Page 22 of The Rogue’s Redemption

“I believe we should continue to keep the sessions private for now.” Allie nodded to her left.

“I should think so,” Aidan said, wiping his fingers on the small linen cloth at his side. He lowered his voice once again. “She is not alone in her assessment of him, you know.”

Allie watched Aidan’s expression carefully. “You dislike him?”

Aidan sighed and looked straight at the man in question, who was now in deep conversation with the others at his table. “I did not say that.”

Allie waited for him to continue.

“I believe Re—”

“He,” she interrupted, not wanting Aidan to say his name aloud even though they were speaking in low voices.

“He,” Aidan corrected. “I believe he is a good man, a respected warrior, who has yet to find his place.”

“I don’t understand.”

Aidan smiled at the maid who brought a new jug of wine to their table. “When his older brother married and moved to Dunmure Tower, there was immediately talk of him being named second.”

Allie smiled, grateful for Aidan’s discretion.

“Some say he doesn’t want it. Others believe the clan elders won’t allow it. Though no one knows the truth.” Aidan shrugged. “As I said, he does have somewhat of a—”

He cut himself off and gave her a look.

Allie hated that look.

“You were about to say something to insult my young, delicate English ears,” she said. She may have more freedom at Highgate than she did in Lyndwood, but she was still treated as a child sometimes.

“A reputation with women.”

“Oh my,” she mocked, holding her hands to her ears. “Not that. However will I recover? My tender sensibilities have been damaged beyond repair.”

Aidan laughed.

“You must share the jest,” Gillian said, turning toward them.

“Aidan has been taking lessons from you, dear sister, on how not to insult my innocence.”

Gillian and Graeme exchanged a very different kind of look—one full of affection and something more—and Allie groaned aloud.

She appealed to Aidan. “You may stay to witness this display,” she teased, “but I must excuse myself for a moment. ’Twill be a long night,” she said, indicating the musicians in the corner of the hall.

“My lady,” Aidan said, standing. “Until your return.”

Allie made her way through the hall, smiling and nodding to the few familiar faces, careful not to glance his way. She picked up the hem of her favorite royal blue gown, the heavy velvet suited more for winter, and made her way toward the nearest garderobe.

She must not have been gone for very long. On her way back, Allie swore the same song was being played, the pipe and tabor a reminder of her youth in Lyndwood. When she turned the corner, careful not to walk into the oil wall torch she knew was bracketed on the other side, Allie stopped so quickly she nearly fell forward.

“Oh,” she said, the smell of food and woodsmoke replaced by the scent of sandalwood.

“My lady,” Reid said.

Allie ignored her racing pulse and curtsied, pretending not to notice how different he looked this evening. Clean-shaven and dressed in a rich black surcoat that made his hair appear even lighter, Reid Kerr was even more handsome than usual. Oh, he was the most dangerous sort of man. One who had the ability to rob her of all coherent thought.

When she tried to walk past him, he grasped her arm.

“Going back so quickly?”