It had not gone well.
She stood and looked into his eyes, imploring him silently. Reid seemed to understand as he turned to Gillian and greeted her as smoothly as the most refined courtier.
“Lady Gillian,” he said. “I had not realized you were here at Brockburg.”
Her sister smiled tightly. “Graeme is here as well.”
The news did not seem to please Reid, whose jaw flexed in anger. “Of course, you are both most welcome.”
By now, Toren and Juliette had reached them. If Juliette had appeared worried that morning, she seemed even more so now. Allie’s gaze darted from one of them to the next.
“The meeting did not go well?” She had not intended to ask in front of Gillian, but worry had loosed her tongue.
Reid shot a furious glance at his brother and then pursed his lips together. When he looked back at Allie, she saw something in his gaze that sent a chill through her body.
“Reid, tell me—”
“I am sorry, Allie.”
“Come,” she said. “We can walk.” She turned to Gillian. “If you will excuse us—”
“Nay.”
His voice put her instantly in mind of the old Reid, the one she’d met and did not like. Cold. Harsh.
“Stay with your sister,” he said as if he were speaking to a servant. The warmth with which he usually addressed her was nowhere to be found.
“But Reid, something is wrong.”
For the briefest of moments, the man she loved was there, standing before her. But the ever-so-slight softening in his eyes faded too quickly.
“It is,” he agreed. “We are wrong.”
Allie only understood the words when she noticed Gillian’s expression. Unfortunately, Toren and Juliette had heard him as well, and they all looked at her with pity. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. This could not be happening.
“I am glad you are here, my lady,” Reid said to her sister. “To escort Allie back to Highgate End, where she belongs.”
With that, he bowed to them both, turned, and walked from the hall. And apparently from her life.
30
Reid bent over, hands on his knees, ignoring the knock on the door. Pounding, more like, and shouting too. Toren’s voice. Finally, his brother stopped trying. He took a series of short breaths, hoping one would fill his chest with the air he so desperately needed.
Since his proclamation yesterday, he’d tried everything he could think of to put Allie out of his mind. He’d trained, too hard. He’d taken a long, fast ride without a destination. He’d attempted to let sleep take him.
None of it had worked.
He stood but did not move. How long he remained in that position, Reid wasn’t sure. But when another knock on the door interrupted his dark thoughts, he did not ignore it. He yanked open the door and stared at his sister-in-law, unable to bring himself to tell her to go away.
Juliette looked past him into the antechamber and crossed her arms.
“You are an incorrigible arse.”
Did she think he would disagree? Reid was about to ask her to leave when she pushed past him and entered the small room attached to his bedchamber. Without windows or a fire, it was dark despite that the morning sun had already risen outside.
“You turned Toren away,” she said, her voice flat.
“Jules, now is not a good—”
“He is distraught.”
“As well he should be.” Reid was not feeling charitable.
Though Juliette was obviously angry, and there was no doubt he had given her reason to dislike him mightily right now, she looked at him with pity rather than hatred. “Do you wish to talk about it?”
“No.”
But the blasted woman did not move to leave. Instead, she crossed her arms and waited.
“There is naught to discuss—”
“Except that the elders denied your request to serve Toren as his second.” She brought her finger to the corner of her mouth. “And I seem to recall something else. Let me remember. Oh yes! You sent away the only woman in the world who tolerates you.”
His hands shook. Balling them into fists to make them stop, he struggled to remain calm.
“As I said, there is nothing to discuss.”
Juliette obviously disagreed. She walked past him, into the darkened room, and began to pace. It would appear she’d picked up the habit from his brother. Though heavy with child, Juliette seemed even fiercer than the chief.
“I disagree. So you can either speak to me about it, or I will send Toren back to plague you. And know this—neither of us will leave you alone to sulk.”
“What,” he growled, “do you wish to discuss?”
As soon as she left, Reid would take another long ride from Brockburg. He had no wish to see any of them just now. But first he had to get rid of Juliette. No easy task.
“He does not agree with their decision.”
“It does not matter.”
“Of course it matters!” If she was exasperated, he was no less so. “Toren wanted you and none other.”
“Juliette, it is done. They’ve made their decision—”
“And until a second is chosen, nothing is final.”
That was where she was wrong. They’d passed judgment on him, just as he’d thought they would, and he doubted their opinion would ever change.
“I will stand by my brother, second or not, if that is what worries you.”
She paused in her pacing long enough to glare at him. “You are what worries me. Why did you do it? How could you have spoken to her so?”
If she had taken a dagger and stabbed him in the heart, it would have been no less painful than to hear the disappointment in her voice. Well, she wasn’t the only one disappointed in him.
“She deserves better.” He said it so softly that Reid wasn’t sure if she heard him. But it did not matter. It was done. He had promised her sister that he would return to Highgate a different man, a respected one worthy of Allie’s hand in marriage. Instead, he had disobeyed his chief and lost the support of his clan.
It would have been better for Allie had they never met.
“You are wrong, Reid.”
Of course Juliette would say so. She cared for him, though Reid had done little to earn her affection, and as angry as Toren was at him, his brother would still be his brother after all of this settled. They were stuck with him.
Allie was not.
Unfortunately, it did not appear Juliette was done.
“I said you were an arse—”
“Your husband does enjoy calling me that.”
“Not because you disobeyed your chief . . . not because the elders have punished you for doing so . . . but because you let her go, and that was the biggest mistake you’ve ever made in your life. You will regret it once you stop hating yourself so much.”
With a final glare, Juliette turned and left. She did not bother to close the door, so he hastened to do so lest his brother had a mind to return.
Reid did not want to speak to him, or anyone.
* * *
“I will kill him.”
It was a refrain Allie had heard from Graeme more times than she could count since the previous afternoon. He’d said those words almost as often as Gillian had pleaded with her to leave Brockburg. She knew she should probably capitulate—indeed, her first thought had been to leave at once, never to see Reid again. She’d gone to her room to gather her things, but something had held her back.
Not something.
Someone.
The sight of the training sword she’d received from Brockburg’s armorer had put her in mind of her first training sessions with Reid. In a way, this was what he had wanted from the start. For her to give up, for Gillian to be right about him. Juliette had told them about the elders’ decision, and as much as Allie knew she should continue to be angered by what Reid had said . . .
She’d reversed her decision and told Gillian she was not ready to leave. Her sister had
, of course, been furious. And Graeme was no less so now that nearly a full day had passed since Reid’s declaration.
“I would prefer that you do not kill him,” she told her brother-in-law as he escorted her and her sister from the keep. Allie had expected to see Reid at the midday meal, but he had not come, and she’d struggled to hide her disappointment. Toren had apologized for his brother, Juliette had pleaded with her to stay a little longer, Gillian had begged her to leave, and Graeme had cursed more times than she’d heard him do since they’d met.
It was becoming difficult for her to think, and certainly she could not do it like this.
“As would I,” Toren said, coming up from behind. “A word?” he asked Graeme. With a final glare her way—he agreed with Gillian that it was time to leave—he stepped away with the chief.
“Would you join me?” Juliette asked sweetly, cupping her hands around her stomach, and Gillian was clearly torn. It was obvious she wished to deny Juliette, but to do so would be impolite. After a moment, she nodded her head ever so slightly.
Juliette led them down an empty corridor, through a door Allie had never used before, and outside into one of Highgate’s many gardens. This one contained more herbs than flowers. Located just outside the main keep, next to the entrance to the kitchen, it was as private a spot as any. Allie had never been to this part of the castle before.
“Lady Gillian,” Juliette said as they sat on the stone benches situated in nearly every outdoor space of the castle. “Please forgive my brother-in-law—”
“Gillian, if it pleases you.”
Juliette’s smile was warm and genuine, as always, and Allie could tell her sister was falling under her spell as well.
“Gillian,” she said, “if I were Allie’s sister, it is likely I would feel as you do. But I have no sisters, as much as I’ve always wished for one. Instead, I have a dear sister-in-law and two brothers by marriage, one of whom I very much disliked when we first met.”
Reid.
At least she had managed to surprise Gillian.
“You did?” her sister asked.
Juliette nodded. “I could not understand at first how he could be so respected as a warrior, his bravery and loyalty never in question. To me he appeared arrogant and self-serving. Until I understood him, as Allie must have done from the start. I will not defend his actions,” she said to them both, “but I would be remiss if I did not at least attempt to explain. When he was rejected by the elders—”
“For a position he claimed not to want,” Gillian ventured.
“Of course he wanted it,” Juliette said. “But admitting as much would challenge his own belief that he is less worthy as his brothers.”
“That he could be just as respected as they, if he tried,” Allie added.
“I can appreciate his position,” Gillian said, considering their words. “And also that my first impression of him might have been misguided.”
Now Allie was genuinely surprised. It was the most magnanimous she’d been toward Reid.
“But that does not mean I wish for him to marry my sister.”
“I understand,” Juliette said.
Suddenly, Allie couldn’t take it anymore. Everyone around them had done so much talking, back and forth, ever since the night they’d exchanged promises to each other. What was the point? If Reid truly wanted her to leave, it was over. And if not? Well, shouldn’t they marry and be done with it?
It was time to shove her pride aside.
Allie turned to Juliette. “Where is he?”
“I spoke to him earlier in his chamber,” she said. “And he is being as stubborn as always.”
“I will go to him. This must be decided today.”
She shifted her gaze to her sister’s horrified expression.
“He may not be the man you would have chosen for me,” she said gently. “But he is the one I choose. If he will not see me, then the decision is taken from me. But if he will”—she took a deep breath, knowing what this might mean for her relationship with her sister—“then we will become husband and wife.”
“But, Allie—”
“I love you, Gill,” she said, “but I will not be swayed. Not in this.”
When she turned to leave, Allie closed her eyes, paused for a moment, and then walked away. Every step she took was lighter than the last. Whatever the outcome, Allie had made a decision on her own, for herself, and she would not apologize for it.
She was no longer defined by her roles as Gillian’s sister or Lyndwood’s daughter.
She was a woman who would not be denied. Not by her father, nor her mother. Not even by Gillian.
And not, if she could help it, by Reid.
31
Reid jumped from his mount and began the climb toward the gatehouse. As ever, his thoughts turned to Allie. She was likely home by now, safe inside the walls of Highgate End as Graeme prepared for the possibility of battle. As he reached the gatehouse, he lifted his arm in greeting and was admitted.
He’d shirked his duty for nearly a full day now, so Reid made his way directly to the stables with the intention of heading toward the training yard. The men still needed training. His brother, guidance.
Nothing had changed, really.
Nay, that was not true. He had changed.
And she had changed him.
She’d made him desire the elders’ respect, his brothers’ respect, but they did not trust him. Their mistrust hurt. Weighed on him even now, though not as much as the knowledge that he had sent away the one person who believed in him.
“Your brother has been looking for you.”
Reid handed the reins to a groom and greeted Father Simon. “Good day, Father.” No doubt he had something to say about Reid’s behavior of late, some bit of censure Reid was in no mood to hear. He clenched his teeth and added, “If you are going to lecture me, then do so and be done with it.”
“Lecture? Have you known me to do such a thing?” the priest teased. Then, perhaps noticing the look in Reid’s eyes, he added, “No lecture today, but I pray that you will act before it is too late.”
With those ominous words, Father Simon began to walk away, leaving Reid to wonder what he meant by that. Too late? For what?
Wasn’t it already too late?
Reid was about to let the comment go, but curiosity took hold and would not release him. Following the priest, who walked in the opposite direction of the training yard, he called out, “Too late for what?”
Father Simon stopped. He looked toward the gatehouse, where Reid had just entered, and then back at him.
“I spoke of Lady Allie.”
Reid froze.
“She’s back at Highgate,” he said, confused.
She was not. Reid could sense his mistake from Father Simon’s confused expression. But he kept looking just beyond the gatehouse as if . . .
“Did she just leave?”
Father Simon frowned. “I am surprised you did not see her on your return.”
Could it be true? If she’d just left, that meant she had not gone back the day before. She’d actually stayed after he so viciously shut her out. Why?
For you, you arse.
Nay, he was not just an arse. The most ignorant bloody fool in the entire country.
Despite everything, she’d stayed. She’d likely waited for him earlier in the day. Maybe she’d even attempted to find him and speak with him while he was gallivanting about, foolishly attempting to distract himself.
Father Simon was right. It likely was too late, but damned if he would let her go, again, without finding out for himself.
32
Allie let the steady gait of her horse lull her into a daze, the landscape a blurry backdrop.
Her knock on Reid’s door had gone unanswered. He was gone, and no one knew where, let alone when he would return. Allie had been left in a fit of confusion. What was she to do? Succumb to her sister’s pleas? Or should she follow her heart, which told her to accept Juliette’s offer
to stay and fight for the man she loved. The man who loved her, but not himself.
Ultimately, she’d felt she had little choice but to leave. If he would not fight for her, for himself, then she could not do the fighting for both of them.
She supposed the notion of marrying for love was a fool’s quest. Gillian and Graeme did, indeed, love each other, but their marriage had been forced upon them, albeit by circumstances of their own making. Juliette . . . Sara . . . they were not the norm. A more typical marriage was that of her parents, two people who had come together at the behest of their families. Even so . . .
Allie’s sigh earned her a glance from her sister, who was riding next to her.
“I am sorry,” she said, not for the first time. “I want you to be happy. I did not want this.”
“I know you did not,” Allie said, though in truth she could not help wishing she were alone. She had no wish to talk with Gillian, or anyone.
Her sister must have sensed as much because she remained quiet long enough for Allie to remember every encounter she’d had with Reid. She smiled ruefully. Gillian’s opinion of him had been well-deserved in many ways.
“A smile?” Gillian prompted.
“I was thinking how unlucky it was that you kept witnessing Reid at his worst.”
“Unlucky . . . perhaps.”
They slowed as the men in front of them came to a stop. When Allie heard the trickle of water above the sound of leaves rustling in the wind, she understood why they had stopped. Following Graeme’s lead, Allie and Gillian dismounted and led their horses toward the small stream that ran across their path. Pain knifed into her. Allie remembered this same stream from her trip to Brockburg. Then, she had been filled with hope for her future. Now, the future seemed so drab. So dull. So empty of Reid.
Gillian handed her reins to Graeme’s squire, who reached up for Allie’s next. She handed them over and joined her sister at the edge of the stream. When she placed her fingers in the shallow stream, she jolted back from the cold. How Reid could think to bathe in such frigid waters . . .
The Rogue’s Redemption Page 19
