Page 3 of The Rogue’s Redemption

Allie looked up as if the sky would reveal how much time they had remaining. For the past three days the sun had refused to show itself, an indication, had they needed one, that a change of season was upon them. Soon warm days would be replaced with cool, autumn evenings.

“Your friend has returned.”

She’d already felt the soft brush of fur through the fabric of her dress. The kitten seemed to have come from nowhere a few days earlier. No one was able to locate her parents. Allie wished to help her, but each time she reached down to scoop up her furry friend, the kitten ran away.

This time, Aidan stopped her as soon as she moved her hand.

“Let her get accustomed to you,” he said. “She may not be ready just yet.”

It was not Allie’s nature to be patient, but she took his advice and simply watched the brown and gray kitten with her white paws and the adorable white patch on her face. When her restraint cracked and she reached down to pet the kitten, the little one ran away.

“I will meet you there as soon as I speak to Graeme.” With that, Aidan winked and turned toward the keep.

Allie smiled to herself. She’d known he would come.

Rather than follow him into the keep, she leaned against the cold stone wall of Highgate Castle. Perhaps she should reconsider and tell her sister about the lessons. After all, Gillian was nothing like their parents, though she’d become a mite more protective now that Allie was living in Scotland.

As far as Allie was concerned, she was never, ever going back. After one near brush with marriage to a completely inappropriate and undesirable man, the Earl of Covington, she did not plan on allowing her father to arrange a match with another wealthy old bore. He was the last person in the borderlands she’d trust with her future. Still, he kept trying. Indeed, his latest attempt to lure her back to England had arrived the day before.

After changing into an outfit appropriate for training—tights and a loose linen shirt she’d borrowed from her brother-in-law—Allie spent the next hour visiting the armorer. When she finally spotted Aidan leaving the keep, Allie slowly followed. She took a different route than her brother-in-law, heading beyond the gatehouse and down the hill. He thought it unnecessary, all the secrecy and hiding, and though Allie had tried to explain her reasoning for insisting on it, she knew he didn’t understand.

Allie wanted this. Needed this. It was the only thing she’d ever had that was hers and hers alone. No one had told her to train with Aidan. No one had even recommended it. She had come up with the idea on her own and persuaded him—with difficulty.

Indeed, when she’d first proposed the idea, Aidan had thought it a jest. She’d insisted it wasn’t and asked him to choose a weapon for her to use.

His choice of the longsword had surprised her, but the need to use both hands actually made it a lighter choice than any other weapon, with the exception of a dagger. And she was even more surprised to discover she was good at it. Indeed, in the few weeks since they’d begun to train, she had improved enough to become an actual sparring partner.

She followed Aidan into the dense thicket. What little light remained was blocked by the trees’ canopy.

Almost there.

They would have an hour, no more, before the evening meal was served. The meal promised to be a lively affair since Gillian and her new husband were preparing to host a council meeting, the first such affair they’d oversee as husband and wife. Clan chiefs, chieftains, and even the Lord Warden himself would soon descend on Highgate End.

“Something’s wrong,” Aidan correctly surmised when he saw her.

“I was thinking of the council.”

Aidan cocked his head to the side. “What of it?”

She looked up into the warm, honest eyes of the man who’d quickly become her friend and confidante these past months. “We’ll not be able to meet with so many people about.”

Aidan rolled his eyes, something he often did with her, although Allie didn’t take offense. He was playful by nature, one of his many endearing qualities.

“We shall see about that,” he said. “Now come, lass, we’ve not much time.”

Allie beamed, eagerly anticipating her favorite part of the day.

2

“You really should be more discreet in your attentions.”

Reid tore his gaze away from the comely maid who was bent over the trestle table in front of them, beneath the raised dais. His sister-in-law was looking at him with more pity than concern.

“Why?” Reid asked. A glare from his brother told him that his tone was not appreciated. “That is to say”—Reid reached for the goblet in front of him—“why do you say so, Jules?”

Juliette had learned to tolerate him, and sometimes, though not at the moment, she even seemed to like him.

“The new maid did not arrive here alone,” Juliette answered, gesturing to another woman at the back of the hall.