The Rogue’s Redemption

by Mecca, Cecelia

  “Graeme will kill me,” Aidan muttered beside her as they made the climb toward their destination.

  “Unless I do it first,” she teased. “You’ve said nothing else for two days.”

  He shook his head. “To think I’d always wished for a sister.”

  She laughed then, her mood light as they approached the gatehouse. Though she and Reid had only been separated for a matter of days, it felt like much, much longer since she’d last seen him. And while her stomach was jittery and her palms moist with sweat, Allie could not be happier with her latest rash decision.

  She’d been denied her entire life, but no longer. She was no longer the girl who’d obeyed her father so unquestioningly. And while she loved Gillian, she would not let her sister control her decisions either. Fortunately, Aidan had sympathized with her plight. Besides, as he had said, her father’s message needed to be brought to Brockburg anyway.

  Why shouldn’t they be the messengers?

  “If it were not for your father’s message—”

  “You would be here anyway.”

  He ignored her and spoke to the guard stationed atop the gatehouse wall. “Aidan, brother to Graeme, chief of Clan Scott, ally to Clan Kerr, requesting to be admitted entrance.”

  Allie had expected a delay, but the massive portcullis immediately began to rise. Perhaps that shouldn’t have come as a surprise. The two clans had been neighbors, and fair-weather allies, for years. These men likely knew Aidan and Graeme as well as anyone, a fact that was quickly confirmed as they rode through the gate. One of the guards inquired about Graeme and another greeted Aidan as if he were an old friend. A third led them toward the stables as Allie looked around the large inner courtyard. Like Highgate, Brockburg was built in a circular pattern with buildings on all sides. The ground beneath them was cobbled, a sign of great wealth. Allie counted seven towers in addition to the great keep. It was much larger than Lyndwood, though less spread out.

  Brockburg was an impressive stronghold.

  “My lady?” A groom held up his hand, and she dismounted. They’d arrived well past the evening meal, and only servants scurried through the courtyard now, mostly on account of their unannounced arrival. A man approached them, and before she could see his face, Allie’s heart skipped a beat at the thought it could be Reid.

  “Evening,” he said, coming closer. Not Reid. The man was smaller in stature, pleasing to the eye, and very clearly a man of the cloth.

  “Father Simon,” Aidan said, holding out his hand. “Do you make it your habit to wander the courtyard at night?” he asked. The two obviously knew each other well, and now that the man had been identified by name, she recognized him from Reid’s stories about his home. He’d told her the priest had come to Brockburg years ago, and though his age was certainly not advanced, his intelligence and compassion made him beloved by all. Including Reid.

  “As much, I presume, as you do arriving at such an hour with such a lovely companion at your side.”

  Allie curtsied to him. “Father.”

  He held out his arm to her, which she took immediately.

  “I was returning from the hall to the chapel when I noticed your arrival.” He smiled kindly at her as he answered Aidan. “What brings you to Brockburg?”

  As they walked toward the great keep, Allie’s bravado faltered.

  “An urgent message,” Aidan said from over her right shoulder. “For your chief. And I am pleased to introduce you to Lady Allie Bowman, whose father brought the message to us.”

  Father Simon looked curiously at her but refrained from asking why she would have been brought along, though he greeted her very graciously.

  “God is with you,” he said as they arrived at the main door, which was opened as they approached it. “Toren is still here, but he leaves in the morning.”

  She wanted to ask why but was afraid. “And Reid?”

  The priest stopped, looked from Aidan to her, and seemed to understand immediately. At least, she imagined so by the way he was looking at her now. Had Reid spoken of her?

  “At your service.”

  Her head shot toward the entrance to the keep. The very man who’d occupied her thoughts filled it with his presence. Allie was glad for Father Simon’s escort and tried not to squeeze the life out of his arm.

  Reid was looking at her. Not at Aidan or Father Simon. He watched her as closely as a hunter would watch his prey.

  She did not look away.

  And then he smiled.

  “Good evening, Allie.”

  * * *

  Reid did not know what she was doing here, but he didn’t care. When word of visitors had reached the hall, he’d garnered odd looks by immediately jumping up from his seat at the head table and making his way toward the keep’s entrance. Of course it would not be her. There was no reason for it to be her. She’d made her position clear, and even if she had changed her mind, she would not travel alone to Brockburg.

  And yet, he could not shake the feeling that the visitors were, indeed, from Highgate End. Which was why he was not more surprised to see her standing before him.

  “Aidan,” he amended, smiling gratefully at her companion. She’d not be here without him, though he assumed they were not here with Gillian or Graeme’s approval.

  “Come inside,” he said, offering his arm to Allie.

  She was truly here.

  And I’m leaving.

  Tomorrow he and Toren would ride south to either find the latest perpetrators, or to go to battle, or both. Pushing the thought from his mind, Reid concentrated on the woman who slipped her hand through his arm and followed him into the hall.

  “Would you care for a room first—”

  “A meal,” Aidan interrupted. “Thank you, Reid.”

  He inclined his head and accommodated them, instructing the steward, who’d reached the entryway moments after he did, to have their belongings brought to East Tower.

  “I’m sure you are aware it is a bit of a surprise to see you,” he said to Allie.

  She swallowed but did not speak, keeping her thoughts well-guarded.

  “We bring a message,” Aidan said as they entered the great hall. Toren and Juliette watched them approach. The meal was at its conclusion, and some had already retired for the evening. “An urgent one.”

  Reid noticed Aidan’s expression for the first time. He had assumed they’d made the trip at Allie’s request, but the urgency in Aidan’s voice told him there was more to it.

  “A private matter?”

  Aidan nodded. “Aye, I’m afraid so.”

  “Very well,” he said, arriving at the head table. “I am most anxious to hear it then, after you and your men eat.” He addressed his brother and his wife. “Chief, Lady Juliette,” he said, making his introduction more formal than was necessary, “may I present Lady Allie, daughter of John Bowman, Lord of Lyndwood. And her companion who we’ve all known since infancy.”

  Toren grinned. “No introductions are necessary,” he said, standing. He moved around the table and stood in front of Aidan. “Well met, de Sowlis,” he said, extending his hand.

  “Kerr,” Aidan responded. “’Tis good to see you again.”

  As the men exchanged greetings, Reid spoke to Juliette. “A seat at the head table if you please . . .”

  Of course, there was little need. Juliette was always two steps ahead. She had already summoned a maid, and she quickly instructed the woman to add two seats to the table.

  “Good evening,” she said to Allie, her bright smile answering his unspoken question. Toren had told her about Allie already, just as he’d assumed he would. “I am very pleased to meet you, Lady Allie.”

  “And I you, Lady Juliette.” Allie finished with a bow. She’d released his arm in their approach to the high table, much to his chagrin.

  Reid nodded, hating the formalities but knowing they were necessary. Whatever her reason for being here, he’d like nothing more than to scoop Allie up into his arms, carry her from the ha
ll, and—

  “Please, come sit,” Juliette said.

  Allie did so with the grace of a woman who had been raised a noblewoman. But he would always see her as the spirited vixen who’d pointed a sword at his head.

  Realizing everyone was staring at him, Reid walked around the table to take his seat between Juliette and Allie. Reid usually sat on the other side of Toren. Whether tonight’s seating was intentional or not—he suspected not—he was glad for it.

  “I do apologize for our late, unannounced arrival,” Allie began.

  “There is nothing for you to apologize for,” Reid said. “You are always welcome here.”

  The smile she gave him was that of a woman who’d been reunited with the man she loved, one who loved her in return. Reid’s heart skipped a beat. He could not wait to get Allie alone.

  When he looked to Juliette to support his words of welcome, his sister-in-law stared at him with wide eyes.

  “So tell me what brings you to Brockburg?” Juliette asked, turning her attention to their guest.

  “Aidan brings a message.” She left the rest unsaid.

  “And we are glad you’ve accompanied him,” Juliette said.

  The impromptu meal arrived, and as Allie ate, Reid sat back in his chair and listened as she and Juliette spoke of her journey and of England. He was not surprised the women spoke so easily to one another. They had much in common, including an overbearing father and a sheltered upbringing that had not seemed to diminish their love of life and the people around them. In fact, the two of them had already discovered some of those similarities, leaving him very much on the outside of the conversation.

  It was only when Allie had finished eating that she finally addressed him.

  “You are remarkably quiet.”

  “That is the least remarkable attribute of his this eve,” Juliette mumbled.

  “Is that so?” He should not encourage his sister-in-law.

  Juliette smiled at him, and Reid knew he was not going to like what she had to say.

  “You see,” she said to Allie. “This is not a Reid I know well.” Reid picked up the mug of ale in front of him, assuming he would need it. Unfortunately, Toren and Aidan’s conversation had ended at that exact moment, and both of them gave Juliette their attention as well.

  “Is it not?” Allie asked innocently.

  “Nay, not at all.” Juliette winked at him, and Reid knew he was in trouble. “This is a version of my dear brother-in-law that I have long suspected was there, but only the love of a good woman could bring it to the surface.” She looked at Allie then. “By some miracle, God has seen to it that you’ve entered Reid’s life, and I will do everything possible to ensure you stay there.”

  The import of her words hit everyone at once. She knew what she had said and was not prepared to take it back. In fact, she could not have declared her support for the match more publicly had she shouted the words for all to hear.

  Most importantly, Allie did not appear offended. In fact, she seemed to be waiting for his reaction. If she wished for a declaration, he was ready to give one to her.

  He raised his mug.

  “To my savior,” he said, not taking his eyes off Allie, “and the woman I intend to marry.”

  Allie led the others in a toast, raising her own goblet. They drank, and Juliette leaned over him to speak to his future wife.

  “Welcome to the family.”

  24

  She knew he would come to her.

  When the door opened to her bedchamber, Allie was sitting next to the fire, waiting.

  After the meal, Juliette had pulled her away from the others and brought her here. She’d ensured she was comfortable, then the two had talked for a while.

  Whereas Gillian had not made Reid feel welcome in their home, Juliette had immediately made her feel like family. She told her the story of how she and Toren had met at a tournament, a tale more dramatic than her own. They were so very similar, as if they’d been destined to be friends.

  And now they would be sisters through marriage. And it seemed as if she would be an aunt as well, although they had not spoken of the fact that Juliette was obviously with child.

  There was just one problem. She and Reid were not married, and although Allie would like nothing more than to say the words that bound them together forever, she still could not imagine doing so without Gillian present. Part of her wished for her parents to be there as well, though she doubted her father would ever agree to the union.

  It seemed an impossible problem, and she stewed over it long after Juliette left the room, but all thoughts of the obstacles between them floated away when she saw him in the doorway.

  Reid did not hesitate at the entrance. He closed the door behind him and reached her in just a few strides. She’d hardly finished standing when he grabbed her and brought his head down for the kind of kiss she’d dreamed about since he left. Pulling her closer, he swept his tongue inside her mouth, unapologetically unrelenting, and groaned when she responded in kind. The onslaught of sensations, from his mouth to the hard chest and body that was pushing her toward the bed, threatened to overwhelm her.

  Allie could hardly stand. Nor did she wish to.

  When he pushed her down on the soft feather bed, she refused to lie there alone and grabbed his tunic, taking him with her. Reid fell onto her, capturing her mouth once again. His hands were everywhere, and as she pulled on his shirt, attempting to separate it from his hose underneath, Reid found his own destination. His hand had slipped under her chemise and covered one of her breasts. As he squeezed and caressed, she finally reached her own goal. The feel of his skin beneath her fingertips . . . his back, smooth and hard, his muscles flexing as she touched him.

  Then, just as abruptly as he had started, Reid stopped. He pulled his hand back and stood, looking down at her as if seeing her for the first time.

  “My God, woman. I’d take you here and now.”

  Though she wanted to tell him to do so, the words would not form on her tongue. She’d been trained too well, and they were not yet married . . .

  But she was sorely tempted.

  “Could we marry tonight?” she teased, sitting up and crossing her legs under her.

  Reid walked away from the bed and began to pace in the center of the chamber.

  “We could,” he said, turning back to her. “We’ve only to say the words.”

  He was serious. Reid watched her, waited for her response. And while no church or priest, including Father Simon, nor witnesses or even her father’s consent was needed, Allie knew her answer before she opened her mouth to speak.

  “I cannot,” she said. “To do so would ensure the wrath of my family forever.”

  Reid licked his lower lip, something she wished he would not do, and began to pace again.

  “A wrath I would readily accept, though I know you cannot.”

  Allie watched him for a moment and said, “Come. Sit with me.”

  His expression made her laugh.

  “I will not eat you,” she said. For a man so strong and powerful, he looked terrified of coming close to her.

  “I will,” he said, taking a deep breath. “In a moment.”

  Allie contented herself with watching him, amused and aroused that she had this powerful an effect on such a man. Finally, after a few more turns around the room, he approached the bed.

  “Fair warning, my English maiden. My struggle to not touch you will be a hard-fought battle, and I’m likely to lose.”

  Chuckling, she pulled him toward her as he sat across from her on the bed. “Look, you are touching me and nothing untoward is happening.”

  “Yet.”

  They sat that way, holding hands, for longer than she would have thought comfortable. Oddly, words were not needed. She could sense his warmth, his love, without them.

  “What changed your mind?” he asked finally. “I thought you had promised to give this”—he gestured between them—“time.”

  Allie t
old him of the recent events at Highgate. He already knew of her father’s visit, so she explained Gillian’s plan and watched his expression change from understanding to anger.

  “England?”

  “Aye,” she said.

  “Your sister would leave her husband and return to England in the midst of all this trouble to get you away from me?”

  Allie wished there was another way to explain Gillian’s plan, but there was not. “Of sorts.”

  He frowned.

  “It is not just Gillian.” Defending her sister, she said, “Even Juliette remarked on how different you are with me. And though I’m grateful for it . . .”

  “What are you saying?”

  “You should try to understand. You’ve admitted yourself that you can be . . .”

  “An arse?”

  Or worse. “Aye, just so.”

  Reid squeezed her hand, but he didn’t object. He knew it was true as well as she did.

  “Juliette tells me you are leaving on the morrow?” She’d hoped Juliette was mistaken, but she could see from his expression she was not.

  “I wish it were not so—”

  “But what of the information from my father? If Caxton is behind the attacks, is deliberately attempting to goad the clans . . .”

  “I believe your father and am not surprised by his information. Something has felt . . . off. I could not explain it. But our clansmen are becoming too impatient. If we do nothing, again, Toren and I fear a rebellion.”

  “Against his leadership? Would they really act against their chief?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t believe so. But whether by words or deed, the men of Clan Kerr have friends, allies, in other clans. While they do not control Toren, the time for inaction has passed. A rebellion could come from other clans, Scottish reivers . . .”

  So he really was leaving. Worse, he’d be in danger.

  “Stay,” he said. “Remain until I return. And then I will escort you to Highgate. But you will be my wife,” he said. “And I do not wish for you to go back to England without me by your side.”