The Rogue

by Allison Butler

  ‘Netti?’ Rory wheezed his wife’s name.

  ‘Netti is safe and well, thanks to you, Rory.’ Even in the old man’s confusion, he’d saved Netti from the flames.

  ‘Won this time.’ Rory spoke the triumphant words, then suddenly released a guttural groan. One of his hands shot up to claw at his chest.

  ‘Rory?’ Adair shifted closer and caught Rory as he fell backward into his arms. Cradling the older man in his lap, Adair stared down into his burned and blistered face. ‘Rory?’ Fear rang out as he repeated the name. Singed lashes flickered and pain-filled grey eyes squinted up at him. ‘Almighty God, Rory. I thought—’

  ‘Adair? Adair … is that ye … lad?’ The sound of his name spoken between each hard-won breath tore a hole in Dair’s heart.

  ‘Aye, Rory. I’m here.’ He did his best to sound strong, but his voice cracked on the last word.

  ‘Glad … I am.’ Rory grunted and squeezed his chest with his hand. ‘I ken yer nae my son,’ his dry lips drew back over his clenched teeth. ‘But had my lad lived … had I saved him … I’d hope … he’d be a man like ye.’

  Tears filled Dair’s eyes, blurring the sight of the man he held in his arms. He squeezed his eyes shut and the sounds of the greedy flames roared in his ears. When he opened them again, he peered down at the man he admired and cared for. ‘Hold on, Rory. Keila’s coming.’

  ‘My chest … pains me, lad,’ he panted and his body stiffened. The blackened fingers of his free hand sought Adair’s and clung for life. ‘Look after … my Netti?’ He clutched at his chest as a groan of agony escaped his mouth.

  ‘Aye, Rory. I’ll care for Netti.’ The grey eyes seemed to darken and dim. ‘Hold on, Rory.’ He glanced up to see the horses and cart approaching. ‘Keila’s here. She’ll know what to do. She’ll help you.’

  Rory’s reed-like body grew heavier in Dair’s arms.

  ‘Stay with me, Rory,’ he pleaded. He barely registered Netti’s anguished sob. ‘Rory.’ One final breath escaped Rory’s pale lips and Adair stared down into Rory’s lifeless eyes. ‘Rory?’

  Urgent footsteps approached moments before Keila fell to her knees beside him, her satchel of herbals flattening the grass beside her. Adair saw the glint of hope in her emerald eyes, snuffed out in an instant with the helpless shake of his head.

  The agony that claimed her beautiful face doubled his own. His need to shield her from hurt and loss and danger lay in tatters as tears filled her eyes and a single drop spilled over.

  ‘I’ll see to Netti,’ she said softly, as a tear splashed her other cheek.

  Adair’s admiration for Keila soared higher. She’d just lost a man who was like a father to her, yet she was ready to care for and help others. She turned and dragged her satchel an arm’s length away to where Moira, pale and motionless, knelt behind Netti, supporting her, tears silently streaming down her face. Netti’s eyes were fixed open wide as she stared across the small distance to where he sat holding Rory, a tide of tears spilling over her lashes.

  He turned away and looked to where the cottage was fully ablaze. Netti had just lost her husband and her home. His chest tightened. He would give anything to have saved these people from such devastating harm and sorrow. These people he’d come to care about so deeply in such a short time. Hungry flames leapt high in the air, sending dark plumes of smoke up high to mar the blue of the summer sky. Blistering heat reached out for him. Dair looked down at Rory’s sightless gaze peering up, seeing nothing. He swallowed, and lifting one hand, he carefully closed Rory’s eyes.

  If only he’d ridden faster. If he’d stopped in to see Rory first on his way back from Lochindorb, instead of riding straight to Drummin House, he might have prevented the fire. He might have saved Rory. His heart twisted in his chest. But he hadn’t. He’d failed.

  Disappointment bit deep, but ifs and onlys and mights wouldn’t bring Rory back to life. He needed to concentrate on laying Rory to rest and fulfilling his promise to take care of Netti. He’d then find out how the fire had started and fleetingly wondered if this blaze was somehow connected to the others.

  Adair climbed to his feet and carried Rory’s body to the cart, gently placing him on the timbered boards and covering him with a length of linen. He needed to find out where Netti wanted Rory buried, but her loss would be too great for her to think clearly. He’d ask her tomorrow.

  He walked back to where Keila was just tying her satchel closed. ‘How is she?’

  His question was for Keila but it was Netti who answered. ‘I have nae injuries.’ Her soft voice caught. ‘Rory saw to that.’ Dark lashes lowered to hide her eyes, but the tear trails marking her cheeks were easily seen and her frail body shook with grief. He hadn’t yet had a good look at Rory’s Netti, but the brief glimpses he had made him believe she’d once been a beauty.

  ‘I found nae wounds,’ Keila confirmed. ‘We’d like you to come and stay with us at Drummin House,’ Keila said quietly.

  Netti glanced up at Keila, but only to say, ‘My thanks,’ before hiding her eyes once more.

  ‘I’ll carry you to the cart.’ Dair bent and carefully scooped Netti into his arms for the second time. She weighed less than a small cask full of ale and smelled of smoke and a familiar scent he could not name. He could feel the feeble lengths of her crippled legs through the damp linen cloth still wrapped about her from the waist down to her toes. She turned her face into his chest and wept silent tears into his shirt.

  Adair clenched his jaw against the urge to cry with her. He tightened his hold about her for a moment, letting her know he was sorry for her loss, hoping to console her and let her know he felt it too. He walked to the opposite side to where he’d placed Rory’s body and watched as Keila scrambled up and sat at the top end, closest to the bench seat.

  ‘Moira will drive the cart and I’ll sit with Netti,’ Keila said and opened her arms.

  Adair assisted a quiet, moist-eyed Moira onto the bench seat. She met his gaze briefly and squeezed his hand before she released him and turned to gather the reins. Adair wasn’t surprised to learn the dragon did have a heart. He mounted Demon, and with a last look back at the fire that had almost consumed the entire cottage, Dair led them back to Drummin House, the ride so much quicker than his never-ending journey there.

  Chapter 20

  Once Adair settled Netti in the healing room, she and Keila quietly spoke about Rory’s final resting place. They agreed on the shaded area beneath the trees, at the bend in the River Livet. He left Keila to attend to Netti and returned to the stable to help Moira prepare Rory’s body for burial.

  ‘What can I do to help, Moira?’ His quiet words mingled with the sound of trickling water as she squeezed excess moisture out of the cloth.

  Moira’s determined amber gaze fixed on him over Rory’s body. ‘I have all I need and can see to Rory’s care.’ Adair heard her swallow. ‘Please.’ The pleading in the final word shot straight to his heart.

  ‘Of course.’ This was something she needed to do. Despite having heard Moira berate Rory for his teasing, there had never been malice in her tone and Adair believed Moira’s fondness for the old man ran deeper than she showed. ‘Let me know if I can help you in any way.’ Moira nodded and returned to her task. Adair retrieved the shovel from the cluster of implements in one corner and left the stable.

  The sun had only reached its peak by the time Adair had finished digging the hole for Rory. How could so much hurt happen in only half a day? He’d removed his shirt in the heat and now waded into the river to wash the dirt from his skin and to feel something, anything.

  The flowing water was cold and reminded him he was alive. Hearing Rory say if his son had survived he would want him to be like Adair filled his heart with pride and gratitude. Not knowing who his family were had always fed Adair’s self-doubt about his worth. But now, having met his sire, a man of power and consequence, if he had the choice, he would have chosen Rory as his father.

  Family and blood were so much more th
an a name. Rory had been a man who cared for and protected those he knew and loved. Alexander Stewart, the Earl of Badenoch cared for and protected no one but himself. Adair doubted the man knew how to love, but was certain he would use anyone, including his own kin, to gain whatever he desired. He stilled and wondered if now that he’d found his father, would he ever find his mother? Not likely and not now.

  Adair wiped the water from his face and gathered an armful of rocks left smooth by the fast-running water on the riverbed. He vowed to never let the earl gain anything through him. Even if he had to leave the woman he loved behind. He’d spoken the words and told Keila he loved her. But her horrified gaze had been fixed on the fire and he wasn’t certain she’d heard what he’d said.

  He understood her reasons for remaining here, unwed in Drummin House. And now she’d lost a friend, a man dear to her heart, he wouldn’t burden her further by telling her again that he loved her. Not when she’d made her own feelings clear by asking him to leave.

  He climbed from the river and placed the rocks beside the gaping hole that resembled the hollow emptiness deep inside his chest at the thought of returning to the Borders without Keila. But he refused to put his feelings and wants first and act the way his greedy father would. Instead he’d do what was best for Keila and be the worthy man Rory believed him to be.

  ***

  They returned Rory to the earth as the sun slid low in the west. A gentle breeze carried the smell of burnt offerings to where they stood beneath the small cluster of Scots pines, the scent of smoke reminding them of Rory’s selfless efforts to save Netti from the blaze. But none, despite the flow of tears that would have rivalled the Livet, could understand why he’d been taken too soon or how the fire had started.

  As Adair carried Netti back to the house, he decided he’d return to Rory’s cottage and discover what might have caused the fire. He left Keila and Moira in the kitchen to continue consoling each other and to prepare a meal, for none of them had eaten this day. But as he gently set Netti down on the pallet where Keila had tended his injuries, for what now seemed a lifetime ago, she lay her cold fingers on his arm.

  He crouched beside her and was once again taken aback by a familiar scent he still couldn’t place. He looked at her small pale hand on his tanned forearm, and then at her face and found her warm gaze wandering over his.

  ‘Yer name is Adair?’ Spent tears roughened her voice.

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘And yer from the Borders?’

  ‘Aye.’ He nodded.

  Her gaze travelled about his face once more before she met his. ‘I thank ye for helping Rory and for helping me.’

  He could only imagine the depth of her sorrow. ‘I’m sorry for your loss, Netti.’ He glanced away but looked back, needing to say more. ‘Your husband was a fine man.’

  Her fingers shifted on his arm, tightening her grip. ‘Thank ye for yer kind words, Adair, but Rory was nae my husband.’ New tears filled her sorrowful blue eyes.

  ‘It doesn’t matter, Netti,’ Adair said covering her hand with his. ‘Rory loved you—’

  ‘Ye don’t understand,’ she said in a fierce whisper. ‘My name is Janet and I … I am yer mother.’

  A rushing sound filled Adair’s ears, deafening him to all else but the thudding echo of his heartbeat. The dizziness he’d suffered soon after his beating returned now, tenfold. He dropped from his crouching position onto his knees and watched silent teardrops pool and spill over the lashes of the woman claiming to be his mother. The woman named Janet’s blue eyes stared at him. Waiting. She was waiting for him to say something. What could he say to the mother he’d longed for, the mother who’d abandoned him? He said nothing. Instead, he lifted his hands, cupped her fine-boned face, pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and squeezed his eyes shut.

  For the longest time he’d imagined his mother coming back for him, imagined her picking him up and holding him tight and saying she’d lost him and how frightened she’d been. He’d clung to her then, his small arms circling her neck and holding on so tight she’d never let him go again. But such imaginings were for small boys; and as the years passed any hope of his smiling, dark-haired mother returning for him faded, and as he’d focused on the Elliots, his new family, the imaginings eventually stopped.

  Adair opened his eyes and lowered his hands from her face to hold hers. He looked into the eyes watching him, eyes that weren’t as blue as the ones he remembered. This woman’s face was pale and drawn and deep lines scored her cheeks and the place between her brows. Grey strands dominated the once dark hair that flowed past her thin shoulders. The hands he held were dry and cracked, work-worn, and the lower half of her body, hidden beneath the same woollen blanket that had once covered him, appeared too frail for the rest of her. Then he remembered. This woman couldn’t walk. This woman was a cripple.

  An unseen blade slashed his thudding heart. His gaze shot back up, but something in the depths of hers changed, something hardened.

  ‘Don’t ye pity me!’ She lifted her delicate chin. ‘’Tis my punishment. ’Tis what I deserved for—’ Her voice broke as she slid one hand free of his hold to clutch his hand and dipped her head to hide her tears.

  Adair watched her fighting to stay fierce and something inside him shifted. He gently squeezed the fingers he still held and settled on the edge of the pallet. ‘Tell me what happened?’

  She brushed the moisture from her cheeks and drew several long, deep breaths before she finally looked at him, her gaze again wandering over his face.

  ‘I will start at the beginning so ye understand what a foolish lass I was.’ Her chin angled higher and she swallowed once. ‘I was born the fourth daughter of seven children and my parents were able to arrange a position for me as a kitchen maid at nearby Lochindorb Castle. I was fourteen and for two years I worked like a slave. Not long after I turned sixteen, I somehow caught the eye of the earl, Alexander Stewart.’

  Adair fought to keep the tension from his body. He knew the rest of the story without his mother saying another word, but the tale was hers and he needed to hear her tell it.

  ‘Despite hearing of many others falling for his attentions only to be discarded soon after, I lay with him, foolishly thinking my life was going to be grand.’ She slowly shook her head. ‘He tired of me after the fifth time, but I was already with child.’ Her fingers tightened around his.

  ‘My family were disgraced and turned me out.’ Her lips flattened as she ducked her head for a moment. ‘When my condition was discovered, I was nae longer permitted to work at the castle. I had nae where to go and nae one, except …’ She lifted her chin.

  ‘Mariota de Athyn was his favoured mistress and had already given Alexander numerous sons and a daughter. She took me in and found a place for me to stay in a small shack on the mainland close by Lochindorb Castle.’ She looked into his eyes. ‘I was alone and thought my life was over. And then ye were born and everything I believed I knew, everything I thought mattered, changed. Ye were my everything.’ Her fingers moved and closed tight about his arm. Adair settled his hand over hers and gently squeezed.

  ‘Ye grew so fast and grew so strong. I struggled to catch ye. I …’ The smile lighting her eyes and making her look younger suddenly disappeared. Adair heard her swallow. ‘The earl, yer father, had never seen ye. I didn’t ken if he knew about ye. But one day when Mariota came to visit, she brought him with her. Ye’d nae long turned four.’ She peered down at their joined hands. ‘He saw ye, asked yer name and lifted ye up for a closer look. I told him I’d named ye Adair and when he set ye back down, he looked at me for a long time, up and down, slow like, and said I should call on him at the castle.’

  She shook her head and visibly shuddered. ‘I didn’t want to go to him. I didn’t want to step inside that castle again. He only wanted me back to lie with him. I worried all the night through, and the next day Mariota returned and we went for our usual walk down to the loch. But she wasn’t the same woman I’d come to know. She
was terse and angry and all her attention was on ye while ye ran about near the water. I asked her what was wrong, but she brushed my hand aside.’ She clenched Adair’s arm, frowned and looked back up. ‘Then she said in a low, mean voice that I should have a care ye didn’t have an accident and hurt yerself, or worse. The awful look in her eyes when she said it frightened me.

  ‘I don’t know why she said such things, but I knew the earl played his mistresses off against one another to gain more favours. I thought I’d known fear before that day, but I hadn’t. My need to get ye far away, to keep ye safe was the only thing I cared about, the only thing that mattered.’ She straightened. ‘I stole a horse from the shelter by the jetty the following day. I’d packed enough food for us to last a sennight and hoped I could get ye far enough away from Lochindorb in that time.

  ‘Ye sat before me and thought it was a grand adventure. The weather was cooling but it was still warm enough to sleep beneath a tree or a rock shelter under the stars. We avoided the towns and travelled hard and continued on each day until the sun was ready to set. I begged for food over the last few days and people were kind enough to give us what they could.’

  She stared into the distance. ‘I didn’t know where we were going, but something told me I’d know when we arrived.’ She dipped her head. ‘Part of me didn’t want to get to wherever it was, for it meant …’ Adair heard her breathe in a long breath and was watching her closely when she looked back up at him. ‘And then we heard it. The sound of children playing and laughing. It was one of the most beautiful sounds I’d ever heard. We dismounted and watched a group of lads practising with their wooden swords. So fierce yet so small.’ Adair saw her smile at the memory he remembered too.

  ‘Ye were fascinated and wore a grin so wide while ye looked on.’ Tears welled in her eyes despite the smile she wore. ‘But it was growing late and I needed to decide what I was going to do, and quickly. One half of my heart beat with joy at knowing ye’d be safe here with these lads, while the other side bled at the thought of leaving ye.’ Her breath caught. ‘But I had to let ye go. I couldn’t bear for something to happen to ye because of Mariota’s jealousy, and as much as I wanted to protect ye, I didn’t know for certain that I could.