“A fact I shall allow you to prove tomorrow. In the meantime, I suppose a bedroll will do.” Alex clasped him on the back. “The floor for you then. ’Tis good to see you.”
“And you,” he said, not looking forward to the reckoning there would be once the lord and lady of Highgate spoke to Alex about Allie.
But he was ready for it. For Allie, he would go through hell and back.
* * *
“What the hell is wrong with you, Reid?”
Alex ignored the stares of those around them. They’d just finished a course of spiced fowl, and servants scurried throughout the hall carrying jugs of wine and ale. Highgate’s cellarer and larderer spoke to the steward not far from them while the men at their table ate and drank in celebration. All knew, or at least hoped, their time at Highgate was nearing an end, and though the road ahead was fraught with dangers, for the first time since they’d arrived, a feeling of hopefulness prevailed.
Graeme had unfortunately spoken to Alex earlier, and while he’d not mentioned Allie, his brother had sensed something was wrong.
So Reid had told him everything.
“Wrong?” he asked. “Were you not listening, brother? I’ve done nothing to Lady Gillian.” He lowered his voice. “Certainly not enough to warrant her continued ire.”
Alex folded his arms.
Reid hated that look. He’d been receiving it since he was a child from both Alex and Toren.
“Perhaps I should not have agreed to train Allie,” he did admit.
When Alex cleared his throat, Alex picked up his mug and finished the ale inside. Raising his mug for more, he waited until it was filled, and drank again.
Still, Alex said nothing.
“And I may have waited to show Allie such carnal pleasures as—”
“Reid, these are our hosts.”
His brother’s tone set Reid on edge. He drank again, and this time, he did not attempt to make excuses.
When the man next to Alex leaned over and raised his mug for a toast, Alex complied. Their discussion ceased, thankfully, until the meal was over. Alex nodded toward the hall’s entrance. And with a final glance at Allie, whom he’d indulged himself in looking at throughout the meal despite Alex’s repeated warnings, he followed his brother out.
“Not here.”
This was precisely why he’d not mentioned it earlier.
As they descended the stairs to the ground floor, Alex’s expression turned increasingly grim. The moment they were outside the castle doors, his brother turned on him. “You taunt our hosts, threaten our alliance with de Sowlis, and smile about both,” he said.
Darkness had descended, and the courtyard was mostly empty.
“I did nothing, brother, you and Toren did not do before me. I care for her.”
I love her.
He started to walk away from the keep, but Alex followed him. “You’ve been warned away in no uncertain terms.”
“And if you had been warned away from Clara? By anyone other than the lady herself? You would have done what? Given up?” He did not back down despite the tick in his brother’s jaw.
“I would not have tossed decorum in the face of my hosts. And if you’d heeded such tenets of common courtesy, Lady Gillian would not have such strong feeling against you.”
“I apologize,” he said. His tone was becoming belligerent, but he found he didn’t much care. “If only I were as perfect as you, Lady Gillian would have fallen at my feet.”
“Reid, this is not about me.”
“No, this is about us. Would it have been so difficult for you to be happy for me? Glad that I found someone who makes me better than I am?”
“I am happy for you,” Alex said, pulling him to a stop. “But you have to be smarter about how—”
“Like you. What you mean to say is that I should be more like you.” He loved his brother, hated fighting with him. But he said the words anyway.
“Calm down, Reid.”
Words assured to make him anything but calm.
“Why are you here, Alex?” he snapped. “Tell me the real reason.” His hands shook at his sides as rage built up within him.
Alex ground his teeth together, his jaw tightening. Reid had managed to shake his brother’s composure. Good.
“Say it, Alex. Say it,” he taunted.
“Reid—”
“You are here because you don’t trust me.”
“That is not true.”
“Or at least because you think you represent Clan Kerr better than I do.”
Alex clenched his own fists. Sometimes Reid wished his brother would strike out and hit him. In a strange way, he thought it would make him feel better. At least he’d know he wasn’t the only Kerr totally incapable of self-control.
“You go too far, brother.”
No, he hadn’t. Not yet.
“Go home, Alex. Go back to Dunmure Tower.”
Some of the fight went out of Alex, replaced with a very different emotion. He’d hurt his brother.
Good.
“Words spew from your mouth,” Alex ground out, “and you don’t care who you hurt with them.”
And his brother had said he was the one whose words sliced? “You are right,” he said, lowering his voice. “I don’t care.”
With that, he pushed past his brother and strode back toward the castle.
Allie and her sister stood just outside the door. They looked at him in mute shock, their eyes wide. So they’d heard it all.
“Allie—”
“No,” she said. “Not now.”
Gillian looked every bit as cold and judgmental as she always did when he was around.
He had to get out of there.
Rather than go inside, Reid turned back around, ignoring his brother, and walked away from Alex. Away from Gillian.
Away from Highgate End and the only woman who had ever looked at him with the kind of respect Allie did.
Until now.
16
“Don’t say it.”
After Reid and his brother left, Allie wanted to fall into the well in the center of the courtyard. Facing her sister after what they’d heard . . . it was nearly as difficult as watching Reid walk away without stopping him.
“I said nary a word.”
A servant opened the great wooden doors, and sounds from the revelry upstairs filtered down to them.
“You should get back—”
“Talk to me, Allie.”
You are right. I don’t care. Reid’s words still echoed in her ears.
“He was angry—”
“Nay, Allie. That’s who he is. Of all the men in Scotland, or England, you would choose one who acts that way?”
Allie didn’t know what to think. Deep inside, she knew Reid had spoken to Alex that way out of anger. And yet . . .
“You brought me here to speak to him.” Gillian took both of her hands. “And I came. But you will not convince me that my sister . . . my wonderful, adventurous, sweet sister . . . should wed a man who speaks in such a way to someone he loves.”
Her shoulders tingled with the compliment despite the words that came after it.
“You are in pain,” Gillian said, reaching out to touch her cheek. “I see it. I see the way you look at him.”
She attempted a smile. “I thought I’d hidden it well.”
Gillian’s sad smile made her feel even worse. “You forget, I’ve been sitting at meals with you for over twenty years.”
“Even when I was a baby?” she jested.
Gillian wrapped her arms around her. “Aye, even as a baby,” she whispered in her ear. “Mother and I would argue about it, in fact. I could not bear to put you down. Ever.”
She pulled back and looked into her sister’s eyes.
“I have a confession,” Gillian said.
Her very proper sister, a confession?
“I knew—” Gillian took her by the hand and led her away from the keep. They walked the length of the courtyard. “—about you
r training.”
Allie froze. “You—”
“I knew you left the keep before sunset most days, after the men had vacated the outer training yard. So I followed you one day. What I still don’t understand is why. And why did you keep it from me?”
She wasn’t sure she could explain, so she ignored the questions and asked one of her own. “When you found me with Reid . . . you seemed surprised.”
“To find you with him, aye.”
They walked up the same stairs Allie had been ascending that night, the one Reid had called her down. The night they’d pledged themselves to each other. The memory was almost too much to bear.
“I could not believe my sister had fallen in love with such a man,” she said as they reached the wall-walk.
Gillian said it so quietly, it took a moment for her words to pierce the thick fog that seemed to surround Allie’s brain. It was true, of course. Though Allie had never been in love before, Reid consumed her every thought. When she was with him, her body screamed and her mind muddled with the desire to feel him next to her. She wanted to know everything about him, be with him always.
“How did you know?”
They peered out into the darkness. Moonlight and light from a few nearby torches allowed them to see into the outer courtyard but not much beyond it.
“As I said, Allie. I know you perhaps as well as you know yourself. Which is why I am so surprised you’re attracted to such a man.”
“Gill, please understand—”
“I’m sorry. I cannot.”
When she looked at her sister, Allie’s chest felt as if someone were trampling it. “Please—”
“I will always, always do what is best for you. And I do not believe Reid Kerr is that.” Gillian paused, then added, “I would ask something of you.”
Allie already knew she would not like this.
Gillian heaved a sigh. “I know you will not heed my advice if I ask for you to forget him. All I am asking is that you do not do anything rash.”
“But I—”
“Please. Just do not give yourself to him, or marry him . . . a man you hardly know. Allow some time to pass first. Be sure of your feelings.”
Hope soared through her.
“And if I do give it time? You will accept him?”
“I cannot wish for you to share your life with such a man. I ask you to do this only because if you wait, I believe you will see what I do. That there are other men, like Graeme and Aidan—”
Allie hated being angry at her sister, but the bargain hardly seemed fair. “You ask me to do this for you, yet you offer nothing in return. What about my happiness? Could I not ask you to accept him for my sake?”
Gillian sighed. “I want you to be happy . . . that is why I would ask you to wait.”
Her sister truly believed Reid was not right for her. She wanted to rail at Gillian, but her sister was obviously acting out of love.
If she agreed to wait, it would devastate Reid. They’d promised to stay together . . . but she could admit there might be some merit to Gillian’s plan. It was true she hardly knew him . . .
Her intuition told her he was the one for her, the only one, but she’d only had the freedom to make her own decisions for such a short while.
“Very well,” she said reluctantly. “I will not do anything ‘rash,’ as you say. But by St. Crispin’s Day, if nothing has changed—”
“I will take you to Brockburg myself.”
Though you will still hate Reid.
She did not voice the thought aloud. Allie did not need confirmation of what she already knew.
“I am doing this for you. But understand, Gillian, nothing will change. You said I love Reid, and you were right. I do.” Nothing would change her mind about him, not even the kind of deplorable behavior that had set Gillian’s mind against him earlier. If only her sister would trust her to know her own mind, or trust that Reid must have merit if she had fallen in love with him.
As to that. She should probably wait to speak to Reid until tomorrow, but Allie had never been a particularly patient person.
* * *
Reid pounded his fist on the table, making the jug of ale rattle. Noticing it, he poured ale into his mug until it nearly spilled over. He’d been hesitant to return to his bedchamber, but it would seem Alex had found other accommodations for the evening.
Unsurprising after what he’d said to his brother.
Reid drained the ale much too quickly and poured himself another. After the scene with Alex, he’d gone into the hall and liberated a jug from one of the serving maids. Another infraction against him, no doubt.
Dammit, Reid.
He’d gone from cursing his brother to shifting the blame precisely where it belonged. What was wrong with him? Alex had asked him the same thing, but he couldn’t give an answer. Why did he insist on provoking everyone, including the people he loved?
Reid considering leaving to find Alex, but something held him back. Toren would say it was the streak of Kerr stubbornness that all three of them possessed. But it was more than that. Reid had nothing to say.
Alex had been right. About everything.
He’d been careless . . . and foolish . . . knowing Gillian despised him, Reid should have taken more care.
He truly didn’t deserve Allie.
A soft knock at the door wrested him out of his thoughts. Reid opened it and froze.
“You shouldn’t be here.” He did not move or invite Allie inside. He did, however, glance down at her boys’ breeches and shirt.
“I must speak with you.”
Reid motioned inside. “In here? Do you believe that is a—”
She wasn’t asking. Allie pushed her way around him and entered on her own accord.
He gripped the side of the door so hard his knuckles turned white. She should not be in here. Reid was not strong enough to leave her completely untouched. Even now, when he turned back toward her, his instinct was to toss her on his bed and ensure no one could question his right to marry her.
“How could you say such a thing?” she asked.
She was hurt, of course. He had sounded cold even to his own ears. Lashing out had been his specialty for so long—it was nigh on impossible to stop.
Reid closed his eyes and groaned. Having never practiced, he had not realized how difficult it would be to say the words aloud. When he opened his eyes, she stood there, calm . . . still . . . waiting. She looked curious rather than angry, as if she genuinely did not understand him.
“I did not mean it,” he started.
Nay, I can’t do this.
Allie moved toward him, but he held out an arm to stop her. He did not deserve to be comforted.
“No,” she said. “You will not.” She swatted at his arm, refusing to back down. “Tell me how you could be so hurtful, so uncaring to your own brother?”
When she looked at him that way, Reid wanted to fall onto his knees, wrap his arms around her and beg forgiveness. She was so good. So loving. The glib remark he’d planned stuck in his throat.
“I . . .” He shrugged.
“You don’t know.”
Allie took another step toward him and cupped his face as she’d done once before.
“I will not allow you to push me away like that. You can say you don’t care how your actions affect others, but I know otherwise. So shall we try this again?”
Her hands felt like two angel’s wings embracing him, holding him rooted to the spot. He couldn’t have turned away had he wanted to. She peered into his eyes, almost daring him to try.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are.”
“Your sister—”
“Is angrier than ever. But we’ve plenty of time to speak about that. I want to know . . . why Reid? Why do you say things you do not mean?”
Because it’s easier that way. Because it’s what’s expected of me.
When he didn’t answer, Allie moved her hands from his face to his waist. He wrapped
his arms around her shoulders and closed his eyes as she lay her head on his chest. He listened to her even breathing, not speaking or even making a move to explore her soft curves with his hands. They stood there that way for so long, Reid began to wonder if she had fallen asleep.
“Do not ever attempt that with me,” she demanded.
“I will not,” he promised.
“And you will apologize to your brother—”
“I’d already planned on it. And your sister too.”
Allie picked her head up and looked at him. “Nay, not her.”
“But—”
“I was wrong, Reid. A few days will not change her opinion. And now, after that performance . . .”
“What?” He didn’t like the look in her eyes. Could she be having second thoughts?
“I may have told her . . .”
When she tried to pull away, Reid held on to her. “What did you tell her?”
“I told her . . . I told her I would not do anything rash.”
“Such as?”
“Take you to my bed.”
When they both looked at his bed, she added, “Or allow you to take me to yours.”
He pulled back and shrugged. “’Tis not so bad. I—”
“That is not all.”
He really, really did not care for Allie’s sister.
“I promised to give it time. For us not to—”
He stepped back. “No. We made a promise. I will not leave here without you.”
The very thought filled him with panic. If he left her here with her sister, there was a chance, no matter how small, her sister would succeed in persuading her.
“You will. Just until St. Crispin’s Day—”
“Is this some sort of cruel jest? Did you really agree to that?”
Allie looked tired suddenly. He wanted to pick her up in his arms, carry her to the bed, and show her exactly what he thought of Lady Gillian’s decree.
“Suffice it to say Gillian does not believe you are the best man for me,” she said. And though regret dripped from every word, it pained him to hear it said aloud.
“She believes I need time away from you”—Allie smiled, but he could not even pretend to do the same—“and the undeniable pull you have on me.”
The Rogue’s Redemption Page 11