Page 95 of The Rogue’s Redemption

“I was thinking how unlucky it was that you kept witnessing Reid at his worst.”

“Unlucky . . . perhaps.”

They slowed as the men in front of them came to a stop. When Allie heard the trickle of water above the sound of leaves rustling in the wind, she understood why they had stopped. Following Graeme’s lead, Allie and Gillian dismounted and led their horses toward the small stream that ran across their path. Pain knifed into her. Allie remembered this same stream from her trip to Brockburg. Then, she had been filled with hope for her future. Now, the future seemed so drab. So dull. So empty of Reid.

Gillian handed her reins to Graeme’s squire, who reached up for Allie’s next. She handed them over and joined her sister at the edge of the stream. When she placed her fingers in the shallow stream, she jolted back from the cold. How Reid could think to bathe in such frigid waters . . .

Reid.

Would there come a time when she was not reminded of him at every turn?

Like now, as the sound of approaching riders demanded the attention of their men, Allie of course imagined it was him. Still bent down at the edge of the water, she picked up a pebble and tossed it into the water, watching as it sunk to the bottom, which was not so far below the surface. Good thing, as they would be crossing as soon as the horses were rested.

From the sounds behind her, Allie could tell the newcomers were friends, not foes, as would be expected this close to Brockburg Castle. She stood and turned, curious.

Nay. It could not be.

* * *

If Graeme and Gillian’s expressions were indicative of Allie’s mood, he would be lucky for the chance to speak with her. They glared at him with open hostility as the lady he sought bent down to the stream where their horses drank.

He ignored Graeme’s questions, mesmerized by the sight of Allie picking up a rock and tossing it, the movements as graceful as when that same lady cut through the air with a sword nearly her height.

God, she was lovely. When she stood, and turned, Reid sucked in a breath.

No harsh words could hold him back, although Graeme was certainly trying. He did not intend to disrespect the chief, but Reid would not be waylaid. He would say what he had come here to say, and no one would stop him. He took one step toward her, then another, and another, until they stood face to face.

“So you finally came,” she said, her voice clear and strong. Reid almost wished she would rage at him. Tell him to go away. Instead, she seemed as if she had truly given up on him.

“I would follow you anywhere, fair maid.”

It took her a moment to remember that he’d said those words before. He could tell when understanding finally dawned. Her eyes widened slightly, though her expression was no friendlier than it had been that first time.

“And as I said then, I would say I’m pleased to meet you, but I do not care to perjure myself. Again.”

He remembered every word of that fateful meeting.

“I told you that you would change your mind.”

“And you were right. Then.”

She had changed her mind, but he’d successfully convinced her to forsake him. Reid shot a glance over his shoulder, and as he suspected, their conversation was anything but private. While most of his men had stayed some distance away, giving him space, Graeme’s did not. The chief and his wife both glowered at him.

He would do this with an audience, it seemed. So be it. “I aim to change it again. I should not have told you to leave. I’ll not excuse my behavior then or”—he turned to look at Gillian, who was not hiding the fact that she was listening—“when we first met, Lady Gillian.”

Reid turned back to Allie. “I thought I was doing what was best for you by sending you away.” He implored her to understand. “I love you, Allie. And although you’ve said the same to me, I will admit that I never truly believed someone as kind as you would want to spend her life with someone like me.”

“And you believe it now?”

He went to her then, her opening the miracle he’d been hoping for.

“I do,” he said, tentatively taking her hands in his. “And if you will still have me, I would make you my wife. I am no one—not a chief or even a chief’s second. I am neither a great lord nor a powerful earl to make you his countess. But I am a man who has learned he must earn what he wants, one who will honor his vow to love you, and only you, for every day that we are given together.”

He watched as her eyes darted behind him.

“Say you will come back with me,” he whispered. “Tell me you still love me, and I will spend a lifetime winning your sister to our side.”

Finally, her lips turned up in the slightest smile that, to him, was the most beautiful sight in the world.