Deceiving the Bandit Lord

by Elle Clouse

  “It might have to wait until spring,” Brogan said. “We have enough here to tide us over anyway. And we both know I learn through practice than study.”

  “That is true,” Ardhor agreed. “We should get out to the fields a little more often and get more combat training in.”

  Brogan nodded but despite the mystery that the manor turned out to be, his mind remained on Aisling. He’d not been alone with her since the meeting with the M’Tyr and he wondered if she was well. Her smiles were sweet at the evening meals but they seemed superficial.

  Brogan should be curious about a blank book but he wasn’t. He should want to find out why there was a secret magic lair, but he didn’t. He should care that the former owner may have died hiding their secrets, but he didn’t. He should be elated he was learning magic, but it all paled in comparison to seeing Aisling again.

  AISLING ROSE WITH THE sun and unfolded the note she’d read a million times the night before.

  “Save tomorrow for me.” Brogan’s handwriting was scrawling and garbled but she didn’t care. He’d passed her the note after the evening meal the day prior. How could he expect her to rest after such a note? The news of her mother stilled paled to the thought of seeing Brogan again. Her mother had been right, she needed to seize her chance at love. Consequence be damned.

  “Miss Cotton, I’m so glad you’re recovered so quickly from your cold.” She needed to think of a way to get out of Miss Cotton’s sights. Long enough to sneak off with Brogan. She longed for the days when she no longer needed a chaperone.

  “Yes, those tinctured Mr. Ardhor provided helped so greatly.” Miss Cotton sat at the vanity, braiding up her gray hair and knotting it under her white lace bonnet.

  Was that her opportunity? “Perhaps Mr. Ardhor would impart some of his wisdom to you, so you can make such medicines for my brothers and I, should we fall ill and the elf isn’t near? I’m sure my father would sing your praises should you acquire such a skill.”

  Miss Cotton wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and met Aisling’s gaze in the mirror. “Do you think Mr. Ardhor would teach me? This old maid?”

  Aisling almost felt bad for playing on the woman’s weakness for the elf. “I think he’d teach you. It’s a compliment really, to ask him. A testament to his skills.”

  The moments drew on as Miss Cotton stared at herself in the mirror. Aisling knew better than to say more, the old woman had to decide for herself.

  “It doesn’t hurt to ask I suppose.” Miss Cotton pinched her cheeks to bring out a blush and shuffled to the door. She hesitated. “You’ll mind yourself today? Stay out of trouble?”

  “Of course.” She picked up a book from the side table and held it up. “I’ve got a lot to keep me busy.”

  Miss Cotton nodded and exited. Aisling heaved a sigh of relief, she thought the old woman might stay.

  Aisling took didn’t know what the day would bring so she selected a wool gown in warm gray. It would be warm if they went outside but comfortable if they snuggled near a fire. The thought made her pause. Bundled up in a blanket with Brogan was exactly where she wanted to be.

  She braided her hair over her shoulder, keeping her tresses pinned with hidden pins. Satisfied with her reflection, she didn’t need to pinch her cheeks. Thoughts of Brogan brought a natural blush to her cheeks and a sly smile to her lips.

  The hall was empty as she crept down to the kitchen. Aisling found Corinna stoking the kitchen fires, a kettle hanging over the building flames. The cook looked up, smiled and skittered into the mudroom.

  “Good Morning.” Brogan greeted. He stood in his heavy cloak with gloves in hand. His smile could warm her from any winter’s night. Corinna rushed up with her cloak in hand, helping her don her outerwear. “I have a getaway planned today.”

  Brogan draped her scarf around her shoulders, each wrap around bringing him deliciously close. Corinna held the door open for them, giving a wave as they left.

  The sun peeked over the distant hills, streaking the sky with gold and rose hues. Brogan offered her his arm, her heart leapt when she stepped close. He led her to the stable and two steeds with saddle bags packed.

  “What’s our adventure for today?” Aisling asked she settled into the saddle of her mount.

  “With no more threat of bandits, I thought we could have a little sport and enjoy some luncheon. Then wander the rest of the day away. There is a blacksmith’s house a quarter mile out. Just far enough to avoid prying eyes.”

  “What sort of sport?” She guided her horse out of the gate with Brogan close behind.

  “Archery. A vital skill if you wish to take up hunting.” He smiled and kicked into a trot down a little used path in the snow. It was sweet that he remembered, took her words to heart.

  Her engagement flashed in her mind. She had to tell him sooner or later, and about being a wolfkin. Brogan made it so easy to forget all her other worries. When she was with him, nothing weighed on her.

  Brogan outpaced as her mind wandered. Snow covered the pine trees lined the lane and eventually opened to a field with the blacksmith’s cottage. Smoke wafted from the chimney, promising some warmth inside. She spotted two large bales of hay beside the cottage. A table stood a distance away with bow and arrows resting atop.

  “I should warn you, my cousin Caitlin is a little bit of an archery prodigy and she taught me everything I know. I may have a bit of an advantage.” Although she hadn’t been shooting in ages, not since Caitlin was engaged.

  “I’m a Fletcher,” Brogan laughed. “It’s in my name. I’ve been making archery equipment since I was born. To be able to make it, I had to use it. Only a test of skill will settle this.”

  They tied their horses under an awning. Brogan removed their saddles, draped them in a blanket, and set their feed bags. Her mind wandered to his supposed dealing with Declan. He hadn’t entertained the notion until that fatal party. Caitlin had been ruined but she swore Lord Knightly wasn’t at fault. Then Caitlin never spoke of it again. The ruin of Lord Blackling may have resulted in her arranged marriage now, and the clueless Lord Knightly now rules his own barony as the Lord Armanta.

  Would Brogan confess to his dealings with Declan? He seemed reticent to speak of his past. If it was more dealings like with Declan, she couldn’t blame him. Who would confess to being a criminal?

  When he was done, his smile nearly stopped her heart. It took a moment for her to realize he held out his hand for her.

  “Shall we?”

  She’d only intended to ruin her reputation but her mother’s words echoed in her mind. Seek love where you can. Could she love Brogan?

  She accepted Brogan’s hand and he led her onto the archery range.

  “Let me know if you get cold, I have tea and cocoa inside. And Corinna pack us some cold meats, cheese, and fresh breads for lunch. Let me know when you are hungry.”

  Aisling thought of breakfast left behind at the manor but her stomach didn’t protest. Who could think of eating when her tummy was full of butterflies? Scoundrel or not, Brogan made her heart leap when he looked at her.

  Aisling approached the tabled with the bows atop, the bottom of the legs were lost in the snow. She picked up the smaller bows, lined up with the target and pulled the string back to test the strength.

  Brogan plucked an arrow from the quiver then handed it to her, flight first. “Do me the honor of the first volley.”

  She snorted. “Volley? I’ve not picked up on any trick shots, just one arrow at a time for me.”

  “Cousin Caitlin didn’t show you that? Tsk tsk.”

  “I said she taught me everything I know, not everything she knew.” She accepted the arrow and knocked it back. Her arm wasn’t accustomed to the strain but she lined up her sight before letting loose. She only realized that she held her breath when the arrow hit the mark dead center.

  “Well, that’s a great start! And not an easy one to follow.” Brogan retrieved his bow and an arrow. He lined up on his target and let his arrow fly
.

  Aisling smirked, his shot flew awry.

  “I thought that this was meant to be a competition, Lord Fletcher,” she giggled.

  Brogan’s eyes narrowed and he had his next arrow aimed, ready to fly.

  Chapter 13

  By noon, Brogan had missed too often and so badly that they were reduced to sharing a handful or arrows. Her longing glances and carefree giggles had unarmed him faster than any weapon could. Normally he’d be angry at his loss but he didn’t care as long as Aisling was having fun.

  “We’ll have to settle this another time.”

  “When we have more arrows?” she teased.

  They placed their bows on the table.

  “How about we see what Corinna packed us for lunch?” Brogan suggested, glancing back at the blacksmith cottage. “And have some coffee?”

  “Sounds wonderful.” Aisling’s cheeks were rosy, and not from blushing. Even with the sun at its zenith, the warmth of the rays never reached them. He took her hand and led her to the cottage.

  Brogan opened the door for her. A cream tablecloth stretched over the dining table, candles ready to be lit set around the room, and two wooden chairs sat before the hearth where a merry fire burnt. Warmth engulfed them the moment they stepped inside.

  They hung their cloaks on pegs near the door. The fire was burnt down so Brogan set more logs on the fire. When he turned, Aisling had found the satchel Corinna had prepared. The first item Aisling pulled out was a large bottle of wine, then a basket of breads, jelly spreads, dried meats and cheese, and all the utensils.

  Aisling looked over the table and chuckled. “I don’t think I could have fit all this in that bag.”

  Brogan searched the bottom of the satchel for matches but there were none. While Aisling snuck pieces of cheese and bread, he lit the closest candle then took it about the room to light the rest. As much as he wanted to show his new talent, he wasn’t sure how she’d react to the magic. He set his candle on the table and he took a seat across from Aisling.

  “Don’t wait for me, I made you skip breakfast. Eat.”

  Aisling helped herself to a little bit of everything, filling the plate before her. He’d much rather be with her than his lessons with Ardhor. Although they came in handy when it came to lighting.

  “I gave Miss Cotton a fool’s errand this morning but she will not be happy when she realizes that we have both been missing all morning.”

  “What sort of errand?”

  Aisling laughed. “I suggested she ask your elfin friend to teach her herb lore.”

  “Clever!” Brogan wished he could see his friends face! “Should Ardhor expel his student, I’ve instructed Corinna and Phelan to cover our absence.” Brogan opened the wine and filled their cups.

  “Good thinking, however I don’t think that will distract her the whole day.”

  “My note asked for the day and that’s what I shall have.” He smiled then took a sip of his wine. “When you’ve had enough to eat, we can explore a bit. Corinna mentioned some ruins north of here? Some old monestary.”

  “You kept me out in the cold all morning, I may need to soak up warmth for a bit.” The sting from the cold winter air had left her cheeks, replaced with the warmth provided by the wine. She looked radiant. “The new treaty must be a weight off your shoulders.”

  “Yes, an unexpected boon. Although I must say if your mother weren’t married to the chieftain, the negotiations may have turn another direction.”

  “You said it yourself, it’s not about the size of your family, its who your family is that matters.” She sipped her wine.

  “Right, miss cousin-to-the-king.”

  “Mister cousin-to-the-queen.”

  She stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes, an unexpected and refreshing reaction. Brogan threw his head back and laughed. She giggled and he had to wipe a mirthful tear from the corner of his eye.

  Ardhor’s word came to mind about how to properly court Aisling. Truth be told she did outrank him, even with his royal connections. Should he pursue her as Lord Armanta or as Brogan Fletcher? Each approach was a gamble, pros and cons to each. Could he risk her finding out about his past and hide behind his title? Or come clean and let her decide?

  Brogan sampled more of his food although he tasted none of it. The way Aisling nibbled on her bread, added more jam, and then nibbled more was mesmerizing. She never ate that way at the evening meals, with all the company present. She’d been hiding her whole life, he realized. Trying to fit the mold of the perfect daughter and lady.

  Only the truth would due for Aisling. But when was the right time?

  “Shall we go for a walk?” she asked after her last biscuit.

  Brogan nodded and stood, taking her hand and leading her back to the coat hooks. They bundled up again and strode over the white crunching snow, surrounded by silence and solitude.

  “Rematch.” She pulled her hand free and scooped up a handful of snow.

  Brogan jumped to the side, barely missed by the snowball. With a short burst of speed, he was upon her and knocking her to the ground taking great care that she not be injured. Again she screamed and giggled until they came to rest on the fluffy white snow.

  “Why don’t we just start where we left off?” Brogan suggested, watching the expression on her face change from surprise to that kiss-me-silly look she had before. Brogan did not hesitate.

  Aisling smelled sweet as he leaned in to kiss her. Her eyes closed as he met her lips with his and the coldness around them seemed to melt away. Her lips were soft and supple but inexperienced and eager. Still, despite her slight awkward movements, the kiss was like none other he had experienced. As she relaxed against him, he deepened the kiss and heard a faint moan escape her lips. That was all the affirmation that he needed that he had made the right choice in kissing her. She clung to him like she never wanted him to let her go. He never wanted to.

  His kisses had trailed across her cheeks to her neck when she froze.

  “Someone is coming,” she whispered.

  He bolted to his feet and helped her up. He heard and saw no one.

  She brushed the snow from her cloak and then pointed to the tree line. Brogan followed her finger, Phelan ran down the road toward them, no more than a speck on the horizon.

  “How did you know?”

  There was no way she could’ve heard him coming. Aisling shrugged, her lips looking delightfully swollen from his attentions.

  “We’ll continue this another time.”

  She bit her lip. “I look forward to it.”

  Phelan’s breakneck pace slowed as he approached until he halted before them, great puffs of breath releasing into the cold air.

  “Brogan.” He gasped. “My lord. This just arrived from Talisin.” Phelan held out a wax sealed letter.

  Brogan snatched it up, his heart racing, only two people from Talisin knew where he was. Unfolding the cheap paper, he cringed at the words. “It’s Erann and Brigid. All is not right...”

  Phelan finished their abort phrase “...the world.”

  “I’M SORRY AISLING,” Brogan turned to her, his hand resting on her shoulder. “I know I promised you the whole day but we must call it here, I have urgent matters to attend to.”

  “Phelan, return to the manor and alert Ardhor. We’ll be returning shorty.” The lanky man nodded and trotted back whence he came.

  “Erann and Brigid?” Aisling struggled to keep her tone even, was that jealousy creeping into her voice? A moment ago, she was euphoric in Brogan’s arms.

  “Close friends. And I fear they are in grave danger. Let’s collect the horses and return.”

  Aisling nodded, slow to turn. Brogan wasn’t hers, she reminded herself. And she was betrothed to another, she had no right to feel rejected. “I’m sorry too.”

  Brogan stepped close, the tip of his finger to tilted her head up. His lips pressed to hers again, soft and gentle.

  “They are only friends.” He smiled. “As I said, we will con
tinue this later.”

  Her heart leapt. Had she been so transparent? She met his eyes and saw certainty, she would feel his lips again.

  She nodded, her words failing her. He cradled her cheeks for a moment, pressing his forehead to hers. When he released her, she felt abandoned even though he stood only a step away.

  Silence presided over the ride back. When the manor came into view, there was no one to witness their return. Aisling half worried that Miss Cotton would fly out the back door in a frenzy of propriety and lectures.

  Corinna greeted them at the door, a mug of tea waiting for each. Brogan thanked the cook in a mumble and strode through to where ever he went to disappear. Whatever had happened must be dire indeed.

  “What happened?” Corinna returned to the cook fire and poured herself a cup of tea. “I didn’t expect you back for hours. Phelan ran out there with that letter before I could question him.”

  “You know as much as I do.” Aisling took a sip and smiled at the hint of honey in the tea. A small solace in the face of a ruined afternoon.

  “Why do you look like your cat just drowned?”

  Aisling looked up in surprise, what an odd phrase. Corinna’s brows shot up, she expected an answer. Aisling sat at on a stool around the center counter, and set down her tea. The waring emotion in her heart threated to keep her from admitting to herself what her true feelings were.

  “Well, what happened out there?”

  “I think I fell in love.”

  Chapter 14

  Brogan took the note to his private with Phelan on his heels. They passed Ardhor in the main hall with Miss Cotton. With a point of his finger, Brogan summoned the elf from his lesson.

  “Sit down.” Brogan stood behind his desk, the chair pushed in and out of the way. Phelan sat in the tattered armchair and Ardhor closed the door behind him and leaned against the wood. Brogan looked to Phelan. “Do you remember the deal with Declan Blackling?”

  Phelan’s face wrinkled in disgust. “That pompous horse’s ass can rot in hell.”