The Rogue

by Allison Butler

  ‘I’ll return with you to your cottage and can check Netti’s legs.’

  He leaned low and righted the stool, but instead of retaking his seat he watched Keila secure the hide with a strip of leather. ‘Nae need, lass. Just the potion will do.’

  She slid the potion-filled jug toward him and he picked it up and turned for the door.

  ‘Rory,’ she called and followed him out. ‘It’s nae bother for me to come with you. Truly.’

  ‘Netti’s nae wantin’ visitors, lass.’ He waved over his shoulder but never looked back as he marched back across the moor the way he’d come.

  Torn, Keila searched the bend in the River Livet for Adair but saw no sign of him. He’d had plenty of time to fetch the water and should have been back by now. Had something happened to him? Pain pricked her chest. She looked toward the stable. The sight of one pail sitting outside the single door entrance erased the frown from her face. He must be checking the horses.

  Her gaze brushed on Rory’s retreating figure again as she still worried what she should do, before settling on Moira’s shuttered window. It wasn’t like her friend to still be abed and a concern that the chase the day before had affected Moira more than she’d admitted took hold. What if she’d called for Keila in the night and Keila hadn’t heard her cries for she’d spent the night in the ale shed, in Adair’s arms, instead of in her bed?

  With one last glance toward the stable and then at Rory’s distant form, Keila turned and hurried in through the kitchen and up the small stairway that led to Moira’s upper chamber.

  ***

  Dair closed the stable door and picked up the second pail of water he’d set down outside before filling the horses’ water trough using the other. After he’d waded into the cold waters of the River Livet for a brisk wash, he’d donned his clothes and decided to check on Mist and Nettle. They’d seemed unharmed when he’d checked them the day before, but he wanted to ensure they hadn’t suffered any injuries he hadn’t noticed after their wild ride. Thankfully, both were whole and well. As was Demon, despite being ensconced inside a stall within the stable. Dair would take his mount for a run soon. Once he’d delivered the water he’d promised to the woman who set his heart to hammering at the thought of her.

  He’d tied his hair back in a half knot and could feel the cold trail of water dripping down the centre of his back as he looked at the early morning light splashing this home of Keila’s that she loved so well. She was a caring, passionate woman with much to give and should be cared for and loved well and pleasured often. While he believed he understood the reason behind her vow to never wed, a heavy feeling of loss dragged at his heart and he wondered if there was any chance she’d change her mind.

  He lifted his hand and knocked on the kitchen door, but instead of waiting to be called inside, he entered the kitchen, the smile on his face directed at the place behind the lengthy table where he expected to see Keila smiling back at him. The kitchen was empty. The only signs that someone had been here recently was the mortar and pestle left on one side of the table, the strong aromatic smell of herbs suffusing the air and the pot of water boiling within the hearth.

  Adair set the filled pail down on the trestle, and using a thick cloth, lifted the bubbling pot from the flames and set it on the stones within the hearth. He turned at the sound of hurried footsteps and found Keila rushing into the kitchen from the sitting room. One look at her bonny face told him something was amiss.

  ‘What is it?’ He tossed the cloth on the table and strode around the timber board toward her. The look of relief on her face when she saw him squeezed his heart with pleasure. He gently grasped her slender arms and looked into her emerald eyes as she clutched his forearms.

  ‘It’s Rory. He came for a potion for Netti for the pain, but he …’ She frowned and searched his face. ‘He was upset and …’

  ‘Confused?’ Dair offered the word to best describe his own experiences from the time he’d spent with Rory. The older man often muddled his thoughts between long ago and now and forgot what tasks he’d been attending.

  ‘Nae. Not at first. He was more agitated and unsettled and had trouble sitting and waiting while I prepared the potion. And then he seemed confused when he said he didn’t like fires.’ Keila caught her bottom lip with her teeth. ‘I should have walked him home, even though he didn’t want me to.’

  ‘He didn’t want your company?’ Rory’s refusal surprised Adair.

  ‘He said Netti didn’t want visitors, and I was worried for Moira for she wasn’t in the kitchen when I came insi—’

  ‘Have you seen her?’ Adair asked, surprised how concerned he was for the dragon’s wellbeing.

  ‘Aye, I’ve just come from her room. She’s still sleeping.’

  ‘Good.’ She was likely tired from the chase two days before. ‘Rory can’t have gone too long ago. I’ll ride over and check on him and Netti now.’ He pressed a quick kiss to her mouth and caught her natural scent of pine and green herbs, reminding him of what they’d shared earlier. ‘Don’t worry, Keila. I’m sure all is well. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’ He strode back out of the kitchen, thinking Demon was about to have the ride he’d promised sooner than expected.

  ***

  Keila tied the final knot in the front of her gown, and lifting the bowl of water she’d used to wash, she walked to the open window, peered below and tossed the contents onto the grass. As she straightened, she paused to rest her shoulder against the edge of the timber shutter and stared out into the early morn. Stared in the same direction she’d watched Adair ride off in to check on Rory only a short time ago. It seemed like forever.

  ‘Despite my warnings, you went and did it, didn’t you?’ Disappointment hardened Moira’s tone. Keila drew in a fortifying breath and slowly turned to have the conversation she knew she had to have. ‘You lay with him.’ Moira stood nodding near the top of the small staircase into Keila’s small chamber.

  Keila didn’t reply as it seemed her friend, the woman she’d recently worried over, had already come to the correct conclusion. But she did wonder if it was because she looked different now that she had lain with a man. With Adair. She clenched the bowl she held with one hand and lifted the other to rub her palm down one side of her face, and then let it drop to the opposite shoulder. Perhaps she moved differently. She dropped her hand to her side. The last thing she wanted to do was upset or disappoint Moira, but it was done, it had happened and if she could have the past night over again, she’d not change a thing. It was beautiful, both then and now. She’d had little sleep but was more awake, more alive than she’d ever been in her life. She and Adair had created wondrous memories together and Keila would cherish them always.

  ‘Where is he now?’

  Keila straightened away from the wall. ‘Adair has gone to check on Rory. He came for a potion for Netti’s pain, but he seemed agitated.’

  Moira held silent for two thudding heartbeats. ‘And now you have given Adair what he wanted, you think he will come back to you?’

  Keila lifted her chin. ‘I expect he will return to say goodbye.’ He had so much waiting for him elsewhere.

  ‘I have failed you,’ Moira said lowering her head. But only for a moment. ‘You do not know who he—’

  ‘And nor does he,’ Keila said cutting Moira’s words off. ‘The very reason he admitted had brought him to the Highlands in the first place. But I know enough, Moira.’ Keila didn’t want to hear anything negative right now, not when lying with Adair was new and beautiful and she wanted to savour what they’d shared.

  ‘Now you likely want to marry him.’

  Keila pressed her lips tightly together. ‘I have chosen to never marry, as you well know. But why should I miss out on experiencing certain pleasures with a man?’ She searched her friend’s face. ‘I understand you were hurt, Moira, and appreciate your guidance and protection over the years, but Adair is the perfect man for me to quench my curiosity. He will not want to marry me.’ She ignored the sudd
en heavy feeling inside her chest. ‘Until he learns who he is, he will wed nae one. He said as much. And he will not remain here. He has great friends, lifelong friends he misses.’ She swallowed hard. ‘He will return to the Borders and we will go on as we have always done.’

  ‘Ah, lass. Is that what you truly believe?’

  Keila saw the pity in Moira’s eyes and ignored it. ‘Aye.’

  ‘And is that what you truly want?’

  She would not give up her home. She straightened and pressed her palm against the wall. Drummin House was something solid she could see and touch. People left. People died and left others like her alone. ‘It is what will be.’

  Chapter 16

  Demon broke into full stride the instant Adair gave him his head. It wasn’t long before Dair’s gaze fell on the thatched roof of the wattle and daub cottage he knew belonged to Rory and his wife. Keila’s concern for the older couple was touching, and he wondered if she’d ever worry over him with the same intensity.

  The kiss he’d pressed against her mouth before he’d gone to the stable to saddle his horse had been far too quick compared to the one this morn when she’d woken nestled against his side. He’d had to kiss her. He’d had no choice. Lured by her gentle smiling lips as she’d discovered precisely where she’d slept and where she still lay. On the earthen floor, in her ale shed, in his arms. An image he’d never forget.

  His mount’s ears flickered, alerting Dair that they were no longer alone. He scanned the surrounding landscape, a task easily done as the land was flat here and the grasses were no higher than the boots of the familiar figure strolling away from where the River Livet meandered close by the cottage.

  Rory carried a pail of water in each hand and his slow pace slowed a fraction more and then increased a little as he called, ‘Is that ye, Mac?’

  It was odd to hear the temporary name Rory had given him now that he’d gone by his own for the past two days. Dair drew closer and dismounted, dropping the reins. ‘Aye, Rory, it’s me, but my name’s Adair.’

  ‘Ah, lad, so it came back to ye?’

  ‘Aye, just as you said it would.’ He smiled at the older man and reached for both pails. ‘Here, let me?’

  Determined to keep one, Rory only released the other. ‘I’m glad to hear it. And how are both the lasses?’ They walked side by side with Demon trailing close behind.

  ‘They’re both well, but what of Netti? Keila tells me she’s in pain.’

  ‘Aye, she takes a potion every morn and night, but there was nae more left and I had to fetch some more from Keila. Some days are worse than others and the pain’s getting worse with the passing of time.’ He slowly shook his head. ‘My bones ache more with the passing of each day, but at least I still get about. Poor Netti hasn’t been able to walk for more than twenty years and her legs still keep her awake at night. I left her to bathe them with the last of the water I set to heat. God willing, she’ll be asleep by the time I return.’

  Adair looked to where Rory walked beside him, surprised the older man remembered fetching the potion and touched by how much he cared for his wife. This was how Keila should be cared for. ‘She is fortunate to have you, Rory.’

  ‘Nae, lad.’ Rory stopped and lowered his pail to the ground. Straightening, he stretched and sighed. ‘I’m the fortunate one. I’d be lost without her.’

  A small smile lifted Rory’s lips and crinkled the weathered skin on the outer side of his grey eyes. This is what Dair wanted. This is what he wanted to share with Keila. Lachlan and Kenzie shared it, as did Lundy and Ailsa. He’d lain with many women but he’d never wanted more than to enjoy their company and their bed. Keila was different. He wanted to share her life. Forever.

  He stared at Rory as a tingling sensation ignited in his chest and swept throughout the rest of his body. How could he even suggest such a thing when he still didn’t know who he was or where he’d come from?

  He clenched his hand about the pail’s rope handle to ward off the tingling that reached his fingertips. They resumed walking and Adair looked ahead, lest Rory see the yearning on his face that seemed to grow with every breath.

  ‘’Tis a good thing you returned early from market.’

  Adair threw a surprised glance at the older man before peering ahead at the cottage. Rory remembered fetching the potion and he knew they were back from market earlier than expected. Had Keila’s concerns for Rory been misplaced? ‘Their sales were poor, so they decided to return home.’ Dair softened the reasons for their early return and didn’t mention the attack. He didn’t want to upset or have the older man worry over things he couldn’t change when he had enough concerns of his own already. He’d leave the telling to Keila.

  ‘’Tis sorry I am to hear, but I’m sore happy ye were gone from Mortlach before the fires.’

  ‘You know about the fires?’

  ‘There were three spots aglow in Mortlach’s direction two nights passed. None had to do with the stars and the like.’

  Adair looked at Rory, who appeared to have lost some of the colour in his weathered face. ‘We were fortunate to have already left for Drummin.’

  ‘Aye, fortunate. Fire is punishing. Fire and death.’ Rory nodded several times, looking as if he were lost in his own thoughts, before suddenly looking up at Adair. ‘And ye’ve recalled yer name, lad.’

  Adair took a moment to adjust to Rory’s swift change of topic. ‘Aye. My name is Adair, but you can call me Dair.’ He smiled at Rory, pleased to see the colour had returned to his face with the change in conversation. ‘I’ve come from the Borders to travel the Highlands, hoping to find out who I am.’

  ‘Ye ken yer name, but don’t ken who ye are?’ Rory said, halting and squinting his curiosity. A thoughtful expression altered the lines creasing the older man’s face. Dair stopped, and certain his expression now showed none of the unfamiliar yearning he’d recently experienced, allowed Rory to look his fill. ‘Ye look different without your bruises and swelling.’

  Dair chuckled. ‘I hope I look less the barbarian.’

  ‘Hmm! I’m nae certain ye do when ye have the look of the earl about ye.’ Dair frowned at Rory’s odd remark. ‘God’s mercy, more so now when ye look like that.’

  Adair stilled and in that moment the world stopped and fell silent. The thud of his heart boomed inside his chest and life resumed. ‘Who is the earl, Rory?’ Adair didn’t recognise his own voice. He stared at the older man while his heart raced and the tingling sensation swept through him once more.

  Never had anyone referred to his looks before, not in relation to him looking like another. He reminded himself to breathe while he waited, silently willing Rory to hurry and speak.

  ‘The Earl of Buchan,’ Rory finally said, still searching Dair’s face as if seeing him for the first time. ‘Alexander Stewart is the Earl of Buchan. Alasdair Mor mac an Righ, Great Alexander, son of the King.’

  Dair stared at Rory, his blood pounding in his ears so hard he thought he’d misheard. Was his father the son of a king? Could he be the son of an earl? Reaching out, he grasped Rory’s arm. ‘Rory, where does the earl reside?’

  A look of confusion claimed Rory’s face. ‘His stronghold was Lochindorb Castle, but I’d heard he’d gone south to Atholl.’

  Adair’s heartbeat pounded in his neck. He’d always hoped he was someone of import, and the not knowing had been the hardest to bear. But to be related to the king … ‘Which is closer, Lochindorb or Atholl?’

  ‘Lochindorb lies west and is only a day’s walk from here.’

  Only a day’s walk, less to ride. ‘Rory, I need a favour. I have to go to Lochindorb, but I need to let Keila know where I’ve gone.’

  ‘Mac—’

  Dair frowned at Rory. ‘My name is Adair.’ He grasped the pail Rory carried and strode the short distance to the front of the cottage. ‘When you visit Keila, tell her I’ve gone to Lochindorb in search of my father.’ He set both pails of water beside the entrance and turned to find Rory looking at him in
confusion. ‘Never mind, I’ll tell her myself.’ He strode forward and pulled the older man against him in a tight hug. ‘My thanks, Rory.’ Adair stepped back and saw a strange expression on Rory’s face. ‘Are you sure you’re well?’

  Rory frowned and swallowed. ‘Aye, lad.’

  ‘Good.’ With a grin, Dair mounted. ‘I’ll speak to you when I return.’

  Rory lifted one hand in farewell and Dair wheeled Demon about.

  To think he might be the son of an earl. A bark of laughter slipped free as Adair rode back to Drummin House. What would Keila think of the possibility that his father was an earl? But what if he wasn’t? He’d tell her there was somewhere he needed to go, but would withhold exactly where and who he was going to see. He gave Demon his head as a wide grin almost split his face.

  ***

  Keila fed Nettle the last carrot and glided her hand along the side of the horse’s head. After their conversation above stairs, she’d escaped to the stable, leaving Moira and her troubled expression in the kitchens. Moira said she’d failed Keila, but the more she replayed their words over in her mind, any failure was hers.

  Not in what she’d shared with Adair. Lying with him, giving part of herself to him and sharing the wonder of making love, with him, was the most beautiful thing she had ever done. But she had failed Moira and herself. She’d lied. To Moira and to herself. Keila didn’t want Adair to return to the Borders. She wanted him—

  Thundering hoof beats sounded. Was Adair back from seeing Rory already? Wiping her palm down over her gown, she smiled at Mist and Nettle and dashed outside. The dark brown horse was pulled to a sudden halt mere feet away from where she emerged from the coolness of the stable. Feeling breathless, she lifted her hand to shade her eyes from the sun’s bright morning light and waited for her gaze to adjust to the sight of Adair’s heart-quickening smile.

  But the mouth that slowly curled up at the corners did not belong to Adair. And neither did the onyx eyes staring down at her from atop his horse.

  ‘Well, that’s a greeting I’d welcome every day.’