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He sat forward and braced his hands on his knees. “Is that what you want, brother?”

Toren startled. “Of course.”

Despite what he’d said to Gillian, Reid tried one last time to warn his brother away. “I am no Alex.”

Toren could not hide his surprise. He’d begged Reid dozens of times to allow him to put his name before the elders. He’d even appealed in their father’s name. But it had all been for naught.

Until now.

“No,” he agreed. “You are not.”

Reid clenched his fists.

“You are temperamental and rash. Your predilection to agree to any challenge is worrisome, and you speak without thinking more often than not.”

Toren’s words were true, but they stung nonetheless.

“I defy any man to lay claim that he is without faults.”

“You did not let me finish,” Toren said. He leaned forward, so close that Reid could have touched him if he so desired. “My answer is yes. For you are also a man more loyal than any other and one who would risk himself for others, even if not expected to do so. I would be proud to have you by my side. As your chief . . . and your brother.”

Could he live up to such an honor?

He thought of Allie. Her smiling face, her bravery and indomitable spirit. That such a woman could love him, want to spend her life with him.

“Notify the elders.”

Toren jumped from his seat and pulled Reid up with him. He embraced him, clasping him so hard it would have hurt had they not been of equal height and build.

“Why now?” Toren finally asked, stepping back.

Wanting to get it over with, Reid admitted, “I am in love.”

He braced himself for his brother’s reaction. To his own ears, he sounded like a fool. And clearly Toren could not have been more surprised.

“Pardon?” He sat back down as if the words had affected his ability to stand.

“I am in love,” he repeated. “And would bring my future wife to Brockburg as the wife of Clan Kerr’s tanist.” The words came more easily now. The idea of him serving in such a position felt much less absurd than it had before Highgate. And though he was not Alex, he did not need to be his brother. He needed only to be the man Allie looked at with reverence in her eyes.

“I see.”

“She is the sister of Lady Gillian Bowman, wife of—”

“Graeme de Sowlis,” Toren finished.

Reid waited and was quickly rewarded.

Toren’s smile was no less irritating than he’d expected. “An Englishwoman? Are there not enough Scots women for you to choose from?”

They were the exact words he’d spoken to Toren when his brother had returned from England with Juliette.

Reid rolled his eyes.

“A fair English rose . . . will she wither here in the harsh north?” Toren continued to taunt.

“Enough,” he said, without passion.

“And so, the end of my brother as I know him. From the training yard to a lover’s knee, bent before his—”