Page 58 of The Swindler’s Daughter

“But what about the constables? Do you think they’ll cause problems with the peddlers and performers? They’ll be here an entire week. It’s hard to believe Reeve’s greed could be kept under control for so long with that many new victims about.”

“You have a point,” Rowan conceded. “On the other hand, I think the main reason Reeve has been so bold here is because we’re isolated. He’s the highest authority here. If he ends up causing problems for the peddlers, then that news will spread as they go from village to village.”

“So then can’t we use the festival rats to pass on the information?” I suggested.

He thought on that for a moment, twirling an arrow in one hand. “I suppose. It would only be considered rumor, but it’s certainly better than nothing.”

“We could encourage all those who attend to speak loudly and often about the magistrate’s abuses to any of the peddlers who will listen,” I said.

Tyson and John looked at one another. “Do you think it would work?” Tyson asked. “Sure, people gossip, but how far could it really get? And will it reach the right ears?”

“It’s better than nothing,” Rowan said, sitting forward.

“Unless the lawmen overhear people slandering them,” I said when the idea popped into my head. “And end up punishing people for it.”

We all looked at each other with worry. We had no idea how far Reeve was willing to take his abuse of power. Punishing someone for slander seemed well within the realm of possibility.

Rowan stood and brushed off his trousers. “That’s a real concern.”

“Hushed whispers, then?” I suggested. “We’ll turn it into compelling gossip. Maybe that will make it more intriguing and cause it to travel faster.”

“It’s worth a shot,” Rowan said as he nocked an arrow and then let it fly toward the target, which was fifteen paces away and at an angle. He still hit the bullseye.

“Show-off,” John muttered and then smacked Tyson’s shoe. “Time to get back to work,” he said as he climbed to his feet.

“What?” Tyson groused. “Are you afraid the duke is going to show up to examine the gardens?”

“No.” John’s voice was matter-of-fact. “I’m afraid I’ll get a tongue-lashing from the housekeeper.”

Tyson grumbled but followed John toward Bridgefield.

Oliver sighed. “I suppose that means I should get back to work.”

“You love your work,” I reminded him.

He gave me a look. “I love exercising the horses. No one loves mucking stalls.”

I grinned. “Fair enough.”

He gave a wave as he wandered off, and suddenly I found myself alone with Rowan. He stood just a couple paces away, fiddling with his arrow.

I came to my feet, keeping the tree at my back for support as a wave of shyness washed over me. “Emeline probably needs me back in the kitchen.”

Rowan looked up at me and my stomach clenched. There was no denying the heat in his eyes as he stepped over to me. “You have to go now?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t have to.”

He came even closer with a smile and set a hand at my waist. “Are you nervous, Miri?”

I nodded. No use denying it.

“I don’t want to make you nervous,” he said as his thumb stroked my hip.

That one little gesture made my knees melt, but I managed to find my voice. “It’s not a bad nervous.”

A huge grin split his face and he had to look away for a moment before returning his gaze to me. “I’m glad to hear it.”

I hoped he would take the hint and lean in to kiss me, but he didn’t.