Page 67 of Gilded Locks

Grace only realized she too was running toward the Rogue when the man turned to face her. Her hat had flown back from her head, and the string around her chin tugged at her neck.

The Rogue was too far, his face too hidden to know for sure, but Grace could have sworn that he smiled when he saw her.

In the next second, his bow was aimed at her. Training kicked in, and she darted to the left immediately. The Rogue caughtthe action and loosed the arrow as he followed her. The arrow plunged into the dirt half a foot in front of her.

Without pausing, Grace leapt over the protruding shaft.

He’d shot an arrow at her!

The Rogue had shot at her!

Well, that solved that problem. She could see James’s cruelty in the masked rebel now.

The patrolmen were a few feet from the barn, and the Rogue slid down the other side of the roof, disappearing from view.

Grace pumped her legs as fast as she could, her exhaustion forgotten. As she rounded the barn, she skidded to a stop.

Three men had the Rogue surrounded. James spun slowly, trying to keep watch on all of them.

A patrolman lunged. The Rogue darted to the side, sending a fist at the man’s jaw. The patrolman crumpled and another one attacked. Grace’s stomach lurched as strong hands seized the Rogue’s arm. Her heart hadn’t caught up with her head, still fearing for the man she’d thought she knew better.

With a graceful twisting motion, the Rogue spun his arm, and the patrolman attached skittered around, trying to follow. The disorientation left the patrolman open to a swift kick to the stomach. He fell back, releasing the Rogue’s arm. The third patrolman tried to close in on the Rogue, but the rebel dashed for Sherwood Forest.

Several patrolmen who’d come to investigate the commotion from various posts surged into the woods after the Rogue. Even the two on the floor climbed to their feet and joined the pursuit.

Grace darted for the forest, but before she could reach it, a large form barreled into her, wrapping arms about her and holding her back. She sent her elbow into her captor’s chest, but despite the grunt of pain, the strong arms kept hold.

“No, fledgling. Stay away from him.” Her father’s urgent whispers registered, and Grace realized it wasn’t an enemy restraining her.

No!her heart cried.I can’t abandon him!

Abandon him? He’d tried to kill her.

“No,” Grace said. “No.” But she wasn’t sure what she meant, just that her head and her heart were confused. She’d seen the Rogue looking at her, saw the loosed arrow coming at her.

“There are a lot of eyes, fledgling. Best to make it clear you aren’t on the Rogue’s side.”

Grace shook her head, but finally her movement calmed, though inside, she buzzed with adrenaline.

Hadn’t she just told Russell it was too dangerous to do something like this, running after the Rogue in broad daylight, surrounded by farmers and patrolmen? Curse her brother’s words. They’d frayed her resolve, and her heart had broken though the wall she’d put up to keep herself docile.

But all was not lost. He’d tried to kill her. Or injure her. “That menace! He shot at me!” Grace cried. Much as it felt freeing to let her anger and betrayal loose, she still felt like a traitor. A traitor to a man she still, illogically, cared for. A traitor to the legend that she’d idealized her entire life.

James was doing more damage than she could have imagined. The people’s hero was now the villain the mayor had claimed. Whatever hope he might have offered, it was hollow.

Grace felt the tears of anger and despair swell. But she didn’t want to cry. She wanted to shout. Both would only make her feel worse.

More patrolmen came from all around, storming into Sherwood Forest. Grace couldn’t see clearly through her teary eyes, but her already wounded heart stung worse when she realized that Garrick was one of them, out there searching on the mayor’s errand.

Ripping free of her father, Grace stomped back toward the wheat field, furious with James, furious with Garrick, furious with herself.

Here she was, teary-eyed over a man who’d tried to kill her while simultaneously cursing the one trying to catch him. And what business did her heart have aching over a Clairmont anyway?

Grace growled.

She had work to do, a harvest to finish. Her family and the people of Fidara were going to need every bit of the income the crop would bring if they were going to survive this. There was no way she was letting a Rogue and a Clairmont destroy everything she loved and had vowed to protect.

Grace snatched the arrow the Rogue had shot at her as she marched by, intent on snapping the shaft.

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