Cassian (The Immortal Highland Centurions #2) - Jayne Castel Page 0,62
flirting with other women in her presence. And all the while, Gavina had put up a stoic front.
But the Lady of Dunnottar was done pretending none of that had hurt her.
Jean glared back at Lady Gavina for a long moment. But then her face crumpled. It was an awful thing to see, to watch a woman’s heart break. For a few instants, Aila forgot to breathe. Suddenly, her own unhappiness, her own disappointment, paled to insignificance.
Jean’s grief enveloped them all.
“I loved him.” The words ripped out from Jean in a high, keening wail, and then she buried her head in her hands and began to weep in deep, rending sobs that echoed through the clearing.
Instinctively, Aila moved across to Jean and put a gentle arm around her shoulders. But the lass didn’t notice. She was too lost in misery.
Aila glanced then back at Lady Gavina. She’d expected to see her mistress still angry, her eyes full of self-righteous rage, but the look upon her face made Aila still.
Her heart-shaped face had drained of color, and her mouth trembled. She watched Jean weep, her eyes glittering—not from rage this time, but from sadness.
Supper was a tense, somber meal.
The party ate in silence. Jean refused to touch the pieces of roast grouse that Cassian handed her, so he laid them on a piece of moss next to her. The girl would likely want some later.
The grouse was tough and very gamey, but nobody complained.
Across the fire, Aila ate hungrily. Cassian did his best to keep his gaze off her, yet when she licked the grease off her fingers, he couldn’t help but stare.
His belly clenched.
What was it? Lust? Loneliness? Regret? Perhaps a blend of all three.
Wariness settled over Cassian then. Aila De Keith, with her sweet face and guileless eyes, had done something to him, had woven an enchantment around him.
He’d once dismissed her as a bashful lass. But that had all changed once they left Dunnottar. And their escape from Stirling had shown that she was courageous. Her soft speech and gentle manners hid a core of iron.
He’d underestimated her.
Aila’s attention cut to him then, and she caught him watching her.
Face rigid, she stared back. And as the moment drew out, he saw anger shadow those smoke-grey eyes, turning them hard and flinty.
She hated him now—and rightly so.
Cassian broke eye contact. Leaning forward, he fed some sticks onto the fire.
It’s better this way, better she thinks I’m a heartless rogue, he reminded himself. Anger is easier to deal with than sorrow.
Cassian’s mouth compressed. Who was he trying to fool?
He’d seen her reaction that morning in the alcove, had watched her happiness splinter into a thousand pieces by his hand.
Her rage was a shield, as was his indifference.
The party finished their supper of grouse in silence and waited while the shadows lengthened further and dusk settled over the woodland.
Finally, Cassian rose to his feet, kicked dirt over the embers of the fire, and swept his gaze over the faces of his companions.
All four women were tense, their expressions guarded. This would be a subdued journey.
“We’ll set off now,” he informed them, his voice splintering the silence. “Sound travels at night so keep your voices low—if you need to say anything at all.” Looking at their pale faces, Cassian knew he didn’t have to worry about that last warning. None of them looked in the mood to chatter amongst themselves.
They left the birch-lined glade and headed through the press of trees. Cassian had deliberately taken them cross-country, away from open land, any villages, and the roads that wound their way through the wooded hills and valleys that spread north of Stirling.
The good weather continued, and as the last of the daylight faded and the stars came out to play, Cassian was able to use them to check their position.
While he’d been out scouting, he’d discovered they were a little farther west than he’d thought, and so he angled a path north-east through the trees. The Highlands rose up to the west, and he didn’t want to take them in that direction. Dunnottar lay on the eastern coast.
The Broom-star was clearly visible in the night sky, and the sight of it brought Cassian solace.
It may not be long now.
Despite everything, they were still the closest they’d ever been to breaking the curse.
The events of the last day had pushed all thoughts of the riddle from his mind—something that rarely occurred. But seeing the bright star with its fiery tail brought everything back.