glower he gave Julianna, that they were indeed related.

“To my study,” he ground out.

Julianna didn’t say a word, but lifted her chin, and swept passed all who’d come to greet them as she made her way into the keep.

“My lord,” Ronan called.

The Bruce stayed his steps and turned toward Ronan, Julianna did as well, an imperceptible shake of her head. Ronan jogged forward and whispered into his future king’s ear.

“The lass is well. Only meant to clean up the mess that is Ross. We’ve bigger problems. I will discuss them with Wallace, and I believe Julianna wishes to relay them to ye.”

Robert nodded, his face placid, then turned and followed Julianna inside.

Wallace came up beside him. “What was that about?”

“I fear he is verra angry at her.”

“Aye, and well he should be.”

Ronan nodded. “For certes, save she only thought to do her duty.”

Wallace glanced at him, a mirthful curve to his lips. “Ye like her.”

Ronan glared. “Mind your own business.”

“She is partly my business.”

“I’ll not discuss my personal feelings with ye, unless ye’ve decided to become a housekeeper and not the general.”

Wallace laughed. “Ye’ve a way with words. Come inside and give me your report. Ye’ve a visitor too.”

“Magnus?” Ronan’s older brother was laird of their clan, and he missed him fiercely.
It was hard to be away from his older brother for so many months, having previously seen him nearly every day of his life. Away from their home, but Ronan had to forge his own path, and when Wallace had invited him to help train the men, he’d seen a bright future ahead of himself.

“Nay. Your cousin Brandon Sinclair.”

Ronan smiled. He’d not seen his cousin in a while. “Has he come to join us?”

“Aye. Brought nigh
on two dozen warriors.”

Ronan nodded. Brandon was also a laird, known in the north for their stealth. Ronan wouldn’t have to train Brandon’s men, they were elite.

“Go clean yourself up, ye smell like shite, and when ye’re through, come to my chamber to give me your report. I’ll have Sinclair and Murray join us as well.”

Ronan nodded.
The bedchamber that had been given to him when he was injured was still made up and a fresh basin of water placed on the table. He made quick work of washing up, didn’t bother to shave as he wanted to get the report out of the way, the plans laid and a whisky in his hands. He donned a clean
leine
shirt and plaid, laced up his boots, put on his weapons and then went in search of Wallace’s chamber. The man’s room had to be the second largest in the castle as the Bruce’s was the biggest.