Page 54 of Outlaw Ever After (Highland Handfasts #3)

Secret passages?

Awestruck, Peigi watched Alex…nay, Caleb

, check once more to ensure the corridor was empty, then pull aside the tapestry and with a stiff jolt, ease the door open.

No wonder he had been able to appear in places it had seemed impossible for him to be. Peigi clung to his hand as he guided her, entombed in blackness, down a set of stairs.

No more teases in her ear or cocksure grins. His grip was tight and worried. She flexed her hand to ease his death grip pinching her fingers.

She patted him to feel where he was. He was hunched over, contorting himself sideways to make room for his shoulders. Her head skimmed the ceiling of this narrow staircase and their breathing was close and muted. It smelled musty and dank.

Finally, they stopped. He rested silent, an ear to a door. He eased it open. More blackness, but this was shadowed in light seeping beneath cracks above them, illuminating just enough to make out dark, shadowy shapes.

The buttery! Rows of casks.

He eased her up the stairs to the main level. Once more, he listened and then cracked open the door. No one. The hall was calmer, the hour late. He pulled her into the kitchen and down the stairs to the side exit. Pushed the door open, glancing out through the crack.

All was silent. He padded softly through the fallow garden rows and out the gate as she clenched him, her belly full and her heart hammering. They were really doing this. Usurping the entire tourney. Only one other time had she snuck about in the middle of night to do the wrong thing.

Sometimes wrong was right.

From shadow to shadow he hurried her, vigilant like the warrior he’d had to become, and when they arrived at the stables, Thomas was beaming proudly, his finger over his lips.

“I was quiet, as ye said,” the boy whispered.

“Good lad.” Caleb ruffled his hair in praise.

Making their way to the back of the stable, he tested the saddle, checked the straps, and wedged a boot in the stirrup to swing his powerful leg over.

Then he maneuvered Faunus to the mounting block, reached down to her, and produced…a posy.

Hawthorn. Clover. Forget-me-not. Tied with a soft green ribbon like a bouquet.

“A hawthorn to drive away despair,” he said. “Clover, for good luck.” Their fingers brushed as she took the posy, that energy sparking. “And a forget-me-not, so ye ken that I’m always praying for thee.”

Her eyes misted. She closed them as the sweet memory of two wee souls crashed through her. How special her gift to him had once been, how special it was returned now.

“Come to the kirk with me. And become Mistress Stewart.” He repeated the words he’d once asked at Lughnasadh, his emerald eyes gleaming with eagerness.

She chewed her lip and fingered the greenery, thinking of all he might be giving up, and…shook her head.

His brow furrowed as she took the posy and brought it to her nose, inhaling the fresh cuttings. “Lass?”

“Mistress Comyn

,” she said softly. “I’m marrying an outlaw, the son of a baron, the Honorable Caleb Comyn, for ever after.”

…

Her arms banded about his waist and body molded to his back as her fingers toyed with his posy like an expensive jewel, as he tapped Faunus and reined him through the stable door—

Sir Kendrew MacGregor stepped in front of him.

He dragged back his reins. Peigi’s arms tensed. Spied several MacGregor guardsmen lurking outside the halos of torchlight, like wraiths ready to strike.

Shite.

Eight…nine…ten…

He could outmaneuver them. But if he bolted, it would be a rough ride for his fragile songbird and unborn bairn.

MacGregor’s claymore was propped into the dirt casually as he leaned on it.

If he had to fight, Peigi could get hurt.

His unborn could be lost after learning they’d been granted the chance to keep it. She’d be terrified.

“Something ye said struck me. The walls have ears,” MacGregor said. “And when Lady Peigi was abed nay long ago when I’d been certain she was still in the village celebrating, I checked the walls. Ye ken what I found?”

He hefted up his sword. Flicked his finger at his guardsmen, who paced forward like wolves stalking prey.

“I’m sure ye’ll tell me,” Alex quipped, notching up his chin.

C—Alex,” Peigi croaked.

He squeezed her hand for assurance. He’d take another blade for her before he ever let her be scathed.

“Oh, I think ye meant

Caleb

, Lady Peigi. Yer word. Ye see, I found a door,” MacGregor replied as her grip on him whitened and her body went rigid. “In fact, I found more than one. No wonder ye’ve been so elusive.”

Alex’s eyes darted over MacGregor’s shoulder, feinting seeing someone coming.

The feint worked. MacGregor glanced back—

Alex knocked his sword away with his boot, wrenching Peigi free and swinging her down.

“Guards!” bellowed MacGregor into the quiet night.

“Get inside, lass,” Alex demanded.

Accoutrements jingled and sentries on the towers shouted down.

“Caleb, nay!” she cried, reaching up to him.

“

Inside

!” he bellowed at her.

He flicked loose a rib slitter from his wrist and his scythe from his back. Spun them both into his grip as MacGregor whirled around.

“It’s the Outlaw Comyn!” MacGregor’s weapons were his words, slicing truer than any blade as the bastard prowled a circle around him and Faunus.

Guardsmen rushed forward. Shite.

He could outsmart nine or ten. Time to see if the Reaper could outfight a score.

…

“Nay! Kendrew! Stop!” Peigi cried.

“Get inside, love,” Caleb commanded again.

But she couldn’t leave! Her heart pounded as her miracle of a man, who’d defied such odds, deflected MacGregor’s sword.

He flung a leg over Faunus’s neck and jumped down. He slapped the beast’s rear to send him trotting and Peigi hastened to gather the reins as Caleb met with MacGregor’s swing. Guardsmen circled as her brother’s men flooded onto the green from around the castle and out the doors onto the courtyard.

Sir Donegal ran forward, confused. She intercepted him, gripping his arms.

“Sir Donegal, it’s nay true, it’s nay—”

Her brother’s loyal first-in-command looked back and forth between Caleb and her.

He sidestepped her. Hooves were thundering in the distance.

“No, Donegal! He’s nay a killer!” she cried. “I swear, if ye’d just listen!”

“She nay kens the truth!” Kendrew shouted. “Donegal! This is the man who murdered the Grant’s sire!”

“ Nay

!” Peigi shrieked, chasing after him.

“Stay back, mi lady,” Donegal demanded, as guardsmen converged. Grappled.

A dagger swung toward him, cutting him.

“ Caleb

!” she screamed as he returned the stab.

He parried. Deflected. Darted to the stable and hopped up onto the wall, kicking away a sword and hopping over another swing with a taunting laugh. “That the best ye got?”

Her cocksure warrior merely waggled his brow as if this were a game, but she could see the hardened torque to his neck, the feral stance of his body. He could try all he liked to treat this like a contest, but this was much worse.

He leapt down and led the swarm into the stable, shouting at Thomas to leave.

Mon Dieu, the bairn!

She hurried to a window, reaching inside as the guardsmen funneled in and she watched her outlaw parry like a seasoned pirate, disturbing the horses that neighed their disapproval.

Were

those hooves in the distance? Or was her blood pounding hot in her ears?

“Thomas!” she gasped, taking his hand and hauling him out to wrap in her arms and hurry to the safety of the courtyard steps amid the clanks of steel and grunts.

She pressed the child against her stomach.

Yet as she whirled around, Caleb emerged and slammed shut the stable door, swinging closed the bar.

The doors pounded and rattled as an uproar surged within and Caleb, bloodied and disheveled in a lopsided tunic, rushed toward Faunus, leaping and reaching for the saddle…

“Running away!” MacGregor taunted him as he made chase. “Ye’re good at that, is he nay, Lady Peigi?”

Her blood rushed angrily in her ears as the bar across the stable door splintered and crashed open. Because of Kendrew!

Surrounded yet again, Caleb dragged on the reins to whirl Faunus around, who protested and tossed his head.

No good!

Swords drawn. A score of men surrounded him!

Faunus hopped on his hind legs, stomping, as his feathery mane wavered.

Yet Caleb was wrenched from the saddle despite how his muscles bulged in protest, gripping the saddle like a lifeline.

He flicked loose his other rib slitter as he tumbled and lodged it true, backed up, parrying, his arms nicked and a cut to his cheek seeping blood and rolling down his lip and beard.

A guardsman grabbed him.

He twisted free. Slashed the man.

But was replaced. Again and again, until so swarmed he was inundated. His bollock dagger was confiscated and flung aside. His back sheath was unstrapped as he torqued and grunted in their grip. His dirk and sgain dubh were commandeered.

“Go inside, songbird!” he thundered, as he was piled upon, shouting and roaring.

…

She wouldn’t foking

listen!

Caleb wasn’t going to walk away unscathed. He could already tell. He hated her screams. Hated

her fear. Hated that…this might be the final thing she saw before he joined his sire through the veil to languish in purgatory, for MacGregor would be sure to make a mockery of his corpse as he had with his sire’s.

He torqued in their grip.

Peigi screamed and begged deaf ears, clenching Thomas to her like the perfect maw she would become.

To his

seed.

It gave him a sliver of peace, to ken the fruition of what he felt for her might endure—

“Donegal! I beg ye listen!” she screamed. He could see flashes of her grabbing her brother’s first in command’s livery.

A body knocked into her, throwing her—and his unborn—off balance.

A roar unleashed from Caleb’s throat. “Nay hurt my woman!”

He tore a limb free and kicked an assailant away, but a knee to his gut and his neck restrained him again.

Jossy and Peigi’s sisters were dragging her away now. But she was screaming, reaching for him, crying for him, his real

name on her lips. He loved her for it. Jesu, he wished he could have given her the world. Hated she was about to watch his execution.

So Highland fierce when she had to be but Christ he wished she’d turn away, go inside, protect her heart from MacGregor brandishing his blade above him now.

MacGregor glanced back at her, smirking, then at him again at his feet. He spat on his face.

“Yer woman, eh? Why, I have it on account that she’s naybody’s woman until she handfasts the winner on the morrow. And with ye out of the running, I suppose that will be…” MacGregor made a show of thinking. “ Me

.”

Caleb’s molars ground.

“Ye thought ye could outsmart us all these years?” MacGregor seethed victoriously, looming low in his face and voice dropping as Caleb’s arms were strangled into submission. “Nay worry, Caleb Comyn. Yer babe will nay be long for this world, either—”

His mind hazed with fury as the dagger began to ascend—

He kicked and bent in the unyielding power of so many guardsmen as a disruption caused several guards to glance over their shoulders.

Their distraction was what he needed to twist an arm free.

Slip a nearby sgian dubh from a guard’s boot.

Bring that dagger down on a nearby toe, thus gaining a window through which to twist free as his victim stepped off balance.

The ground felt like thunder rumbled within it. He had to get to his songbird. Had to protect her.

“ Peigi

!” bellowed an ear-splitting command as he shoved to his feet, heaving for air.

Seamus Grant and a team of reinforcements were charging into the yard…

His heart sank.

She’d been right to worry about Seamus as his reinforcements collided with MacGregors. He’d hoped he’d gleaned something in the man. He’d been wrong, except weapons clashed

. Shouts and swords flurried around him and a deep voice called, “Look lively, son!”

His war scythe was tossed to him by… Niall MacLeod

? Like a da to him all these years, he was still showing up to protect him yet again.

Caleb snatched the weapon out of the air and knocked away Kendrew’s dagger. Fought his way through the chaos of MacLeod men pushing back the Grant and MacGregor soldiers.

What were they doing here? Had they caught wind of this and come to confront Seamus?

He kicked MacGregor backward again, fending him off once more. He had to get to his songbird who was running into the madness, yanking her brother’s arm. Seamus pulled her back to the courtyard steps, yelling something at her.

“Seamus! Seamus! Call yer men off!” Peigi cried, making chase again.

Caleb flashed Peigi his grin and notched his chin. All will be weel, songbird

. But he had

to convince her to shield her eyes from this madness!

He dodged and shouldered aside the bodies. Snatched his woman into his arms and felt relief flood him as she gripped him, clung to him, and tangled her limbs around him…

So surreal.

He almost didn’t feel the slice as he slowed, as he staggered off step and felt his limbs loosening and slipping free from her.

He gazed at her watery eyes, where he’d always known he could die a happy man. The knife burned as it withdrew from his back.