Page 6

He gestured up the hill. “I just recognized our new guests,” he said. “Go ahead. I will be right behind you to greet the men of Clan Kerr.”

With a nod, Allie began the long walk uphill. The guards, of course, knew she and Aidan trained nearly every evening. They had promised her brother-in-law not to mention the fact to anyone, though they likely thought her as silly as Aidan did. Allie didn’t care.

Allie tried to imagine the look on her father’s face if he were to find out what she was doing, and the image made her laugh aloud. She was still smiling when she entered the gatehouse and handed her sword to Aidan’s friend Lawrence. He kept the longsword for her, and he kept her secret too. Lawrence nodded knowingly, and she thanked him before she continued on to the keep.

It was nearly time for the evening meal, and if she wished to escape the odd looks her unconventional outfit was sure to cause, Allie thought it best that she enter through Armorer’s Tower rather than the main keep. She could reach her bedchamber from there.

A noise behind her made her turn back toward the gatehouse whence she’d come. The same men they’d seen earlier were exiting the stables as Aidan arrived to greet them. Allie could not see the men clearly, but she didn’t think she recognized them. Of course, she did not know many people in Scotland, save those here at Highgate.

But that was about to change.

3

Reid sent the men ahead. He planned to return to the gatehouse to speak to the guards and ensure they were taking proper precautions. A gathering such as this occurred so rarely, and with Douglas in attendance along with so many of the clans’ chiefs, there was danger of a targeted attack. If de Sowlis’s men resented his line of questioning, so be it.

And that’s when he saw her.

Though she looked his way, her gaze did not linger. From this distance, he could hardly see her face, but something about her caught his attention. Mayhap it was the boys’ clothing she wore. He’d seen women dressed that way before, though it was not common. Such a thing would not normally intrigue him, but he wished to see what lay beneath the oversized tunic draped over her. As Reid approached, he could see her shape more clearly beneath the voluminous fabric. Her curves were all woman, and her thick, lustrous brown hair was braided down her back.

The woman had turned away from him, and without thinking it through, he found himself following. His speed was enough that he would overtake her before she reached the keep. He did not know what he planned to say, but inspiration would come to him.

It always did.

Her hips swayed as she walked, the brisk pace making him wonder at her destination. He’d assumed she headed toward the keep, but instead she turned toward an attached tower building, reaching for the iron handle of the small wooden door.

He grabbed it from behind and opened it for her.

“Oh!”

When she spun around, Reid sucked in his breath. His instincts, as always, had not let him down. He wanted her, this slip of a woman who walked as if she owned Highgate End. She looked at him with a mixture of astonishment and lust.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I did not see you behind me.”

“Yet here I am.”

She did not know how to respond, but he did.

“I would follow you anywhere, fair maid.” He inclined his head to indicate she should continue inside.

“I . . .” She turned, peering into the entranceway. Her features were dainty for a lass who dressed as a man. “Are you looking for the hall?”

Reid didn’t answer. He was not, and she knew it.

“I . . . I’m afraid I am returning to my chamber to prepare for the meal. You cannot—”

“Perfect,” he said.

He expected a shy smile; she surprised him by frowning.

“Are you suggesting you would like to follow me there?”

Her speech marked her as a noblewoman. Though the revelation was disappointing—she was much less likely to entertain him—it did nothing to dampen his intrigue. Why was a noblewoman so oddly dressed?

“Only if you need an escort.”

She opened her mouth, likely to deny him, but then closed it instead. Her expression indicated she would have slapped him on the face had her good manners not insisted otherwise. Damn. He had very much misjudged her. Not just a noblewoman then, but an innocent. Too bad, since she really would have been an enjoyable way to pass the time here at Highgate.

“Who are you?” he asked. The question had not mattered before, but it certainly did now.