Page 93 of Outlaw Ever After

Alex had learned from Peigi that her clan had ailed for coin over the years. Surplus money was hard to come by, when an estate cost much just to maintain, and Seamus controlled two castles.

“Aye, but defending Scotland against the Sassenach Henry VIII and Highland warring has been expensive and the Crown is ailing for coin. I sent a runner to the city last night with questions and he returned this eve. My brother says the treasury is cracking down and the comptroller’s first order of business is to review charters made by the late King James V. If this comptroller is the outlaw, then he found a way to retaliate and see yer charter rescinded, until he realized the castle was up for grabs.”

Seamus was pacing in and out of view through the crack in the sideboard as MacGregor continued.

“I saw him at Lughnasadh, working for MacLeod of the Hebrides.”

Seamus, seemingly thinking, said, “Aye, ye said he’s the MacLeod’s Reaper?”

“The moment he arrived yesterday, I recognized him. He was the Demon of the Seas’ cocksure warrior, delivering final judgment on his victims with that war scythe.”

They could think that if they wanted. It’s what everyone thought. Even if contrarily, Alex rarely took a life. Death was final, and a wrongful death couldn’t be undone once delivered. He should know.

“Nay difficult to see why Arran wanted to hire him, as subduing the Highlanders is proving easier when he brings them into the fold instead of waging war on them.”

“We all ken MacLeod’s reputation as a warmonger,” MacGregor sneered.

“Tormund?” There was surprise in Seamus’s reaction. “I used to think so, too, but nay be too hasty to judge, my friend. MacLeod is afeared aye, and yet, he’s proving to be a loyal ally to my brother-in-law, James MacDonald, the two of whom were once bitter enemies.”

Alex’s ears perked at Seamus’s opposing response. Odd for him to be so levelheaded.

“In fact, according to MacDonald and Aileana, MacLeod is innocent of the crimes MacDonald once believed him guilty of. They’ve forged a reconciliation, as have I with him. No surprise why Arran wants them both at his peace summit.”

“Are ye suggesting ye might…trust the MacLeod?” There was an edge of shock in MacGregor’s voice.

“I nay ken him enough to judge his character. But I trust MacDonald’s judgment, and he stands by MacLeod publicly. If MacLeod once employed this Stewart fellow, we might be wise to ken his reasons.”

MacGregor scoffed, then it looked as if…he pulled out a parchment? He handed it to Seamus. Through the crack, it was hard to decipher in their feeble light but looked an awful lot like…the soft green ribbon Alex had sealed around a missive for his songbird.

“Then judge that.” MacGregor tapped it proudly. “It seems our comptroller wooed yer sister and promised to handfast her. Left her love missives like this one begging her to wait an extra sennight for him because he was taking up an employ in Edinburgh.”

MacGregor had found and stolen the missive he’d left for Peigi? His blood raged fire. It meant MacGregor had seen them stealing away to their secret greenwood…

What had she said as she’d helped him yestereve? That MacGregor had told her everyone had left? He’d lied to her. If he’d stolen Alex’s missive, then he’d…let her believe she’d been abandoned. And it had precipitated a maelstrom of hurt—

“What the hell is this?” Seamus snapped angrily. “Where did ye get this?”

MacGregor’s composure crumbled to anger. “I give ye damning evidence that that Stewart bastard ye think is the outlaw has wooed yer sister, and ye yell at me ?”

“Ye’ve had this for three bloody months and never gave it to me?”

“I nay believe this,” MacGregor fumed, tossing up his arms. “It’s nay as if I see ye every day.”

“Ye were right there at the faire with me with this in hand!”

Seamus paced angrily away, whipping open the missive to read it again, slowly scouring his jaw, when he seemed to freeze in thought. Seemed to be thinking hard on something that wasn’t on the parchment. Finally, he spoke, but it was eerily composed and measured as he turned back to MacGregor.

“My apologies.”

“Apology accepted,” MacGregor softened smugly. “I should have softened the blow. She is, after all, yer beloved sister.”

“Ye think he wanted this castle all along?” Seamus said.

“Likely he was always angling for it, and using Peigi. Is that nay the feeling ye get?”

The lies MacGregor was filling Seamus’s head with.

“Feelings are nay enough to go on,” Seamus said cryptically.