Page 65 of Outlaw Ever After

She shook her head, and was that “Such a show off…” he’d just seen her say? “Of course I nay care.”

Lyre , he mouthed, earning a lift of her eyes. But she wasn’t fooling him now. I saw ye worried, songbird. A seed of something took flame in his chest… Hope?

“Strike two!” Aulay bellowed. The crowd roared and argued.

“Ye seem fond of the lady, Sir Alexander,” Graham said. “But ye ken what I heard?”

Alexander continued his stalking. “Nay a clue, man. I sup with gentlemen, nay gossip mongers.”

Graham’s eyes narrowed. Graham was going to tell him what he’d heard anyway.

“Word upon the highroad is that Lady Peigi needs a fast engagement. With nary a question asked. What man wouldna legitimize her if this castle is his prize?”

“And that matters because?”

Graham lifted his next burning stick. “Because according to the whispers, a man would be getting spoiled goods—” He flung it.

Alex ducked away, his gaze training murderously upon Graham.

He ducked a fourth and fifth stick as Graham rushed to pick them up again. Sidestepped a sixth as he stalked toward the bastard who spewed judgment with the pious Luther rose about his finger. Pious, the Reaper’s outlawed arse. But Christ, her whisper that she had no honor…

Not honorable?

In a world where a Marquess’s sister could be valued at only eight stone of wool because she was no longer pure, he was beginning to understand the shame she’d carried, not just these past months, but perhaps years, without her brother knowing.

A noble lady’s reputation was her one treasure, and without it, she had little value in the eyes of the law.

There was more honor in one strand of her hair than there could ever be in him, dishonorable as he was. Always be honest with me…

He leapt over a seventh stick to rising laughter from beyond the bunting as villagers cheered and Graham tired himself out.

Graham’s confidence turned to frustration as what had seemed easy suddenly became hard. His flaming stick spun toward Alex’s face. Peigi gripped her cheeks in his side view as—

Alex snatched the burning stick from the air.

Snatched a second one, speed and agility pumping his blood.

Peigi was standing now, white-knuckling the support post and not even attempting to hide her worry, fear etched on her face.

He snagged a third from the air. Ah, foolish Laird Graham. A strong offense was usually the best strategy. Unless offense was defensive.

Because now the game was truly on.

…

Peigi covered her eyes. Splayed her fingers so she could see. Fury had narrowed Alex’s emeralds, heating the sparkle to a flame. What had been said between these men a moment ago?

Alex stalked toward Graham as if the very Reaper had come to collect a soul. Graham backed up a step, then another, as Alex lifted a burning stick…

Took aim…

And juggled them!

Laughter pealed through the crowd. Heart in her throat, her hands dropped, eyes widened, and a laugh puffed over her lips.

Alex trotted to the base of her dais, as if he were her personal jester, gazing up at her so boyishly, making a mockery of Graham’s hard-fought efforts. This was the playful lad she’d fallen for with that lopsided grin that not only met his eyes, but disarmed her with their charm, as if it pleased him to have pleased her . As if he wanted her affection. Wanted her to remember .

And yet, that darkness that had descended upon him at whatever Graham had said wasn’t gone. It was there, lurking beneath the sparkle, as he swung one under his leg and caught it in perfect synchrony with the others.