Page 133 of Outlaw Ever After

“I had no choice. He carried with him the clout of the Earl of Arran.”

“Bale is here? Where?”

She shoved away from Seamus and hastened for the door. Down the winding stairs, down to the guest chambers, down the corridor and more stairs to the solar.

“Peigi, stop…” Seamus was chasing.

Nay, she was no longer a meek lass afraid of a confrontation. A murderer had been on the loose for years, tormenting her dreams, and she was determined to shine a candle on his soul. She dare not leave Caleb, lest he take his final breath without her there to hold him across the veil, but when she heard voices arguing from behind the solar door, she banged it open.

The chamber silenced.

She’d been here once before, MacGregors arguing about a castle while the true laird lay dying.

She surveyed the chamber until she stopped on one blue eye…one green. Bale MacGregor.

Her gaze bored into him as the past rushed back.

“And ye are?” he said dourly as Seamus stormed in behind her.

“Peigi, slow down.”

But the man’s face curled into a smile. “Lady Peigi.”

Kendrew stood there, too, rubbing sore wrists from what she suspected had been bindings.

“We’ve vied for this,” Kendrew said, moving beside her brother. “Ye have the outlaw in the other chamber. Let us finish this! Ye went for reinforcements and yet once more get cold feet about following through.”

“Because those reinforcements were nay for the outlaw’s capture,” Seamus rumbled, his eyes leveling on Kendrew. “They were for capturing the true traitor.”

Her brother…had believed her? Peigi’s thoughts reeled. Was that why he’d so quietly departed? He’d gone to bring back strength against MacGregor? Not even telling her the reason why, to protect his motives?

Tormund and James had been at Court for the peace talks with the Earl of Arran…

“Ye turned traitor, Sir MacGregor,” Peigi said. “When ye lied about my missive. All these years ye filled Seamus’s head with lies.”

Kendrew rounded on her, jabbing his finger, and this time, Seamus, MacLeod, and MacDonald postured forward, hands teasing hilts. “Peigi—”

“Lady ,” she corrected. She was not informal with this man.

His jaw ticked and he composed himself. “Lady Peigi, I have only ever protected ye.”

“Ye deceived me. To entrap me.” As Caleb had figured out.

Kendrew laughed. “Peigi, I ken ye nay wish to marry me. But ye agreed to this bride tourney. Ye put yerself on this pedestal, nay me. I’m the last man standing. Ye must handfast me.”

“I refuse,” Peigi croaked.

“I’ll argue it to the top. And cost yer brother heavy coin to dispute me, which I’m aware is hard for him to come by. ’Twould be a shame to make yer people suffer over this.”

“I will nay be forced to consort with murderers.” She lifted her chin.

Bale’s eyes met hers. “Ye have no proof.”

“I am the proof, Laird MacGregor,” she argued, glancing to his hand, where just as she feared and suspected sat that damning ring. His war trophy. “I saw ye wearing this ring when you killed my sire.”

Bale’s jaw ticked. She firmed her jaw as the rest of the chamber’s attention turned to her.

“Ye ken nay of what ye speak. Ye were only a bairn.”