The Rogue’s Redemption

by Mecca, Cecelia

Nothing.

  Another knock. More silence.

  He’d already looked for her in the hall, so he knew she was not there.

  “Allie?” he called.

  With his free hand, he pushed the door open.

  She was not there.

  His heart skipped a beat. Had she left Brockburg? Who would have given her escort? Though the trip was mostly on either Kerr or Scott land, that no longer seemed to matter. The recent raids had been pushing north and hitting much closer to them than they had in years.

  He put the tankard down on a table and left the room, practically running back down the stairwell and out into the night. He earned a few odd looks when he burst back into the hall moments after leaving it, but nothing more. Allie was nowhere to be seen.

  He looked everywhere . . . the wall-walk, the kitchen, each room in the great keep. He considered stopping to ask one of the servants whether she’d left, but Reid was too afraid of the answer.

  “Reid?”

  He spun around to face Father Simon. The courtyard was nearly empty but for the priest. Two young girls scurried past them, their giggling echoing long after they had left.

  “It appears you are not the only one awake past the time you should be.”

  Despite his worry for Allie, Reid stopped to answer the priest.

  “And what of you, Father Simon? Lurking in the shadows as usual, I see?” Reid scanned the courtyard as if she might appear from the darkness.

  “Looking for someone?”

  Reid was never sure how he did it, but Father knew everything, from what to do about the flowers that failed to sprout in the spring to what decisions Toren had made. Sometimes it seemed like he knew before the chief himself.

  He did not want the answer, but he asked the question anyway.

  “She’s gone, isn’t she?”

  Father Simon frowned, giving Reid an all-too-familiar look.

  Reid sighed loudly and crossed his arms. “Just once save your lecture—”

  “That you would ask such a question tells me you know even less than I’d expected.”

  “A riddle—”

  “No riddle, Reid. An observation.” Father Simon’s lips pursed before he spoke again. “Why do you believe she is gone?”

  The priest had the answer he sought, of that there was no doubt.

  “Can we play after you tell me whether Allie is still here at Brockburg?”

  Father Simon just stared at him, his lack of an answer enough of an answer.

  “Very well.” He thought about the question for a moment and then shrugged. “I know not why.”

  “Consider the question more carefully.”

  If any other man suggested such a thing, Reid would walk away. But he’d not insult Father Simon that way, even if every muscle in his body tensed and he wanted nothing more than to continue looking for Allie himself.

  “I made a mistake,” he said. “Going to the Day of Truce.”

  “And that is why you believe she left?”

  In fact, no.

  “Perhaps she changed her mind,” he said, more hesitantly.

  “About marrying you?”

  “Aye,” he ventured.

  “And why do you believe she may have changed her mind?”

  “Father, I would really like to know—”

  “If Lady Allie is still here at Brockburg. I know, son. And I have your answer. But first, tell me, why do you believe she may have changed her mind?”

  Reid began to think of the reasons why, but entertaining such thoughts was too painful. Instead, he answered glibly, “Because I would have if given the opportunity.”

  Father hated when Reid used that tone, but what else could he do? He simply wanted to know if she had gone back, and if so, with whom.

  “She is in the training yard.”

  It felt as if his whole body relaxed at once. His relief at hearing Father’s words was equal to—nay, greater than—when he’d seen Toren at the border.

  “Thank you,” he said, turning toward the pathway that led to the small area on the other side of the great keep. When Father Simon bade him a good night, Reid called back the same. Running now, he stopped only when the clearing came into view ahead of him. He and his men trained in a much larger area beyond the walls, so this spot was hardly used, especially at this time of night. The only light came from the torches bracketed to the walls above it.

  But that did not appear to stop Allie.

  She stood alone, the training sword in her hand, her movements slow and graceful. Still hidden in the shadows, Reid allowed his heart to slow and his breathing to return to normal as he watched her.

  Allie handled the sword as if she’d been raised with it in her hand.

  He couldn’t help but think of the first time he’d seen her in her training clothes. His body had always responded to her in a way that defied logic. Of course she was beautiful, any man could see such a thing. But there was something else about her, something uniquely Allie that had drawn him from the start. The day he’d left Highgate, not knowing whether he’d ever see her again, had been the hardest day of his life. Her arrival, the brightest.

  Why did he believe she had gone back to Highgate?

  Because she should have.

  But Allie was here, despite her good judgment, and he was going to celebrate that fact while attempting to forget everything else that had happened that day.

  * * *

  Reid was here.

  She could not see him, not yet. But she sensed a presence and knew someone stood watching her from the opening in the clearing. For a brief moment she’d been afraid, but she had Toren’s assurance that she would always be safe at Brockburg. Besides, she knew he and Reid trained their men to follow a strict code of honor.

  At first, she thought to confront him, but Allie wanted to finish her practice first.

  “I must admit, you are the first swordsman I’ve ever admired from the shadows.”

  She dropped the weapon and looked over her shoulder. Allie had forgotten him for a moment. How could she have done that? Each moment he’d been gone had felt like an eternity.

  “I am sure there are others you’ve admired,” she said, turning completely toward him.

  “Admired, aye,” he said, walking closer. “Watched the sway of their hips? Been jealous of a sword, wishing I could be so revered? Never.”

  He wrapped his hand around hers, squeezed it ever so briefly, and took the sword from her. Moving to the wall, he stood the sword up against it. He returned, his travel-weary clothing an indication that he had come back very recently.

  “You have just returned?”

  “Aye.” He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face upward. Allie would be content to stand in this very yard, without knowing the outcome of his journey, and simply stare into his eyes.

  “I missed you,” he said, lowering his mouth to hers. He captured her top lip first, then quickly followed the nip by hungrily consuming her. Allie responded, meeting his tongue’s thrusts with her own.

  He grasped the sides of her head, guiding her, as if she needed guiding. Allie wrapped her arms around him in order to feel his flesh beneath her fingertips, needing to ensure herself he was truly there. After worrying that he might not ever return . . .

  Reid moved his hands to her back, and then slid them lower. He squeezed her buttocks and pressed her against him. Allie would have gasped if she could have. The evidence of his need pressed against her, and she did not move away. Instead, she moved into him as he grinded against her hips.

  Reid moved his mouth to her neck.

  “I would take you here, Allie, if I could.”

  She lifted her head to give him greater access.

  “You’ve no idea the pleasures that await us.”

  Allie thought back to her bath and disagreed. “I believe I’ve some idea,” she said, the words difficult to form. She wanted more, craved more. Grasping at his shirt, she pulled upward until she found flesh.

&nbs
p; “I want more,” she whispered.

  As his mouth found hers again, Allie’s entire body felt like it had been set aflame. Her breasts pressed against his chest, his hardness continuing to taunt her, and Reid’s expert tongue made standing difficult.

  “I want you,” she said, pulling away. “Reid, I’ve never wanted anything more.”

  He looked at her for so long she began to wonder if she’d said the wrong thing.

  He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it. She knew that look, and didn’t like it.

  “What is it, Reid? What are you not telling me?”

  He stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. “Nothing,” he said. “But this . . . Allie . . . if you could understand how much I want to make you mine. If you could feel what I feel . . .”

  Reid looked down and Allie couldn’t help but let her gaze follow his. She could not see beneath his surcoat, but she didn’t need to. She’d felt it, and it no longer scared her.

  “I don’t want to wait,” she said.

  Reid took a step back. “Allie . . . God, please no. Do not—”

  “We will be married—”

  “And if your sister does not agree? You said you could live with your parents’ disapproval, but could you live with Gillian’s?”

  She did not hesitate this time. “Aye.”

  As much as she loved her sister, Allie knew she could not live without this flawed, beautiful, arrogant, fearless man by her side.

  He froze. “Do you understand what you’re saying?”

  Allie didn’t hesitate. “Aye. Do you?”

  Reid swallowed, and for one awful, terrifying moment, Allie thought he’d changed his mind.

  “We will be married,” he said, his smile slow and sensuous, as if promising she would not regret this decision.

  “We will.” And nothing, or no one, would stop her.

  29

  Allie had never been so happy.

  Last eve, the very opposite had been true, and then Reid had come home unharmed, and it had felt as if the world had opened up to her.

  They would say the vows as soon as it could be arranged.

  When a knock at her chamber door was followed by the sound of it opening, her first thought was of Reid. But it was Juliette who stuck her head around the door. “May I come in?”

  “Of course. I was just coming down to break my fast.”

  Allie knew immediately something was wrong. Although it was unusual for Juliette to be here this early in the morn, it was her expression that was most worrisome.

  “What is it?”

  Juliette sat on the edge of the bed. She spent too long fanning out her gown and smoothing its front, her attention to the material confirming Allie’s suspicions.

  “Juliette—”

  “A meeting has been called.”

  “A meeting?”

  “We must talk.” Juliette said, “Sit.”

  Allie did just that, though she’d never been overly patient, and Juliette’s hesitancy to explain herself tested her resolve to remain silent.

  “You’ve spoken to Reid since he returned?”

  Allie did not even attempt to deny it. “I did.”

  “And what did he tell you?”

  Thinking back to their conversation, Allie relayed all of what Reid had said about his leave-taking. But as she spoke, she realized there was more to his tale.

  “What is this meeting about?” she asked as soon as she’d finished.

  “The elders are angry with him—”

  “As is his chief?” she guessed.

  Juliette frowned. “Toren loves his brother.”

  “But he is angry with him.”

  “Aye,” Juliette admitted. “Very much so. Toren has always encouraged differing opinions. He would never presume to believe he has every answer, but Reid has always been so . . .”

  Juliette was reluctant to continue, so Allie finished for her. “Difficult.”

  A rueful smile was Juliette’s only response.

  “He disobeyed direct orders—”

  “Because he feared repercussions if Clan Kerr was the only one to miss the Day of Truce. Without word from Douglas—”

  “’Twas not his decision to make.”

  Nay, it was not. It was the clan chief’s decision, and Reid knew it well.

  “What will they do?”

  Juliette shrugged. “I cannot begin to presume, but I thought you should know. I’ve made arrangements for a meal to be brought here,” she said. “I thought we might want to talk—”

  “You’re worried.”

  Allie did not like Juliette’s expression. What did all of this mean?

  “I do not like to see Toren and Reid like this. They are brothers—”

  “But Toren is also chief.” Allie had learned much about the relationship between a chief and his clan from living with Graeme and Aidan. Many of the customs she’d encountered in Scotland were the same as those she’d become accustomed to growing up, but some were not. And the relationship between clan members was one of the main differences.

  They were interrupted by Elise, who brought a tray of food into the chamber and placed it on the sole wooden table. Allie was not hungry, but she did not want Juliette to eat alone, so they moved to the table together. It struck her that Juliette’s stomach had grown quite swollen.

  Allie approached her sister warily. “You should not have come up here—”

  “Because I should be in confinement instead? Aye, I’ve been told. Many, many times. In this, I choose to listen to my books rather than my people.”

  Juliette read more than anyone Allie had ever met. Her collection of books and manuscripts rivaled an abbey’s.

  “Does it hurt much?”

  Juliette spoke of the babe, her concerns for the future with the current troubles, and by the time Allie realized they had eaten all of the food on the tray, she realized what her friend had done.

  “You were distracting me,” she said, smiling gratefully.

  “Aye.” Juliette laid her hands on her stomach. “And I did it well too.”

  “My ladies?”

  When Elise called to them from the door, Allie’s heart sank. Had the meeting been concluded already?

  “Come in,” Allie said.

  “Pardon me, but we have visitors.” She looked directly at Allie. As if . . .

  “Your sister is here,” she confirmed. “And is asking for you.”

  Allie and Juliette exchanged a glance. Part of her had been expecting this, but enough time had gone by that she had begun to hope that her sister would indeed trust her to make the right decision. And she had, though it was not the one Gillian hoped for.

  “Well.” Juliette stood. “It seems as if this day will bring much excitement to Brockburg.”

  Allie wished excitement was the word for how she felt. Dread, more like. For nothing good could come of her sister’s arrival.

  * * *

  Staring at her hands on her lap, Allie listened to Gillian’s impassioned plea, waiting for it to be over. They sat in the hall, not a very private place for this discussion, but neither did Allie want it to be. She knew what her sister came here to say, and if she was going to disparage Reid, she could do so in his own hall.

  She and Juliette had passed more time than she’d realized. Servants were already beginning to prepare for the midday meal as she waited for Gillian to finish speaking.

  “I asked that you not do anything rash—”

  “And I intended to keep that promise.”

  “By convincing Aidan to take you here, alone?”

  Allie swept her hands up to indicate those around them. “Alone? I am not alone, Gill.”

  Gillian rolled her eyes.

  “I am surprised Graeme allowed you to come,” she said, attempting to direct her sister to another topic. “How many men did you—”

  “He didn’t allow me to come alone.”

  “He’s here?”

  “Aye.”

/>   By the time she and Juliette had arrived in the hall, only Gillian remained, waiting for her.

  “You should not have come—”

  “Of course I should have! And would have been here sooner if not for the Day of Truce. Graeme said Clan Kerr nearly did not send representation?”

  Grateful for the new topic, Allie explained all that had happened, with the exception of a few details. Namely, ones that implicated Reid as deceptive. She also failed to mention the meeting, knowing her sister would find out about it soon enough.

  “Has there been word from Douglas?” Allie asked.

  “Nay, and tensions are rising. I fear if there is not a resolution soon, the council will have been for naught.” Gillian sighed, the pain in her eyes making Allie wish they were not at odds with each other. “I hate this,” she said.

  “As do I.” Allie brightened. “And if you will simply give Reid your blessing—”

  Gillian’s scowl actually made her laugh.

  “You are the fiercest of sisters,” she teased.

  “And you are the most stubborn—”

  “Careful,” Allie said. “I see the beginnings of a smile. Remember you sit in Brockburg’s hall, home to the devil himself.”

  Poor Gillian. She really was trying, but this was one fight she would not win.

  “You really do love him.” Gill looked as if she had eaten rotten meat.

  “I do,” she answered. “Please, Gill. Give him another chance. You’ve seen the worst of him, now allow yourself to be open to his best. Trust that even though I am your little sister, I am no longer a child. In this, I will not be swayed.”

  Gillian looked up, toward the head table, and Allie followed her gaze.

  “They are your husband’s allies and friends. A clan of honorable men, Reid included, who will keep me safe, just as they do their lady. And Juliette . . . she is—”

  “Reid, come back here.”

  Her sister looked toward the entrance, where Toren’s voice echoed through the hall.

  “Reid!”

  He stopped, seemingly surprised to see them.

  And he was angry. As angry as she’d ever seen him. Fists clenched at his sides, Reid had been heading toward the sideboard when he spied them sitting at a trestle table. Juliette came rushing up behind her husband, and time seemed to stop.