Page 127 of Outlaw Ever After

“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.