The Rogue’s Redemption

by Mecca, Cecelia

  “And the conversation you referenced?”

  “My sister came to Lyndwood desperate to save me from the match. I was forced to lie to her. I told her I had a plan to get out of the marriage.”

  It took him a moment to understand.

  “But you had no such plan?”

  “Nay. Only a desire for the happiness of the one person who loved me above all. Which she’d not have had if she had gone back to Scotland knowing I was to be wed to Covington.”

  “You’d have sacrificed yourself for her.”

  Her answer was swift. “Always.”

  Reid looked at her with a combination of curiosity and reverence, a look that made her want to take back her words.

  “The bond between siblings . . . it is a gift, is it not?”

  It wasn’t his words that surprised her, but Reid’s soft tone. It suited him.

  “Very much,” she said, thinking of the many times her sister had loved and protected her. “You would have done the same,” she surmised, knowing it was true. This man would lay down his life for his sister and brothers.

  “I would,” was all he said, but his lack of any further explanation did not matter. What did matter was that she suddenly saw him. When Allie told him of her desire to see Gillian happy, she saw Reid Kerr for the first time. It was a fleeting glimpse. A brief flash of vulnerability—there and then gone. His mask was already firmly in place.

  But that vulnerability had been there.

  She’d seen it, and now she knew there was more to him than he allowed others to see.

  7

  Reid had taken advantage of the bath that had been offered to each visitor. The water had grown cold quickly, and though he was accustomed to chilly water from bathing at home in the frigid stream that ran from north to south at Brockburg, he was anxious to make his way to the hall.

  To see her again.

  Reid looked around the small but well-appointed guest chamber in Bronwen Tower. Years ago, when he was but a young boy, he’d stayed in this same tower as a guest, but he hadn’t given Highgate End much thought after that. Not during the fissure between his clan and Clan Scott, and not after the alliance had been renewed. He certainly hadn’t thought this would be where he’d meet the lass who would challenge his conviction to remain single.

  Reid liked both of his sisters-in-law well enough, but he enjoyed his role as the younger, unwed brother. Not that he was considering marriage to Lady Allie. Certainly, he was not. Still, he could not deny that the woman captivated him, in a way that went far beyond a physical attraction.

  Easily finding his way through the castle’s semidarkened corridors and into the courtyard, Reid walked under the pentice toward the great hall. He preferred using the covered walkway to winding his way through the pantry and kitchen.

  A mist filled the air, threatening rain.

  “Reid.”

  Aidan de Sowlis.

  Reid had expected a talk with him this evening. In fact, he was anxious to speak to the man. He turned.

  The younger de Sowlis brother was not much like him. Both of them had been left in the care of their older brothers at a young age. But the similarities stopped there. Most knew Aidan as a kind yet fierce warrior. None would describe Reid that same way, at least not using the word “kind.”

  “De Sowlis.”

  “We need to talk.”

  The mist began to morph into a light rain. And though they were covered, a spray of water made its way to them.

  “In the hall?”

  “Nay, here.” His jaw locked and brows drawn, Aidan’s expression implied he may have spoken to his brother. Would he change his mind about Allie’s training?

  “Aye, here then,” he said. Those remaining in the courtyard scattered, finding shelter against the strengthening downpour. He waited for Aidan to guide their conversation.

  “Tis good to see you again.”

  Reid had always liked both de Sowlis brothers and replied honestly. “And you, de Sowlis.”

  “Is it true you saved Toren—”

  “Not I,” he said, recalling the incident as he’d done more than once since arriving. “My clansmen.”

  Aidan’s eyes narrowed as if he did not believe him. But it was true, in Clan Kerr, no one was blamed or praised for their individual feats.

  “Very well.” Aidan paused. “What are your intentions regarding Lady Allie?”

  As was his custom, Reid’s response was to offer an honest answer. “I don’t know.”

  Aidan frowned, clearly not liking that answer. “Not good enough.”

  “If you want me to stay away from her, agreeing to let me train her does not seem—”

  “Stay away from her?” Aidan appeared genuinely confused.

  “Your brother spoke to me earlier. On his wife’s behalf.” He attempted to temper the words with a smile. “I apparently did not make a good first impression on the lady of Highgate.”

  Aidan didn’t share in his amusement. “Unusual for you, is it not? With a woman at least.”

  “Most unusual,” he agreed. “Although it seems to be a family trait.”

  “If Allie truly did not care for you, I’d never have agreed. Or left you there with her.” He shrugged. “Even with a man whom I’ve personally witnessed risking his life to save another.”

  They’d fought together more than once, though Reid did not know the particular incident to which Aidan referred. “You asked for me to share my intent, but what is your own? Why leave the lady alone, and vulnerable, with me?”

  Aidan didn’t answer for a time.

  Reid waited.

  “Allie is not as vulnerable as you think,” he said finally. “And I did it for the simple reason that she wanted me to. Even if she said otherwise.”

  Aidan spoke in riddles.

  “And you are better with the longsword than I,” he added.

  “We can agree on that, at least.”

  “I ask again, what are your—”

  “And I answered you already, Aidan. I’d not dishonor her, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Aidan’s eyes narrowed. “I would not expect it. But that isn’t what worries me.”

  “Then what—”

  “She has been sheltered most of her life and deserves a bit of adventure. But she does not deserve to have her heart broken by a man—”

  “Aidan, you get ahead of yourself. I’ve agreed to train her, nothing more.” Even as he said the words, Reid recognized the lie.

  “And I agreed to it because of the way she looks at you. I think of her as my true sister. All I ask is that you remember that fact.”

  Reid really should forget he’d ever met Allie. Give her training back to Aidan, spend his afternoons listening to the bickering of the border chiefs, and go back to Brockburg when the council was over.

  Unfortunately, he could not do that.

  “You have my word,” he said. “But your other sister-in-law—”

  For the first time since their conversation began, Aidan smiled. “Allie can handle her sister,” he said. “I worry more about your intentions.”

  Rightly so.

  “I said I will not dishonor her, and I will not.”

  He had been warned. Twice. Only a fool would continue down a path that would lead to his own destruction.

  And yet, he hastened to the great hall just the same.

  * * *

  He’d been watching her all evening. Yet if she paid him any more attention than the occasional surreptitious glance, Gillian would attempt to lock her in her bedchamber until the council was over. Proud of her effort to avoid looking his way, Allie was about to take a bite of the stewed partridge when Aidan whispered, “He is sitting just to the left of the sideboard.”

  Of course she looked. As if she had not already known where Reid was sitting.

  “You are the worst sort of scoundrel.”

  Aidan leaned back, apparently pleased with himself.

  “He is not very subtle,” Aida
n answered.

  “Shhh.” She glanced at her sister, who was speaking intently with her husband.

  “She didn’t hear me.” Aidan reached for the salt cellar, an elaborate silver piece that had been a fixture of the head table for generations, according to Gillian. “So tell me, how did it go after I left?”

  Darting another careful glance at Gillian, Allie told Aidan about the remainder of her afternoon. Increasingly uneasy about keeping her training sessions from her sister, Allie had actually planned to tell her, but now that Reid was her teacher . . .

  “I believe we should continue to keep the sessions private for now.” Allie nodded to her left.

  “I should think so,” Aidan said, wiping his fingers on the small linen cloth at his side. He lowered his voice once again. “She is not alone in her assessment of him, you know.”

  Allie watched Aidan’s expression carefully. “You dislike him?”

  Aidan sighed and looked straight at the man in question, who was now in deep conversation with the others at his table. “I did not say that.”

  Allie waited for him to continue.

  “I believe Re—”

  “He,” she interrupted, not wanting Aidan to say his name aloud even though they were speaking in low voices.

  “He,” Aidan corrected. “I believe he is a good man, a respected warrior, who has yet to find his place.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Aidan smiled at the maid who brought a new jug of wine to their table. “When his older brother married and moved to Dunmure Tower, there was immediately talk of him being named second.”

  Allie smiled, grateful for Aidan’s discretion.

  “Some say he doesn’t want it. Others believe the clan elders won’t allow it. Though no one knows the truth.” Aidan shrugged. “As I said, he does have somewhat of a—”

  He cut himself off and gave her a look.

  Allie hated that look.

  “You were about to say something to insult my young, delicate English ears,” she said. She may have more freedom at Highgate than she did in Lyndwood, but she was still treated as a child sometimes.

  “A reputation with women.”

  “Oh my,” she mocked, holding her hands to her ears. “Not that. However will I recover? My tender sensibilities have been damaged beyond repair.”

  Aidan laughed.

  “You must share the jest,” Gillian said, turning toward them.

  “Aidan has been taking lessons from you, dear sister, on how not to insult my innocence.”

  Gillian and Graeme exchanged a very different kind of look—one full of affection and something more—and Allie groaned aloud.

  She appealed to Aidan. “You may stay to witness this display,” she teased, “but I must excuse myself for a moment. ’Twill be a long night,” she said, indicating the musicians in the corner of the hall.

  “My lady,” Aidan said, standing. “Until your return.”

  Allie made her way through the hall, smiling and nodding to the few familiar faces, careful not to glance his way. She picked up the hem of her favorite royal blue gown, the heavy velvet suited more for winter, and made her way toward the nearest garderobe.

  She must not have been gone for very long. On her way back, Allie swore the same song was being played, the pipe and tabor a reminder of her youth in Lyndwood. When she turned the corner, careful not to walk into the oil wall torch she knew was bracketed on the other side, Allie stopped so quickly she nearly fell forward.

  “Oh,” she said, the smell of food and woodsmoke replaced by the scent of sandalwood.

  “My lady,” Reid said.

  Allie ignored her racing pulse and curtsied, pretending not to notice how different he looked this evening. Clean-shaven and dressed in a rich black surcoat that made his hair appear even lighter, Reid Kerr was even more handsome than usual. Oh, he was the most dangerous sort of man. One who had the ability to rob her of all coherent thought.

  When she tried to walk past him, he grasped her arm.

  “Going back so quickly?”

  She looked down at his hand on the dark fabric of her gown. Large and powerful, like the rest of him. It dropped promptly, and she unaccountably mourned the loss of his touch.

  “Gillian will be looking for me,” she said without moving.

  “Protective,” he said.

  She remembered what she had told him earlier that day. “Aye, very much so. Especially, it seems . . .” She stopped, wondering how to finish.

  Reid did so for her. “About me.”

  Allie felt every rise and fall of her chest. Though the corridor was empty now, anyone could walk by and see them. And they stood much too close to be proper.

  “Aye,” she said simply.

  Reid looked at her mouth, and she could not resist doing the same with him. What would it feel like if he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers? Allie had been kissed before, once by a man she found quite attractive. Unfortunately, her father had not cared. The match had not been suitably advantageous.

  Would it feel the same way with him?

  For a wild moment, Allie thought she was about to find out.

  “You did well today,” he said instead.

  Just when she was about to thank him, he added, “For a woman.”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  “What is wrong with you?” she asked sincerely. “Are you utterly incapable of having a conversation without causing insult?”

  “It appears not.”

  “Well then, I congratulate you. If your intent is to make everyone believe you are without sentiment, understanding, or kindness, then you are doing an exceedingly good job.”

  When that damn smirk appeared, Allie had to resist the desire to stomp on his foot.

  “And if you are instead attempting to mask a deep, very well-hidden bit of humanity for some unknown reason,” she said, trying not to raise her voice, “then you are quite successful there as well. Either way, I will thank you not to speak to me for the remainder of the evening.”

  With that, she walked away. Slowing her strides as she neared the entrance of the hall, Allie had to remind herself not to appear angry. The last thing she wished to do was explain herself to Gillian or Aidan. And at the moment, she was not inclined to speak to anyone about the arrogant, insufferable Scotsman, who would unfortunately be training her the next day.

  Nay. She would not meet him. If Allie wanted to be insulted, she would go back home to England, to her father. How could she have thought there was any decency in him? She was always too easily swayed, but this time she would learn her lesson.

  For the remainder of the evening, and until the council was over, Allie would pretend Reid Kerr did not exist.

  8

  Allie might not want to train with Reid, but that did not mean she did not wish to train at all.

  After a long morning of introduction to the various visiting chiefs, and the Lord Warden himself, she made her excuses and her escape. The timing was perfect—the men’s training had been cancelled for the day in favor of a daylong feast and celebration that would not end until darkness fell and supper turned to dinner. It would seem the Lord Warden had arrived just in time. According to Gill, disagreements had begun to turn into arguments. All agreed there was a problem, but none could come to terms on a solution. They needed the fierce man’s input and experience. To Allie, the celebrations meant one thing: no one would be roaming around. No one would find her practicing. After pleading a headache, she hurried to her chamber to change into her shirt and breeches then snuck out the side door of the tower, which led directly to the gatehouse. When Lawrence handed her the sword, she thanked him and made her way down the hill.

  Though Allie had considered telling Aidan about her argument with Reid, she’d decided to train alone instead. Her brother-in-law would not be pleased with the risk she took, but she could not bear to sit idle, even on such an overcast day. Much like yesterday, a mist blanketed everything around her, the gray sky not
allowing for any glimpses of the sun.

  Moving into position, Allie began the session just as Aidan had instructed her to do. Left foot forward, arms at shoulder height. She swung the sword and pulled back, feeling more and more at ease with each movement.

  “Remember to bend your back leg.”

  She swung around and groaned. “No,” she said, dropping the sword to her side. How unfair was it for her heart to always beat so rapidly for a man she should hate? “I did not invite you here for a reason.”

  There it was again.

  For the second time since they’d met, his cocksure grin was replaced by an almost sorrowful expression. As he moved toward her, the mischievous twinkle in his eyes was replaced with an honesty she found hard to ignore.

  “I did not come here to train you,” he said. “I am here to apologize.”

  Even the tone of his voice was different. He sounded . . . normal. Less sure of himself.

  Yet she had vowed to stay away from him. Was she so fickle that one kind word could draw her to him?

  Nay!

  “Then say the words and be gone.”

  But he didn’t say anything at all. Reid looked at her for so long that Allie felt the need to speak. “Why do you look at me like that?”

  “I’m sorry,” Reid said finally.

  That was it? His grand apology was all of two words?

  “Very well. You’re sorry.” She turned away, willing him to leave, despising herself for wanting him to stay.

  “I don’t know why I said you only did well for a woman. I meant to say you did well, as well as any man.”

  She frowned. “Which means much the same.”

  Allie didn’t move. And she most especially did not turn around.

  “My sister,” he said quietly as the mist continued to gather, “is more capable than most men, and as you know, my sister-in-law wears men’s breeches. It’s said the woman with whom my brother-in-law fosters can shoot a bow and arrow better than her husband.”

  Allie did turn back then. “Neill fosters with a woman?”

  She had heard plenty about Sara’s brother-in-law Neill, a celebrated knight, but certainly not that.