“Nay,” he said, still so serious. “He fosters with Sir Adam Dayne, who was once a ward of Sara’s late father. They say his wife, Cora, is as skilled as any man, mayhap more so, with the longbow.”
Allie’s eyes widened. “Truly?”
“Aye,” he said. “Truly.”
Allie had never seen a woman shoot a longbow before. How did she have the strength to manage such a feat?
“Why?” The question came out before she could help herself.
Reid shrugged. “Likely for the same reason you yourself wield that sword.”
He didn’t ask, and she did not offer an explanation. At times she thought herself silly for standing here holding a sword and pretending to fight. She wasn’t ready to put words to the urge that sent her out here day after day, but she did have a question of her own.
“I meant, why would you say that last eve?”
Again, silence. Finally, he sighed and said, “To push you away.”
Allie had not been expecting that.
“Why,” she asked, aware of the dangers of such a conversation, “do you wish to push me away?”
“I—” Reid suddenly looked up to the sky, as if such a thing were necessary, to confirm what Allie had long since suspected. It was going to rain at any moment.
“We should go,” he said, looking back at her.
Too late. The sky opened up so quickly, there was little time to consider their options for shelter. They could climb the hill back toward the keep, be soaked for the efforts, or . . .
An abandoned dovecote stood between the castle and the clearing, just on the other side of the thicket of trees.
She ran, not looking back to see if he was following.
* * *
Reid leaned past her, reaching forward to open the cracked wooden door. Once they were both inside, he looked around with interest. The circular stone structure was still structurally sound, though it clearly had not been used in some time. Hundreds of nesting holes stood empty.
“Why was this abandoned?” he asked.
Allie looked up, shaking her head. “I only know this was built away from the trees, away from birds of prey, and that it was once used to house doves.”
He’d assumed as much. They stood, wet and silent, listening to the steady rain outside.
“As soon as it slows down, we’ll return to the keep,” Allie said, watching him. “So?” she pressed.
She was waiting for him to finish answering her question.
“I thought perhaps you’d forgotten,” he said.
Though she didn’t smile, exactly, Allie’s lips turned up ever so slightly. She reached back to grab the length of her wet hair and pulled it over her shoulder. Reid watched, mesmerized, as she braided it. Her wet linen shirt clung to every curve now, as snug and revealing as the leggings underneath.
“And I thought perhaps you were being sincere?” she said, noticing his
perusal.
He looked into her accusatory eyes. “Is it not possible that I am both sincere and appreciative?”
She rolled her eyes. “You are incorrigible.”
“I pushed you away because this is dangerous.”
“This?”
“Aye.” He gestured to the space between them. “This.”
When she pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, biting down gently, Reid should have wanted to bite that same lip and then taste it with his tongue. With any other woman, it would have been the only thought on his mind.
Instead, he found himself wondering about other things. What did she cherish most? How long did she intend to stay here in Scotland? Would she wish to stay?
God’s blood, Reid.
“Do you miss your home?” he blurted, attempting to steer his thoughts away from such ruminations. As he awaited her answer, he leaned back against the cold stone wall, putting necessary distance between them.
Allie appeared startled by the abrupt change in topic. “I . . .”
That lip again.
“I do, at times. I miss the people, mostly.”
He should not care if Lady Allie wanted to go back.
“But Scotland is my home now.”
Pride, joy, relief flooded his senses. He longed to reach for her, but he dug his fingers into the stones behind him instead.
“You said this is dangerous? How so?” she asked, clearly not understanding.
He could easily show her, though he should not. And yet . . . he’d never had much self-control. Ignoring the warnings of his inner voice, he closed the distance between them.
“Because I’m going to kiss you.”
He’d never uttered such a warning in his life. But this was different.
She was different.
When his hand touched her cheek, Reid nearly pulled back. What he was about to do was irreversible. This was no simple kiss, and he knew it. But the look she gave him . . . it was his undoing. He moved closer, closing the space between them.
He ran his thumb along the smooth curve of her bottom lip toward the corner of her mouth. He tugged ever so gently, and when her lips parted for him, Reid leaned close and pressed his own lips against those full, pink curves.
Sweet. Soft. Untried.
He tugged his thumb a bit more, using his tongue to show her how to open for him. When she did, Reid groaned, deepening the kiss. He willed her tongue to meet his and cursed himself when it did. She’d accused him of being incorrigible, and she was right.
Reid could never have such a woman, and yet he continued.
Moving his hand from her cheek to the nape of her neck, Reid tugged her closer, until he could feel the press of her breasts against his chest—until he hardened past the point of logical thought. Could she feel his need against her or was she too innocent to understand?
Very much an innocent.
Graeme had said that about her. He’d best remember it.
Reid pulled himself away, resisting the siren’s call of her lips, now swollen from his kiss.
Every hair on his body stood on end. As rain pounded the roof above them, Reid closed his eyes and pulled her into his arms. Allie wrapped her hands around his back. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of roses mixed with something else. Cloves, nutmeg? He’d never smelled such a scent before.
He’d never held a woman like this before.
How long they stood there, Reid could not be sure. But as the rain slowed, their time together ending, he pulled away.
She looked confused. Understandably so.
“Dangerous,” he warned. “As I said.”
“And yet you did not push me away today.”
“I should have.” Reid forced himself to drop his hands and step away. “I’m not the man for you, Allie.”
She lifted her chin in defiance. “Then why did you kiss me?”
“Because I wanted to,” he said. God, he’d wanted that and so much more. He’d wanted things he had no right wanting.
“I came to apologize,” he continued, “but it seems I’ve only given myself more to apologize for.”
“No,” she said. “I will not accept that second apology. We’ve done nothing wrong here.”
He laughed, the sound hollow to his own ears. “Nothing wrong? You are unmarried—”
“Would it be more acceptable if I were?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
“The sister of my host—”
“And a willing participant.”
“This was a mistake.” Reid turned to leave. “I will tell Aidan you are down here,” he said in an attempt to ensure her safety. He did not like the thought of leaving her out here alone, but they couldn’t be seen walking back toward the keep together.
He grabbed the iron handle on the door and pulled. Just when he was about to step outside, Allie’s voice stopped him.
“I will meet you tomorrow, before the sun sets.”
He turned and wished he had not. “Nay, Allie. I cannot—”
“You offered to train me,” she said, neither he
r voice nor expression offering any hint of her feelings. It seemed she had taken his previous day’s lesson to heart, much to his current discomfort.
“That was before—”
“You offered, and I accepted. Do you always break your agreements so easily?”
No, he did not. “Very well,” he said. “We will meet tomorrow. To train.”
When she smiled, Reid knew he had already lost his uncharacteristic battle with self-control. Nay, he’d lost it well before he’d agreed to meet her again. The question was, could Allie help him be found?
9
“How can Graeme pretend all is well?” Allie asked.
She stood with Gillian in the great hall, the meal having long since concluded. An uninformed visitor to Highgate End might comment on the way the trestle tables had been moved to the sides of the room, as they were after each meal, providing a space for socializing and dancing. Or maybe they would admire the music or the array of different colors. With so many guests, it felt as if every color were represented. Allie herself wore a dark lilac gown with two gold clasps and a cream-patterned surcoat.
What an uninformed visitor likely would not notice were the undercurrents that had been brewing since the Lord Warden’s arrival two days prior. According to Reid, the meetings had continued to be fractious. The warden had not settled matters as they’d hoped.
Careful not to glance her trainer’s way, Allie looked to her sister for an answer.
“He is quite good at hosting.”
Allie followed Gillian’s gaze to her husband, who stood in the center of a group of men that included Douglas. Calm prevailed at the moment, an impressive accomplishment considering what she’d heard about the proceedings.
“Aye,” she agreed, “as are you, Gill.”
And she meant it. Hosting over fifty guests for nigh a fortnight was no small task, and their mother had never shown much of an interest in training either of them to run a household. “I am so happy for you,” she continued. “Who could have imagined a kiss in Kenshire’s garden would have led to this.”
“Allie, shhh.” Gillian’s tone was light despite her admonition.
When the musicians began a lilting ballad, Allie stopped teasing her sister to listen. The lyrics were about Thomas the Rhymer. “Isn’t he the one who was carried off by the Queen of Elfland and returned with the gift of prophecy?”
Gillian squinted as if it would help her listen. The hall had quieted considerably, but the gathering was large enough, and loud enough, that it was difficult to hear each word. “I believe so.”
They did not talk for the remainder of the ballad, and when it was finished, Allie joined in the applause. When the flutist next to the singer began to play the next song, the few women in attendance began to pair with their husbands. As the only unmarried noblewoman in attendance, Allie expected she would be asked to dance, just as she had been the two previous evenings.
“Why the frown?” Gillian asked. “You’ve always enjoyed dancing.”
Allie looked into her sister’s eyes. She wished she could confide in her as she’d always done in the past, but Gillian would certainly not sympathize with her problem. In fact, she would be very happy to learn that her suspicions about Reid had come to naught.
Despite the connection they’d shared that day in the dovecote, Reid had mostly ignored her. He no longer looked her way at meals, and though he had continued to train her, he’d spoken of nothing beyond her stance and her longsword.
“Aye, and I still do. Just not this eve.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
Both she and Allie spun around to find Reid watching them intently. Where had he come from?
“I would ask for this dance.” His eyes narrowed as if he expected her to decline.
She was not surprised by her body’s response, the warmth that flooded her a further testament that, as much as she claimed to dislike Reid Kerr, there was a part of her that did not. When they’d first met, she would have focused on his slight smirk and the arrogant way he wore his good looks. Now, she saw beyond it, into eyes that pleaded for her to accept.
“A shame,” Gillian said, her voice cool. Unwelcoming. “My sister—”
“Would be pleased to dance,” she said, risking her sister’s ire.
Gill gave her a look that required no interpretation, but Allie took his arm anyway, attempting to ignore the fire that ignited in her gut and spread to every limb of her body.
He spun her toward the middle of the dancers, away from her sister’s watchful eyes. “Why do you do that?” she asked.
“Do what?”
Allie raised her brows. “Attempt to make others dislike you so.”
“Others? You mean your sister? I can assure you, she disliked me well enough before today.”
“You don’t care?”
His mask was firmly in place once more. “Her opinions are her own.”
That was hardly an answer to her question.
They swayed to the music, back and forth across the newly replaced rushes. The great hall had never looked as spectacular as it did tonight, and even though the reason for the gathering was anything but joyous, Scots seemed to welcome any cause to eat, drink, and dance. It was one of the things she loved most about her new home.
“I was taken aback that you asked me to dance.”
When she looked up, Allie caught Reid gazing at her lips. It was the first time he’d looked at her like this since their afternoon in the dovecote.
“A moment of weakness,” he answered.
Allie pretended not to understand. “Weakness? A dance? Surely a man who can handle the longsword like you has very few weaknesses.”
Though she teased him, Reid did not smile. The tick in his jaw made her want to reach up and smooth it away, feel his skin beneath her fingertips.
“As it happens, I do.”
He spoke of her.
“Then why pretend otherwise these last two days?”
Much to their mother’s chagrin and their father’s disappointment, Allie had never excelled at playing the part of a compliant young lady. Everyone around her knew her thoughts nearly the same moment as she had them—and yet she had never said anything so bold before.
He spun her around, and unfortunately, Allie met her sister’s gaze when he did. Gillian was talking furiously to Graeme, and they were both watching them dance.
“My sister and Graeme are watching,” she whispered.
Reid did not look their way. Instead, he spun her once again, surprising her with his dancing skills. “The precise reason why I’ve ‘pretended otherwise,’ as you say.”
“I don’t believe you.”
The song was coming to an end much too soon.
“We’ve been alone on a few occasions—”
“Allie.” He spoke so softly she had to watch his lips to be sure he’d spoken. “You don’t understand. You don’t know me. I am—”
When he stopped, Allie finished for him. “More than you present to the world.”
His eyes widened, the mask dropping again. She’d managed to surprise him.
“Pardon me,” a voice cut in.
Aidan.
“If I may?”
The song had ended and another had begun. Aidan’s outstretched hand waited for her to take it, which of course she was forced to do. It didn’t matter that she was not ready.
“Of course,” Reid said, handing her over. “I trust in your ability to entertain the lady.”
With that, he turned and walked away. She watched as he left the hall, his habitual arrogance wrapping around him again like a well-worn cloak.
“Is all well?”
Nay, it was not, but she forced a smile.
“Aye, Aidan. All is well.”
* * *
“The great Reid Kerr, standing in the shadows.”
Reid watched Douglas approach, knowing there was nothing he could do to dissuade the man. He should have left the hall, but he’d made a crucial mistake.
Before exiting, he’d turned back to take one last glance at the woman who had so thoroughly entranced him. Now he could not bring himself to retire. Instead, he tormented himself by watching her banter so easily with Aidan de Sowlis.
“Always,” he said, accepting the mug of ale Douglas offered.
“You were quiet today.”
“I made my clan’s position clear.”
“Reid.” Douglas took a swig of ale. “If we do not accept Caxton’s appointment—”
“We will never have peace with that man as the English warden,” Reid said, watching as Aidan leaned much too close to Allie.
Douglas sighed. “I dislike the appointment as much as you do, but until we have just cause to appeal to the English king—”
“And if he frees the reivers who attempted to kill my brother? It would be chaos, and you know it.” Reid respected the man, as did his brothers, but in this they could not agree.
“I told you, the king knows of the attack on your brother, and he has demanded that we do nothing aside from bringing them to trial at the next Day of Truce. What can we do without the support of our own sovereign?”
“Forgive me, Douglas, if I’ve lost faith in a system that has set more than one murderer free in the past months. The stakes for Clan Kerr are high.”
He risked the warden’s ire, but Toren and Reid agreed on this . . . their position would remain firm. Aye, they wanted peace. The Day of Truce had served both countries well for more than thirty years. But the tide was turning, and too many guilty parties had been set free even before Caxton’s appointment.
“Your family’s alliance with the Waryns—”
“More than an alliance,” Reid said. “They are family now.”
Douglas grunted. “And yet you talk of a border war.”
“Nay, not war—”
“What do you think will happen if we countermand our own king? If we break the Day of Truce?”
Finally, the song was over. Douglas kept talking, but Allie had grabbed his attention once more. Her eyes had shifted from her dancing partner and were darting all around the hall.
Could she be looking for him?
The Rogue’s Redemption Page 6