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A cough from behind them interrupted their kiss.
Both of them craned their heads backward.
Falsted stood, holding a bundle of clothes in his arms, his face red with splotches and a sheen of perspiration glistening across his forehead. Apparently, the man didn’t run very often.
“This clothing should do you well for the journey back to Wolfbridge.”
Sloane’s arm went across her breasts. She was covered enough by Reiner’s waistcoat, but she wasn’t about to take any chances where Falsted was concerned.
Reiner flicked a finger toward him. “Set it there and go. My horse is still on the other side of the cove?”
“It is.”
“Have my men caught up with us yet?” He looked to Sloane. “Two horses went down in the salt marshes leading out here, so they were riding double.”
Falsted shook his head. “Not as of yet.” He set the pile of clothing on the ground, quickly turning to leave.
“Falsted, before you think to exit.”
He turned back to them, his eyebrows lifting.
Reiner inclined his head toward Sloane. “Tell her.”
Falsted’s mouth opened and closed several times, looking at Reiner before his gaze shifted to Sloane. “I keep multiple copies of every contract I make with partners.”
Her eyebrows drew together and she looked at Reiner.
Reiner’s voice went hard. “The rest.”
Falsted sighed. “The additional contracts are altered to cover any eventuality—reflect what I actually do. It appears as though my partners sign off on everything I do to fulfill the contracts.”
“You mean…” She glanced from Falsted to Reiner.
“I never signed off on clearing the Swallowford lands,” Reiner said. “Neither did my man. I had him triple check my copies with his staff.”
Falsted nodded and quickly turned and started a retreat.
“Falsted.” Reiner’s voice echoed, bouncing along the sand dunes surrounding them.
Falsted slowed and half turned back to Reiner.
“You are not clear of this.”
“No.” Falsted shook his head. “But I do expect leniency, as you have your wife sitting, healthy and alive next to you.”
No. Hell no.
In one quick motion, Sloane grabbed the dagger secured around Reiner’s calf and twisted, scrambling to her toes even though the instant, vicious pain from her feet threatened to send her to her knees. “No, you bloody bastard. You don’t get away that easily. Reiner may not see fit to gut you, but I am another matter.”
Reiner chuckled and grabbed her wrist just before she was out of reach. He pulled her back, tugging her downward onto her knees.
The chuckle left his lips as he impaled Falsted with a fatal stare. “You’ve been warned, Falsted. Your next choices in life will determine what happens next. And that threat extends to any of the clearings you may have planned on Scottish soil. Halt them now, for you don’t want to make either my wife, or me, come after you looking for blood.”
Falsted’s jaw dropped. For a second, bitter chagrin overtook his face, but then he shook his head, a tight smile coming to his lips. He inclined his head to them. “Your grace.” He turned and hastily started up the back edge of the sand.
On her knees, Sloane stared at the sniveling coward until he disappeared over the top line of the cove. She stuck the blade into the sand next to her and shifted onto her backside, facing her husband. “How could you let him go?”
Reiner shrugged. “I’m feeling generous?”
