dismissively. He hadnât put much groan to the words. It was clear he wanted time with his self-pity. And he didnât want her. Juliana knew she wasnât wanted. Aidan must be immune.
âIâll have a joint of meat carved and brought in for you two. Gregor is handling the cooking. âTwas a nice-sized boar you got, Arran. Nice-sized. Fit for bragging. Especially with the way you took it.â
âIâm ru-ru-ruined, and you wish t-t-to-to brag?â the lad asked.
âWhat? Iâll be crowing over how you took such an animal with only a skean and little warning. Thatâs what Iâm for bragging.â
The lad smiled a bit with the praise.
âAs to the other . . . the ruined part? I believe weâll just pass on that. Fair?â
The lad nodded after a moment. Juliana silently agreed. She didnât want to discuss anything of his injury. She didnât even know what to say over it.
âThen why-why-why did you bring her?â
âJuliana wanted a bit of companionship.â
âWhatâs wrong with yours?â his brother asked.
âPlenty.â
Juliana and Aidan said it in unison, and that surprise was added with the wide-eyed locked gaze that followed it. His left eyebrow was lifted again, and the man was too handsome for such an expression. She felt burned. Scorched. Sweat beads broke out near her hairline with the force of it. Then Arran coughed and Juliana looked away. There wasnât anything she could say. Looking at Arran was far safer, and her presence might be doing some good after all. The young man had moved into a full sit, propped against the bed roll, and had only the slightest grimace on his face as he finished.
âShe does-does naâ seem to-to-to fancy you much, Aidan,â he remarked.
âTrue.â
âWhy?â He was asking Juliana.
âIâm auld,â Aidan answered.
Arran looked skeptical. It was probably the match to Julianaâs expression. âYouâve ten years on me. Thatâs naâ auld.â
âTo a young lass, it is. Trust me. Iâll leave you two now and see whatâs taking Gregor so long.â
âWhat am I to-to do with her?â the lad asked.
Aidan was hiding a grin. Juliana didnât find anything amusing.
âTalk. Visit. Eat.â
Watch. Guard. Detain.
Her mind gave her the words as she stood mutely considering the entirety of Aidan MacKetryckâs trick. She couldnât believe sheâd been so witless and walked right into it. Juliana put every bit of ire she felt to the look she gave him. He smiled broader. And then he winked.
âYouâll call out for anything, Arran?â he asked.
âBut Aidan! Wh-Wh-What does a lass . . . t-t-talk of?â
Juliana spied a trunk, the match in size to the one sheâd bumped her nose into earlier, and walked over to it. She had it pulled into position next to Arranâs cot and was preparing to perch atop it before she spoke again. She ignored Aidan . . . completely and totally.
âIâm certain youâll find something. Lasses like flattery. You could try that.â
âA-A-Aidan.â The young man was embarrassed. It was in his voice and on his flushed face. Juliana glanced at him and then away. The emotion did nothing to hamper his comeliness. It probably increased it, if she was a young woman with nothing more on her mind than keeping an injured, handsome lad company for the day.
She settled onto the trunk, although it was too short and her knees were near her chest. âOh. Weâre going to have a very nice talk, Arran. For most of the day, while I wait for my clothing to finish drying . . . and you to tire,â Juliana informed him.
âAnd our dead to arrive. So we can bury them,â Aidan added.
Juliana gasped. His voice held more than just words. It held raw emotion. She did her best to pretend she hadnât heard it, although the trill of gooseflesh down