Page 7 of The Rogue’s Redemption

“Are you always so . . . direct?”

“Always.”

Her eyes narrowed. Their conversation had come to an end.

Pity.

“I am sister to Lady Gillian, wife of Graeme de Sowlis, chief of Clan Scott and—” she paused for effect, as if one were needed, “—your host.”

Reid bowed, an exaggerated one sure to inflame her. Though why he goaded the lady, he didn’t know.

“Reid Kerr,” he said, leaving the introduction at that.

“I would say I’m pleased to meet you.” Her eyes narrowed. “But I do not care to perjure myself.”

Indeed. Reid might enjoy himself at Highgate after all.

“You will change your mind.”

Eyes widening, she walked into the tower and left him holding the door. It was only as Reid watched her go that he realized she’d not told him her name.

No matter. He would find out soon enough.

* * *

“If there is nothing else, my lady, your sister—”

“Go,” Allie said. “And please tell Gillian I will be down shortly.”

Morgan’s very proper curtsy was followed by her quick exit. The lady’s maid had attended to her and Gillian for years, and was as much a friend as she was a helper, yet she still insisted on politesse.

Dressed for the evening meal but not quite ready to attend it, Allie thought back to her meeting with Reid Kerr, the most handsome and most irritating man she’d ever met. When she’d first turned around, Allie had nearly been knocked over by the sheer force of him. It was a ridiculous notion, of course, but true nonetheless. His height and muscular frame, his self-assured smile and piercing eyes, his thick light brown hair—one could hardly take it all in at once.

Of course, he could tell how he affected her.

For a brief moment, as her heart hammered in her chest and Reid looked at her with open admiration, she felt on the cusp of doing something foolish. Her sister had engaged in a passionate embrace with a stranger, Graeme, only to find herself wedded and headed to Scotland in a mere two days. She’d struggled to understand how rational, proper Gillian had been induced to do such a thing.

She suddenly understood.

For if the circumstances had been different, the man less arrogant and more . . . more like Graeme, or even Aidan, she’d have done the same. That embarrassing fact was overshadowed by another. Reid Kerr was a complete and utter arse. She should be embarrassed by the vile language, even though she hadn’t spoken the word aloud, but there was no other description that seemed to fit.

Standing, Allie took a deep breath and made her way from her chamber down a set of winding stone stairs. She could reach the main keep from the bottom floor of the tower or go back outside the way she had come. A moment later, finding herself in the same spot where she had first encountered the insufferable Scotsman, Allie chastised herself for a fool. Was she really looking for him? No, she was not. Certainly not. He’d be long gone.

And thank the saints for that.

Of course, he was very likely to appear in the great hall for the evening meal—the meal that was already well underway by the time Allie entered the main doors of the keep and ascended to the hall. The din of clanging mugs and the murmuring voices grew louder with each step. The center of all castle activity became more crowded every night, and according to Gillian, Highgate’s hall would be filled to capacity by the time the meeting of the great council commenced in three days’ time. They’d greeted guests at Lyndwood, of course, but never this many at once.

“Good to see I am not the only late arrival.”

Allie jumped at the sound of Aidan’s voice. By the time she turned around, he was watching her with the same look of concern he wore any time she or Gillian appeared unhappy.

“You really are the best brother a lady could acquire,” she said sincerely.

“By marriage, of course,” he said, holding out his arm.

She took it without thought and allowed him to escort her to the high table.

“Well?” he prodded. “You want to talk about what has you—”