Page 47 of Outlaw Ever After (Highland Handfasts #3)

Her hand trembled. Her eyes dared to read on, even though she willed them not to.

“Such an income will allow us to live well in our wee paradise. Lady Rose has agreed to provide you lodging until my return, for I will run hard and fast back to you.”

Her heart hammered as she devoured the words, confusion mounting. Where had Seamus gotten this? Her head began to shake.

Keep my promise on your finger, and ken that whilst I ask much of you to wait another sennight, such an employ will allow me to provide without worry of where our coin will come from.

I cannot promise you a wealthy life. But I can promise to steal my songbird away to where we can both leave our pasts behind and forge anew. ”

Alex had told the truth. He’d been telling the truth all along while she’d doubted. He’d ridden up to Freuchie after months of searching, only to find her prepared to be won in a tournament. And Seamus…

Her own brother had stood before her two days ago, interrogating her about why she’d thought to elope. Letting her believe that Alex had forsaken her, letting her entertain falsehoods about Alex’s intentions toward her, when he’d harbored this missive the whole time.

Betrayal cut, disbelief stunning her to silence. Her lungs fought for air.

Her stalwart brother. Stubborn and yet, a man she’d still trusted to be loyal despite the past, had deliberately sabotaged her. He’d known this whole time that she’d intended to elope and had thwarted her.

“’Tis unfair of me to ask you to wait longer for me, but I am coming to you with all my haste. ~ C.”

C?

“Who is

C

, Peigi?”

Peigi’s head whipped up. Kendrew? He stood in the doorway, eying the missive in her hand with a foreboding aura of knowing in his tone.

“Where did my brother get this?” she said, but her throat was dry.

The crab apples.

C

. Had Alex been trying to divulge a piece of himself to her in this missive?

“I found it this summer and passed it onto Seamus.”

She shivered. They’d

both

known? Kendrew, a long-time ally, had duped her. Why?

Because he wants Freuchie

, whispered her memories.

Had Kendrew known since she was only nine years old that this would be her dowry? Is that why he’d remained a bachelor?

“Ye ken who it’s from?” he asked.

She could tell from his tone that he knew she did, but she nodded anyway, betrayal slicing so deep she couldn’t speak—

Wait, Kendrew told me at Lughnasadh that everyone had left the faire, that no one remained…

“I ken it’s that man,” he pressed, “but why no’ sign his name with an

A

instead, I wonder?”

“Ye and Seamus

both

kenned. All this time… And so, ye conspired to keep me from him?”

He shrugged as if it were of no consequence. “Ever since ye were wee, I’ve strived to protect ye like a brother. I’d nay let ye make such a foolish decision.”

“Ye lied to me.”

“I am nay a liar, Peigi.”

“Indeed, as honest as yer brothe—” She slammed her mouth shut. She knew nothing of what his brother had said he’d witnessed on that day of darkness, but Seamus had said he’d seen the boy do it.

For some reason, her gut was warning her to silence. The only way Kendrew could have known she trysted with Alex would have been if he’d been watching her at Lughnasadh.

Kendrew fell silent. His face blanked.

She prickled.

“What was he dishonest about, Peigi?”

He didn’t like that she’d mentioned his brother. She backed up a step.

An amicable smile brightened his face, his worrisome demeanor vanishing like smoke on the wind. “I can see I’ve distressed ye, which is nay my intention. But Seamus might no’ like ye rummaging through his solar.”

She lifted her chin at his warning laced into his friendly tone. She was done being silent.

“This is

my

castle, Sir MacGregor, and thus,

my

solar until I take a husband. And dare I remind ye, this missive was intended for

me

.”

He opened his mouth—

“I bid thee good night, Sir MacGregor.” She held his stare until finally, he broke it and bowed out of the chamber. “Good night, Peigi.”

“

Lady

Peigi.”

He glanced sidelong at her correction. Nodded, and departed.

Helpless she was as to what to do, one thing was certain: she couldn’t marry Kendrew.

She wanted her shiny, emerald-eyed warrior who’d stayed loyal to her memory.

She wanted to fight for him to win. She wanted to scream every secret in her heart to the earth when her brother returned, ready to arrest the Outlaw Comyn with a royal troop.

She wanted her rogue, his teasing, his spark of light that broke down her every defense. She breezed down the corridor, down the stairs, winding past the tapestries as that frustration bloomed to distress she couldn’t settle—

“

Oomph

!” She slammed into a body.

As she was teetering off balance, hands spanned her waist, steadying her.

“What’s sent ye running, songbird?” rumbled the voice of the man she’d once despaired had forsaken her.

She looked into Alex’s narrowed eyes. Even a step down, he was still a head taller.

Her confusion bubbled to the surface. The one thing she’d ever asked of this man was that he be honest with her, and yet, she now realized, it was the one thing he could never compel his tongue to do unless he knew he was safe to do it.

With her, in his missive, he’d begun to feel as if he could.

She shook her head. Hopelessness swirling with desperation to save him once more from her brother’s anger, she palmed his cheek.

Then looked to the tapestry beside them.

Caressed a finger over the babe as that draft, that spark—as if she stood on a cliff facing the sea, ready to jump and yet unsure—sent a tingling up her arm and straight to her heart.

Her gaze flitted back to him, eyes watering, to see that he’d followed her touch, his eyes riveted on her finger. That silence that always overtook him when mention of his family was made settled on him now, caging him like a restless animal.

Indeed, this castle and lands meant more to him than the other contestants. Her brother was right. He had far more at stake. Arriving at Freuchie had been a repatriation. She saw how he oft gazed at the trees, at the buildings, as if the past were running through his blood.

“That is ye,” she breathed, nodding when he said nothing, his face becoming so impassive it was anything but.

His gaze remained fixed on her finger, touching the image of the babe.

“The orchard…the Burning Sticks…how ye kenned the way to the village, how they all want ye to win… Are ye the lad,

Caleb C

—”

“Nay ask me that,” he gruffed. “Unless ye truly hope to see yer brother take me head.”

But his jest, harkening to their song, fell flat.

“That lad died long ago,” he bit.

“Nay…” She shook her head. Which meant he was…Aulay’s

cousin

. As was he Francine’s! And Peigi had thought he flirted that first night when in sooth those smiles of his had been a secret homecoming “Ye lie. Ye survived—”

“He

died

,” he gnashed out angrily. “Just like his sire, whose head stood here on a pike for all to see, hunted like a fox for years, denied what his sire worked so hard to bequeath to him, whipped—”

Oh God. His back. Her stomach knotted with sickening twists and she gripped his cheek. “Mayhap he died. But

ye

survived.”