Page 54 of Outlaw Ever After

“A minor sum.”

“How do ye define minor, man? Do ye hope to pawn off a sinking ship?” Alexander winked, elbowing Seamus, if only to further irritate him. Judging by the tick to Seamus’s jaw, it was working. “Ye sly cur. And here I am, to investigate yer debt. As a law pupil, I once argued a marquess’s contract who’d valued his sisters in a hierarchy of how many sheep they were worth. The most beloved was worth a herd of one hundred head, the least useful sister valued at only eight stone of wool. But Christ, a debt ?” He smirked. “Lady Peigi must mean the world to ye.”

“It’s nay her fault she was put in this position,” Seamus growled as his brown eyes locked on Alex’s.

He set down his pen, parchment unsigned.

Interesting. Marrying off his dishonored sister might protect her, but offering this castle seemed to offload Seamus’s final debt to the crown, too. Seamus was no fool, he’d give him that.

“Are ye to sign it or nay?” Seamus grumbled with increasing agitation.

Alex folded his arms. “I’m nay signing shite until I ken more about yer debt.”

“Then ye’re nay participating.” Seamus made to sweep up the parchment but Alex whipped it away first, his face turning to stone as he jabbed a finger toward Seamus.

“Then yer entire bride tourney is void. I’m returning to the crown with this advertisement for the tourney and said contract in hand…” He shimmied it for emphasis, taunting Seamus, then turned to throw his things back in his satchel, swinging it over his good shoulder. “…to show the Archbishop exactly what scheme ye play at—”

“Nay.” Seamus hastened, jolting toward him.

Alex whirled around, rib slitter flicking loose. “Nay come at me, man, unless ye wish to share in this eve’s bloodletting.”

Seamus held up his palms and stopped. “I mean no harm…this time.” He smirked.

“Then ye’d better explain. Because as I see it, I arrive to audit yer debts to find ye offering a contract to bequeath an undisclosed financial concern to an unsuspecting winner, a scheme which stinks of foul play—”

“The debt will be moot once the contest is through. I swear it.”

“How?” demanded Alex, slowly sheathing his blade.

“With the contestants’ entry fees… I nay gain a single benefit off my sister’s marriage. At six pounds an entrant, ’twill total sixty pounds, and goes to the winner. ’Twill be enough for the inheritor to pay the final outstanding debt.”

Alex’s eyes bounced back and forth between Seamus’s brown ones. Soft brown behind his armored glare, like his sister’s, he realized. This villain, who’d once tied Alex behind his horse and forced him to jog to his granary, at least on this account, was being honorable. He’d paid off three sixty-pound debts over the years, according to the records. It wasn’t as if he had a history of evading his debts. Just stretching out repayment as long as possible.

Alex’s jaw pumped. He still had a job to do, personal revenge aside.

“Ye go before the Archbishop, man. I’ve come to summon ye.”

“And I ask for three days, to let me complete this tourney first.”

Why the hell should Alex accommodate him? He opened his mouth to rebuke him—

“For my sister’s sake. For her honor . This castle…it’s the only dowry I can provide her. As ye ken from yer parchments, reaves have cost me much over the years. I’m barely breaking even.”

At Seamus’s accusatory emphasis and hard glare, the heated words forming on Alex’s tongue cooled. For Peigi’s honor. He owed her that much. He knew the reaves were true. Had seen how they haunted his songbird’s gaze and blemished her fingers.

“And then her new husband”—said with barely leashed sarcasm, for the implication was clear that Seamus did not wish the new husband to be him —“can accompany me to make the final repayment in full to the Archbishop himself. And Peigi can live on in relative security here.” His brow contorted in the closest semblance to pain that Seamus might be capable of making. “God kens my sister deserves at least that, for what she’s suffered.”

How had she suffered? Aside from her obvious emotional wound, surely there had been another reason she’d convalesced at the Abbey. Jesu. He scoured his face and exhaled. How the hell was Seamus managing to extort sympathy from him ?

He paced, weighing each choice. If by some chance, another won the tourney and was able to repay the debt immediately, the Earl of Arran would likely honor them as the new stewards of his birthright and he’d never regain it. However, if he dragged Seamus to court now, before the sixty pounds was his to spend, the castle would be stripped from Seamus. But at what cost? He’d not be married to Peigi. Did she even want to be to him? And no way in the Devil’s inferno would Seamus betroth her to him. He’d just fok himself.

He scoured his jaw again. The only way for him to get both was to win.

“Nay make me beg,” Seamus gritted so softly, Alex barely heard him.

He exhaled. “Shite…”

For years , he’d dreamed of sinking a dirk into this bastard’s chest and now, when he finally had Seamus by the bollocks, he…couldn’t. This was his home. But it was also his songbird’s sole livelihood. He…couldn’t deprive her of it.