Page 66 of Outlaw Ever After

Nay… Graham was stalking up behind him. Her smile fell.

Graham’s dirk unsheathed from his belt. His arm raised. Ready to fling. Nay! Bloodshed was forbidden! They’d all agreed to good sporting when they’d signed their contracts!

Warnings roared from the spectators. She looked to Seamus! Would he not say something? She threw her hand over her mouth and pointed, as Alex laughed and juggled and showed off, oblivious to the impending threat. A cry welled up her throat.

“Alex! Ale—”

He whirled around.

One! Two! Three!

He pelted each burning stick in such rapid succession, pummeling Graham as if throwing battle axes.

Graham’s tunic caught flame. He screamed as his dagger dropped. He batted his sleeve. Laughter, shouts, and pleas swirled as Aulay ran for a bucket of water.

Peigi hoisted up her drapery of velvets and dashed down the stairs. Except Alex dragged the tunic over Graham’s head, dropped it to the dirt, and stomped it out.

Graham’s panic eased as he realized he’d been saved. And then, he scrambled for his dropped knife—

The toe of Alex’s boot came down upon the blade, pinning it. He swiped it up and stabbed the smoking tunic upon it, holding it high for all to see.

Then he slung a fraternal arm around Graham, pulling him close as he bellowed, “And that , good folk, is why we always stripped to our birthday skin to play Burning Sticks! And ye all thought I wished merely to impress the lady!”

Laughter guffawed. Joslyn was smiling at him. Aulay grinned as the other contestants eagerly stripped their tunics and coats.

…

Peigi shook her head, hating that she’d laughed, as Alex grinned proudly back at her, when his declaration that he’d played this as a bairn rolled curiously through her mind.

She’d picked local games when designing this tourney. Was he from this region?

A sense of intuition washed over her: he’d garnered big smiles from Joslyn, somehow had repaired her lyre with tools he couldn’t possibly have had upon him, and had somehow gotten outside before her brother…

She couldn’t put her finger upon it. She bit her lip at the uncertainty she saw flit across his eyes. He wanted her attention, as if to remind her of how he’d once been able to make her laugh. But could she go back in time? Could she pretend the past hadn’t happened?

She was now embroiled in this tourney. She couldn’t just rescind herself, could she? Did she even want to?

Aulay lifted his horn. “Laird Graham is out!”

Alex turned to his crowd, arms wide in shameless victory, just like he had at the summer games, basking in their adoration as he dragged Graham down and up with him in a bow before tugging him close to murmur something in his ear.

Graham’s face paled as Alex released him on a jolt.

Sakes, she’d fallen so hard for him. But that fall had hurt and had left bruises that might never heal. Now he was here, vying for these lands and castle like all the others, while proclaiming he was still the same man who wanted a simple life. She couldn’t let memories of those sweet moments cloud her judgment: the sincerity he’d worn as he’d given her his mother’s ring, the desperate pleas for her to sing, the way every time she looked at him, he was looking at her.

Alex turned back to the crowd and rubbed his hands. “All right, will no man give me a worthy competition?”

The contestants silenced, as if suddenly remembering that he was an adversary, not an entertainer.

Alex’s smile widened. He’d said he was going to win. She was beginning to believe he might.

Chapter Twenty-One

“That smile!”

“Such a rogue…”

“Can ye imagine if he’d truly stripped, like he’d taunted…”