The Rogue

by Allison Butler

  Naught looked familiar. He noted the stronghold’s defences were at the ready if needed, but were at present minimal, likely due to the difficult process of getting to the island in the first place.

  They reached the upper end of the road and the guard led him into a two storey building and up the inner stairs. On the long and wide landing above, Adair’s escort waved him to a bench seat. ‘Wait here.’

  Dair did, but he didn’t take a seat. Instead he paced, silently telling himself to be calm, his clenched jaw only clenching tighter.

  ‘You wish an audience with the Earl of Buchan?’

  Adair spun on his heel at the voice speaking from behind, and watched a stocky man of middle years with a half-circle of hair only covering the lower portion of his head enter the hall through the door the guard had disappeared through. ‘I do.’

  Ever so slowly, the man’s expression altered, taking on a look of wonder and then momentary surprise, but not for long. ‘That is all.’ He dismissed the guard, but his gaze didn’t move from Adair’s face. ‘I am the steward of Lochindorb Castle. I’d have your name and what your business with the earl is about?’

  ‘My name is Adair and I come from the Borders.’ Dair straightened and looked the steward directly in the eye. ‘As to my business, the look on your face tells me you know exactly why I’ve come.’

  ***

  Adair had no clue as to how long he waited after the steward left, but as hard as he’d tried, he’d not been able to sit or stand in one place for long. He’d paced the length of the waiting area too many times to count, the distant sound of doors closing playing havoc with his churning stomach. The need to clear his throat repeatedly, despite not saying a word, became annoying.

  The shadows in the chamber lengthened and deepened and his concerns shifted to Demon and the lad left with his care. Could he leave and return tomorrow? Would the man who just might be his father welcome him the morn if he left now?

  His pacing quickened. His jaw ached. He’d never wanted anything more than to know where he’d come from. During his year of leave to search the Highlands, he’d never truly believed he’d discover even a skerrick of information about his origins. And while the thought that his father might be an earl filled him with enough pride to swell his chest, at this moment it was only a possibility, while his horse was something definite and mattered and was already his.

  Turning on his heel, he headed for the stairs and had just reached them when the door the steward had disappeared through, for what seemed a lifetime ago, opened and the steward stepped into the Great Hall. But he wasn’t alone. A man younger than Lochindorb’s steward, but a year or two older than Adair, a man Dair had seen before, entered with him. Adair’s hands immediately curled into fists. What was Leith of Drummin doing at Lochindorb? And what business did he have with the Earl of Buchan?

  ‘The earl will see you now.’

  Dair tore his eyes from the man walking toward him and gave the steward a nod. He strode to where the steward waited for him as Leith headed passed him for the stairs. Leith smiled as he neared, a slow smile as if he knew something Adair didn’t. Adair did know Leith had asked Keila to marry him, but she’d refused his offer. One reason Adair didn’t like the man. He’d witnessed Leith ogling Keila at Drummin. Dair wished he still carried his weapons. And despite Keila paying Leith protection money, four masked men had attempted to ride Keila and Moira down. The cur couldn’t be trusted. All were worthy reasons to confront Leith now. Adair slowed his steps and made to turn.

  ‘The earl is a busy man,’ Lochindorb’s steward announced in a no-nonsense voice.

  The stairs creaked beneath Leith’s weight, but Adair forced his feet to continue forward. He’d discover precisely what Leith was doing here after he met the earl.

  The steward ushered him into a long narrow room, and with a firm knock on the first of three doors, he waited to hear, ‘enter,’ before showing Adair into a small private chamber.

  ‘Alexander Stewart, Earl of Buchan. Adair from the Borders.’

  Chapter 18

  Flames leapt and danced in the hearth to Adair’s left and the smell of age and camphor infused the air. Aware of the steward’s withdrawal from the stifling room, Dair focused on the figure positioned upright in the high-backed chair, tucked in close to the solid, dark-wood desk that was situated in front of the single shuttered window.

  A full head of hair, the colour of wheat, now boasted coarse grey strands throughout the shoulder-length mass, more so about the edges of the oval-shaped face above the forehead and around the ears. Thick brows sheltered eyes that appeared grey in hue, though the shadows and candlelight made the telling hard. A straight nose and high cheekbones led down to full lips surrounded by a thinning beard generously sprinkled silver.

  Adair’s gut clenched as his instinct told him this was his father. He’d seen similar features and details in his own face. The woollen mantle, secured by an ornate clasp at the throat, draped wide shoulders that looked to have shrunken with time. The fire and the thick cloak had nothing to do with his impression that the earl was a cold hard man.

  ‘Has anyone told you, you look like me?’ The earl’s tone rang deep with only a hint of a wheeze.

  ‘The very reason I have come to see for myself.’ What did the earl think now he’d seen Dair?

  ‘And now you have seen, what say you now?’

  The earl’s thoughts shadowed his. ‘I’d say it’s possible.’

  ‘If you’ve come to claim your rights as my son, what are you offering in return?’

  Dair willed his instant defensiveness not to show. ‘I’ve not come to claim anything.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I’m here to discover if you are indeed my father.’

  The grey eyes narrowed and hardened to flint. ‘Is your name Adair?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘And your mother’s name is Janet?’

  Dair stiffened at the sound of his mother’s name spoken in a flat tone. He nodded.

  ‘Bonny dark-haired blue-eyed Janet.’

  The image matched Adair’s memory of his mother smiling down at him, moments before she’d left him. Adair swallowed hard and witnessed the faraway look disappear from the earl’s eyes. ‘And you say you’re from the Borders?’

  Again Dair nodded and waited for the earl to ask precisely where in the Borders he lived.

  ‘I’ve always wondered where she escaped to,’ the earl said, his voice firmer as he slowly shook his head. Adair’s mouth dried and his hands curled into fists. Why had his mother needed to escape? Why had she then abandoned her own child? ‘And thanks to you, now I know.’

  Dair clenched and unclenched his hands and fought to keep his expression blank. But his mind continued to race and search for answers and his blood heated with every new revelation. His mother hadn’t stayed with him in the Borders. If she hadn’t returned here, where had she gone? Had the earl even tried to look for them?

  ‘And she didn’t even tell you I’m your father.’ The earl slowly shook his head again and studied Adair. ‘Many a lad dreams of having an earl, a brother to Scotland’s king as their father. Come sit, Adair, and tell me what I will gain if I did indeed claim you as my son.’

  Dair stared at the chair, but didn’t sit. Only a short amount of time had passed since he’d entered this room and met this man of great stature. A man who’d spoken true about lad’s dreaming of having an earl as their father. Dair had been such a lad, but he was now a man and he’d discovered such a dream wasn’t as grand when one found his earl lacking. He’d achieved what he’d come for. He now knew who his father was and he had a name. But this man wasn’t family, the Elliots were. He’d learned enough. It was time to leave.

  He looked at the man who’d sired him but failed to impress. ‘I have naught to offer.’

  A knowing smile lifted the earl’s mottled lips. ‘Ah, but you do, lad.’ The earl leaned forward and rested his arms on the desk. ‘I have it on good authority that you have formed an attachment
to a certain young woman named Keila Fearn.’

  Every muscle in Adair’s body hardened to stone at the sound of Keila’s name. It took every ounce of his will to fight the urge to lunge forward, grab the earl by the throat and drag him out of his seat. But the memory of Keila’s enchanting eyes as she smiled up at him, moments after she’d given herself to him, quieted his building rage and made sense of what he must do. He needed to find out what the Earl of Buchan had planned for the woman he loved.

  His heart froze, then pounded as his blood raced hot and swift through his veins. He loved Keila. But the cold grey eyes watching him closely from the other side of the desk reminded him now was not the time to dwell on what he felt for Keila. He needed to protect her from his father first.

  Adair dug deep into his well of mirth and found enough strength to force a smile. He slowly lowered himself into the chair. ‘Now I am ready to hear what you have to offer me in return.’

  ***

  When Adair finally emerged from the Earl of Buchan’s private chambers, he strode for the stairs and out into the bailey. He needed to escape this place and the calculating, dominating man who’d just offered him everything he wanted.

  The setting sun was casting its final fading golden rays over the top of the west wall, but nothing, not the dying heat the dipping orb exuded, nor even his excitement at the thought of returning to Keila could warm the small part of him left chilled after meeting his father. He headed for the iron gate that cranked open as he neared and the two armed men standing guard, bracing himself should they try to stop him from leaving.

  The guard who’d taken his sword and dagger returned them to him the moment he’d stepped through the open gate. With a stiff nod of thanks, he continued the short distance to where the boatman sat waiting in his vessel. He climbed aboard and was pleased they made the short journey across the loch before he’d fully settled on his seat.

  Adair alighted onto the mainland jetty and into the gloaming. The lad Wallis was nowhere in sight, but Demon stood beneath the shelter where Dair had left him, ears pinned back and pawing the ground. It wasn’t hard to see the cause of his horse’s discontent.

  A well-armed man sat a dark brown horse beyond the shelter and nearer to the line of trees. The mounted man didn’t notice Dair’s approach as his attention was fixed on something on his other side. He suddenly shifted in his saddle, his body turning in a half twist, and the unmistakable sound of a hand striking flesh was swiftly followed by a painful grunt and the sight of Wallis’s skinny arms and legs sprawling in the dirt.

  Adair clenched his jaw and quickened his steps as Demon snorted and shifted forward, as if he planned to step between the mounted man and the lad. ‘Easy Demon. I’ve got this,’ Dair said quietly.

  ‘Is there a problem?’ Dair asked, drawing even with the other horse’s head. Wallis blinked up at him from where he lay dazed on the ground.

  ‘Nae problem a good skelping willnae fix.’

  Dair frowned at the harshness in the mounted man’s familiar voice and looked up to find Leith of Drummin sneering down at the lad. Pain shot through Adair’s clenched jaw. He turned from Leith’s sudden glare. ‘Do you need a hand up, Wallis?’ The lad answered him with a swift frown and brisk shake of his head as he clambered to his feet.

  ‘I see you’ve met my whelp.’

  ‘Wallis is your son?’ Dair hid the instant pity for the lad from his expression.

  ‘One of many. Though this one killed his mother the day he was born and costs me more of my time for little reward.’

  For the second time this day, Dair suffered the urge to grab a man he didn’t care for by the throat. He clenched his hands and looked at the lad. Though their circumstances were different, he’d suffered the loss of his mother too. ‘Wallis has a gift with horses,’ Dair said in the lad’s defence.

  ‘Whatever earns coin is a gift, to my mind. Yet he earns me a pittance.’ He sneered at his son once more. ‘Wastes too much time admiring the beasts instead of collecting his due. A lesson I’ve just given, again.’ He released an exaggerated sigh. ‘And again he has taken my time away from important matters. I am …’ The instant Leith began his introduction, Adair stepped forward and made to secure his sword to Demon’s saddle. ‘Leith of Drummin Castle.’

  If Leith did offer his hand, Dair didn’t want to take it, knowing he’d satisfy his urge by pulling him from his perch and dropping him in the dirt. Having his sword in hand while suffering such an urge wasn’t a good idea either, so strapping it to his mount gave him something to do with his hands without openly declining the gesture. He couldn’t. Not when he was certain Wallis would suffer for the insult later. ‘I’m Adair from the Borders.’ He turned back in time to see Leith lower his hand, but kept his own busy by changing the position of where he’d sheathed his dagger at his waist.

  Leith peered down at him for some moments. ‘You and I have things in common, but now is nae the time to speak of them. Until we meet again.’ Without a word to his son, Leith wheeled his mount about and galloped off in the opposite direction to where Dair would be travelling. Good. It seemed he wasn’t returning to Drummin straight away.

  He watched him disappear from view. Leith had gained an audience with the Earl of Buchan only moments before him, and Dair had to wonder who else would be aware of his relationship with Keila. Precisely why Leith would then pass on his knowledge to the earl left Dair wondering what Leith of Drummin hoped to gain. Could Leith have something to do with Keila’s sudden request for Adair to leave? Had he been her unwelcome visitor?

  Dair reached for his dirk and returned it to its initial and most comfortable position at his hip. ‘How old are you, lad?’ He really wanted to ask if Wallis was alright, but he sensed a strength about the boy that told him Wallis wouldn’t appreciate being pitied.

  ‘I’m almost ten summers.’ Wallis’s sharp chin lifted as he stepped forward to stroke Demon’s neck. His spindly arms and legs, along with his gaunt features, made him look little more than seven summers. The swelling about his right eye had already begun to darken as the lad warily looked in the direction his father had ridden.

  Adair relaxed his clenched jaw. ‘Already a young man, then.’ Wallis looked up and gave him a single firm nod. ‘I’m off to Drummin House for a time, if you’re ever nearby. A beautiful lass named Keila Fearn lives there.’

  ‘Is she yer lady love?’

  Dair stared down at Wallis. He smiled. ‘Aye, she is my lady and aye, I love her.’ Speaking his feelings aloud only sharpened the ache her dismissal had caused.

  ‘Are ye going to wed her?’

  The ache inside his chest flared stronger. For a time he’d foolishly believed if he was the son of an earl Keila would marry him. But now he’d met the earl and discovered what the man wanted in return for claiming Adair as his son … ‘I don’t know, lad. I have a few things to sort out before I even ask her.’ An image of Moira suddenly filled his head. ‘And there’s also a dragon I need to tame first,’ he said with a wink.

  Wallis grinned up at him and a fist clenched about Dair’s heart. ‘Are you sure you won’t come and help me slay the dragon, Sir Wallis?’

  The lad’s grin slipped a mite. ‘I’d like to, Sir Adair, but my father … And the horses need me.’ His young gaze searched his surroundings once more before returning to meet Adair’s.

  ‘Aye, they do, lad, but know I am here for you if you need me.’ Dair strode around to the other side of his horse, placing Demon between the tower guards and Wallis. ‘My thanks for your good care of Demon.’ He held out a small leather purse of coins.

  Wallis stared at the offering and looked up at Adair. ‘Ye already paid yer due.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I’d rather ye spend it on yer lady than line my sire’s already fat purse.’

  Adair stared down at the lad. ‘Any man would be fortunate to call you son, Wallis. If you’ll nae accept extra coin, then at least take this.’ Dair opened his palm to show the dirk he’d recently settled at his hip. ‘
Every man has the right to protect himself.’

  Wallis reached out a scrawny hand and took the blade. ‘Thank ye.’

  ‘I’d best be on my way, then.’ Wallis gave Demon a final pat and stepped back. ‘I’m certain we’ll meet again, lad.’

  ‘I heard the earl is leaving for Perth the morn and likely won’t return.’

  The steward had told him the same thing. ‘I appreciate the information.’ Dair mounted and looked down at the lad. ‘Take care of yourself, Sir Wallis.’

  ‘I will, Sir Adair. And good luck with yer lady love.’

  Wallis’s wide grin was the last he saw of the lad as he rode off into the darkness. Night had fully settled but he refused to wait until the morn to head back to Drummin House. He needed to see Keila, to ensure she was safe and well. The desire to tell her he loved her burned like a white-hot flame on his tongue and wouldn’t allow him to rest or to wait for daylight. He had to see her now.

  Chapter 19

  ‘Are you planning on baking all night?’

  Keila looked up to find a sleepy-eyed Moira standing in the doorway leading to the sitting room, holding a flickering candle. ‘I can’t sleep. I hope I didn’t wake you.’

  ‘You didn’t wake me, lass, but I suggest you find yourself another task to keep you busy. You’ve baked enough loaves to feed every clan in the Highlands.’

  Keila’s fingers curled into the newest batch of dough she was making and clenched, sending the gooey mass oozing between her fingers as her gaze touched on the upturned loaves crowding the far end of the table. ‘I’ll make this lot the last.’ She separated the mix and pressed it into the loaf tins.