Allie took a deep breath of air that was surprisingly still warm. The only sources of light were the torches in the towers they stood between and the stars and moon above.
“’Tis nearly full,” she said of the waxing moon.
Gillian nodded. “It seems the council will be held during a new moon.”
The moon had always fascinated Allie. Though she did not agree that the moon’s shape at birth predicted one’s character, she did wonder at its purpose and what it was made of.
“I met him once before, you know,” Gillian said.
“Where?” She could not disguise the interest in her tone.
“At The Wild Boar, on our way back from our first visit to Lyndwood as a married couple.”
Allie remembered the visit well. The awful man she’d agreed to marry, the one who’d gotten himself killed before they could wed, had intended to marry Gillian. He’d settled for Allie after Gillian was forced to marry Graeme. Rather than tell Gillian the truth—that she would go through with the wedding so their parents would not lose their home—she’d insisted she had a foolproof plan to avoid the match. She still felt poorly for lying to the person who cared for her most, who looked after her the way their mother should have, but if she’d allowed Gillian to spirit her away as her sister had intended, it would have caused problems for the new couple.
“I still feel poorly for lying to you,” Allie began, but Gillian cut her off, shaking her head.
“You do not need to apologize. Again. I understand you were only trying to protect me. As I am doing for you now.”
Allie shivered. She hated to think of what would have happened had the earl not—
“I met Reid,” Gillian continued. “And took an immediate dislike to him. He is arrogant—”
“Aye, very.”
“And disdainful.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
“In fact, I asked Graeme why he would have such a man as an ally.”
Allie had wondered the very same thing. “What did he say?”
“That he had known Reid and his older brothers his entire life. It was their sister, Catrina, to whom he was promised.”
Allie’s eyes widened. “That Catrina?”
“Aye.”
Graeme had once been betrothed to a childhood friend. Allie did not know much of the story beyond that they had, of course, never married.
“He claimed Reid is, beneath it all, a good man.” Gillian did not look convinced, and neither was she.
“His brother is the chief?”
“Aye. The middle brother, Alex, was once the chief’s second, but he and his wife took up residence at Dunmure Tower, where the boys were raised.”
“How do you know so much about him?” Allie stepped closer to the wall and laid a hand on the cool, gray stone.
“From Sara. She told me about the family, and Catrina, when Graeme and I . . .” Her sister paused.
Allie did not mean to laugh. But she so loved to tease her sister about the circumstances surrounding her first encounter with Graeme. “Encountered each other in the garden?”
Gillian smiled, taking the jest as easily as she did each time. “Aye.”
“Well,” Allie said. “You’ve no cause for concern. He’s merely curious. I met him earlier, in the courtyard, and was taken aback by his . . .” There were so many things she could say. Allie settled for, “Arrogance.”
“Very well.” Gillian looked back toward the hall. “I really should go—”
“Attend to your guests. I believe I shall retire early.”
Gillian looked like she wished to say more, but having made her argument against Reid, one Allie took seriously, she simply smiled and bid her a good night.
Allie turned back toward the moon, staring at it once again. It fascinated her that her parents saw the very same moon when they looked up into the sky. Was her father easier to tolerate now that he no longer worried about their home being taken? More importantly, how much longer could she pacify him and his attempts to see her “safely wed”?
“Good evening, Lady Allie.”
Thank goodness the wall in front of her was higher than her waist. Otherwise, she may have toppled over it, so startled was she at the deep, unwanted voice.
* * *
“I never told you my name.” She turned slowly, addressing the man who’d so offended her sister at The Wild Boar.
“I know many things about you now that I did not know when we first met.”
The dark blue of her surcoat blended with the night sky, making the long, pale slope of her neck and elegant hands even more pronounced. He could hardly see much of her upon his initial approach. Now that she’d turned fully toward him, Reid could see the lady quite well.
He waited, and she did not disappoint him.
“Such as?”
It was simply too easy.
“You live here with your sister and her husband, though some believe the stay is temporary. Apparently Lord Lyndwood believes his youngest daughter is well past marriageable age. You’ve seen a few more than twenty summers?”
She didn’t answer.
“I believe you have.”
“I believe it is time for you to leave.”
Reid frowned. “Have I offended you in some way, my lady?”
Though he clearly had, she did not move to abandon him.
Yet.
“Why are you up here?”
He took a step toward her, the smell of rose petals wafting toward him as he moved. “The same reason you are, I suspect.”
Well aware that he was walking a fine line, Reid stopped his approach and abruptly turned his back to the wall and leaned against it.
“I was speaking privately with my sister.”
“About me?”
The look on her face said it all. She wanted to rail against him, push him out of the way and leave. Surprisingly, she did not. Yet her expression hardly changed.
“Do you always believe you are the subject of conversation?” Her hands gestured in the air as she spoke. She may have been raised a proper English noblewoman, but she had a bit of spirit in her.
“No,” he said. “Though I could not help but notice your attention during the meal—or that your sister gave me some very unwelcoming glances.”
She lifted her chin. “You met her once before.”
“Aye,” he said. “Unaccountably, I don’t believe she likes me much.”
She smiled, and even though her lips had a mocking tilt, his hardened heart began to beat wildly.
“Finally, an astute observation.”
Reid crossed his arms. “I fear I am at a loss to explain her lack of warmth toward me.”
Again, that smile.
“Much as I am at a loss to explain how her husband believes you redeemable.”
He’d not have used that word, but Reid was surprised nonetheless. He would have imagined Graeme de Sowlis saw him much the same as most did . . . as Toren and Alex’s younger brother, and nothing more.
He pushed away from the wall so abruptly, Allie looked as if she would back away. But she did not. Reid took a step, and then another, toward her. The air between them sizzled, and Reid knew he was entering dangerous territory.
Caution, unfortunately, had never been one of his favored traits.
“I fear we should start over.” Reid was sure she would pull her hand away when he reached out to grab it, but again she surprised him. Her fingers, cool from the air yet smooth and soft, lay still in his own. He brought them to his lips and instantly cursed himself. His cock was rock-hard by the time he pressed his lips to her hand. The reaction he’d hoped to elicit was from her, not him.
With effort, he dropped her hand.
“I am Reid Kerr, brother to the chief of Clan Kerr, and honored to make your acquaintance.”
“You are?” She clearly did not trust him to behave.
Smart woman.
When she opened her full lips to speak again, Reid hoped she would challenge him
. Curse him. Tell him to leave and never speak to her again. Anything but that, and he would be undone. He’d not expected himself to react this strongly to her.
And he didn’t like it. He would much rather be in control.
“My name is Lady Allie, daughter of John Bowman, Lord Lyndwood, and sister to the lady of Highgate End.”
He smiled. That was better.
“Regretfully, however, I am not honored to make your acquaintance.”
With that, she left.
Leaving Reid to laugh with none but the guards in the distance to hear the sound.
5
Reid allowed the raised voices around him to meld into one tedious drone. Although the official council would not be held for two more days, after the Lord Warden arrived, those already in attendance sat in their hosts’ solar doing what clan chiefs do best.
Arguing.
Though each of them was in attendance for the same purpose, to secure continued peace along the border, opinions on how to achieve such a goal varied widely. They only agreed on one point: the current climate could not continue. The recent increase in the number and severity of attacks along the border worried leaders on both sides of the divide. At least, those who were not using the instability to bribe their way to greater financial gain.
Until Douglas arrived, none of their talk mattered.
“Does Clan Kerr agree?”
Ferguson MacDuff asked, pulling Reid’s attention back to the debate.
“Do you care if we do or do not?” he asked.
While his brothers would chastise him for poking an already angry chieftain, Reid simply could not resist. MacDuff and de Sowlis were allies, but he would never forget the former’s reluctant response to Toren’s call for help after Catrina was taken by the English.
MacDuff’s face turned an even brighter shade, much like his red hair. “You insult me to ask such a question.”
The seven other men in the room watched their exchange closely.
“If an insult was given, none was intended,” he said, keeping his voice as cool as MacDuff’s was hot.
MacDuff’s eyes narrowed. “You wonder why the elders hesitate to name you as your brother’s second.”
Reid could see Graeme was about to intervene, but he couldn’t let him do it. He needed to be sure MacDuff, and the others in attendance, were all clear on that particular topic.
“I could never replace Alex,” he said of his brother. No truer words had ever been spoken, at least not by him. And he knew better than anyone that the truth was oft more uncomfortable than any lie.
It worked.
MacDuff snapped his mouth closed. His argument had been stolen from him, and he hesitated to so openly agree with the man he was chastising.
“To answer your question,” he continued, “Clan Kerr is in full agreement. The appointment of Lord Caxton as the English warden will certainly not ease tensions.”
“Caxton,” another clan chief spat. “There is not a man alive who hates us more. And so unlike Hallington.”
Juliette’s father may have sheltered his daughter, a common enough occurrence along the border, but his failing health was felt by all when he was forced to remove himself as warden. Fair and well-respected, with the exception of a misunderstanding that had put his brother Toren in an awkward position when he first met his future wife, Hallington’s replacement was a very different sort of man.
“Aye,” Graeme said. “I fear the repercussions are already being felt. But will Douglas be willing to act?”
An uncomfortable silence met the question. None knew how their Lord Warden, a fair and honorable man, would react to the Englishman’s appointment. The Treaty of York, formed more than thirty years earlier, dictated their current state of affairs. It had established a border between Scotland and their southern neighbors and instituted the monthly Day of Truce. It was all that stood between them and abject, uncontrolled violence.
Someone accused the English of inventing titles to preserve their self-importance—as if they did not do the same—and Reid stopped listening again. Their ranting would go on for hours. Toren often complained about such gatherings, and Reid could see why. He allowed his thoughts to drift to a certain brown-haired Englishwoman who had captured not only his attention but his dreams.
Reid had awoken that morn primed and ready, and it had only taken a moment for him to remember why. Lady Allie. Last eve she was a very different woman than the one he’d first met outside the tower. Why had she dressed in boys’ clothing? And where had she been rushing to, or from, when she’d first gripped his attention and refused to let go?
The questions, and the lady, were so engrossing that it took him a moment to realize the bickering had stopped and the others had begun to stand. He started to do the same, surprised but delighted they were finished already, when de Sowlis nodded to him, indicating he wished for a private word outside the chamber. Unfortunately, it appeared the men were merely taking a break.
He followed Graeme out of the chamber, expecting to be chastised about his treatment of MacDuff. Instead, the man seemed almost . . . nervous.
“This is awkward for me, Reid,” he began.
Now he was even more curious.
“I do not typically meddle in such affairs.”
Reid waited and watched as Graeme’s eyes darted sideways. It struck him that this conversation would have nothing to do with MacDuff. Or their discussions.
This was about Allie.
His brother Alex had often said if he believed in witchcraft, he would think his own brother practiced such sorcery. The truth was less exciting. He merely observed more than most.
“Gillian worries, some may say overly much, for her sister.”
Reid tried hard not to smirk. Offending Graeme would infuriate Toren, so he simply pretended not to understand. “I should think so. She is, as I understand it, her older sister.”
Graeme smiled. “You know how protective an older sibling can be.”
“Protective? Nay. Toren only has half of Clan Kerr at my back when I travel more than a day’s ride away from Brockburg,” he joked.
“Then you understand . . .”
He liked Graeme, but he was not going to make this so easy on him. “Understand what, Graeme?”
“Allie seems to have . . . taken an interest in you.”
Reid’s pulsed raced at the possibility. He believed so as well, but she’d so easily dismissed him . . . “And your wife does not wish to encourage such an . . . interest?”
Reid did not need an answer. He already had one. But he wouldn’t lie to his host by promising to do something he was incapable of doing.
“Are you asking me to stay away from her?” he added.
He was, of course. But Graeme was nothing if not well-mannered. He would not offend him by saying as much outright. “She will not take kindly to you, Reid.”
“I’ve no doubt you are right.”
“She is unmarried. And very much an innocent.”
Reid held Graeme’s gaze. “I am aware.”
“And you—”
“Again, I am aware.”
“So quick to assume. Reid, I’ve known you for many years. You are a fierce warrior and as loyal as any man.”
That did manage to surprise him.
“I ask only you tread carefully here.”
“Understood,” he said, aware of the difficult position Graeme was in because of him.
“Good,” Graeme said. “We should return then.” As his host edged his way back to the solar, Reid remained in the corridor, considering the conversation. Graeme had not warned him away, but neither had he encouraged his advances. He’d done his duty to his wife, and if Reid were smart, he would heed the warning, however implicit.
He could not bed a woman such as Lady Allie unless he wanted to bring a bride back to Brockburg, which he certainly did not. But something about her compelled him, and if he was unwilling to lie to Graeme, he certainly would not do so to himself.
/> He’d no less avoid Lady Allie than the clan chiefs in that room would avoid a confrontation with the new warden. In fact, now seemed like the perfect time to find his fair English maid to learn exactly how kindly she would take to him today.
* * *
“I should be meeting with the others.” Aidan put down his own training sword and handed Allie a waterskin. She drank deeply, for the day was warmer than most, and tossed it on the ground.
“How could we not take advantage of the reprieve?” she asked, lifting the sword in front of her with both hands. A lavish dinner was being served after the meeting, and the men had been given leave to forgo their training for the remainder of the afternoon. Which had given her the opportunity to meet Aidan for a longer training session.
“It is likely over by now,” she said, placing her left foot forward and getting into position. “Though are you sure you do not wish to prepare for the meal?” Allie adjusted her grip and lifted the sword in front of her.
“My stomach can wait. Your defeat cannot.”
With that, Aidan made the first move, which Allie countered by blocking him with her sword.
“Good,” he said, pulling back. “Your turn.”
By the time Aidan stopped again for another break, Allie was breathing heavily, pleased with her progress.
“You’re a fine instructor, Master Aidan,” she said, picking the waterskin back up from where she’d discarded it earlier.
“Thank you,” he said, offering her a mock bow.
Allie laughed easily, as she’d always done with Aidan. Not long after they’d met, he’d taken to calling her “little sister,” and it fit. They had gotten along from the start, and Allie couldn’t be more grateful for his help. And for his discretion.
“Thank you.”
Aidan moved his sword from one hand to the other. “For?”
“For this.” She gestured to her sword. “For giving me something of my own.”
Aidan frowned. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like—”
“Let us not talk about Covington.”
Belatedly, Allie realized he wasn’t speaking of the Earl of Covington but of her father. She’d told Aidan enough that he pitied her, though she did not want anyone’s pity. In his own way, her father loved her and her sister. And at least her parents were alive. The relationship could improve. She felt poorly complaining about her parents when Aidan’s were both gone.
The Rogue’s Redemption Page 3
