Page 71 of Outlaw Ever After

Wait, Joslyn spoke of this love as if it already existed, not of some suitor who had yet to stake a claim. The only men here she’d met more than once were Kendrew MacGregor, far more than thrice; Laird Graham once before at Lughnasadh when he’d tried to betroth himself to her; and Alex, whom she’d only known since Lughnasadh, too.

“Who here have ye met thrice?” Aileana said.

Peigi carried the stalks to the portico with Calum on her arm, sliding them like a bouquet among the corn dolls over the doorway, and had just returned to the others when that draft intensified, flickering the candelabra.

Peigi shivered. Did no one else feel this chill? It never seemed as if they did. Except Joslyn, who eyed her, rubbing her gooseflesh with her free hand. Then her gaze lifted to Peigi’s. She smiled knowingly.

A deep voice cleared as…Alex pushed through the door!

He froze in mid swing, portfolio in hand and Seamus behind him, taking in the scene of ladies in front of him, bracing the grooves of the masoned frame as if swinging beneath a yardarm.

Their eyes locked as he stood to full height, finally crossing the threshold, Seamus coming in behind him.

“Apologies for the intrusion, sister,” Seamus said, tight-lipped. “We can return later, Mister Stewart.”

The women’s mouths gawped wide. Then they erupted with glee, pointing at the doorway—save the ladies MacGregor and Graham—and Alex, glancing up at the oat stalks, seemed to realize he’d just walked into something. He hitched up his chin, that divot popping in his cheek as that damning shiver of premonition curled through Peigi’s belly.

Silly. He just opened the door. The draft was him. It was a coincidence that he’d come to this chamber right now on his treasury business, wasn’t it?

His eyes dipped to the babe in her arm. Pain lanced so suddenly, she gasped for air.

She jostled Calum back into Aileana’s hands, excusing herself from the chamber amid their teasing through the adjoining door to the lady’s chamber.

“Peigi, wait…” Aileana called at her back.

Chapter Twenty-Two

She hurried into the corridor down the stairs, the wolfhound trotting behind her like a shadow.

“Songbird!” Alex called at her back, but she kept pattering, blinking at the lightheadedness that seemed wont to assail her.

“Come back here, Alexander,” Seamus rumbled in the distance.

“Nay, Seamus, leave them be…” Aileana and Elizabeth’s voices echoed until she could hear no more.

Across the boisterous hall she dashed. Into the kitchens. The conversation and clanking among the servants was jovial, when she heard chatter about the…Laird?

Attention turned to her. The chattering ceased. Happy smiles fell, replaced with guardedness lingering in the air between them. Alex wasn’t behind her anymore. Had Seamus caught up to him?

Peigi nodded to them with her practiced smile, belying the tumult within, to ease their worry. They were, after all, creating this feast for the daughter of their conqueror, and would never care for her if they feared her censure.

“It smells delicious,” she said.

The scents of the feast were savory. Loaves were piled high in a basket.

“Are these for the village?”

The baker nodded to her question and she picked up the basket and woven lid, wedging it against her hip.

Scullery maids returned to chopping vegetables, and meats were turned on the spits by serving lads in silence.

“Mi lady.” Maids curtsied as she passed.

“How does yer dress suit, eh, Francine, right?”

“Aye, mi lady, and I love it so—” A maid jabbed Francine to silence her gratitude on a frown.

Francine, in the flaxen dress Peigi had given her that morn tied up between her legs, fell quiet. Her other had torn and Peigi’d overheard her lamenting that she had none other to wear while repairs were made.