“What was that word?” Puzzlement creased his brow as his steps slowed. “Teen-age-er?”
Of course, the man missed nothing. “Yes,” she said, as if nothing was awry. “Since he is fifteen. His age is in theteens. So, he is ateenager.” She offered what she hoped was a convincing smile. “I canna remember where I heard it the first time, but it made so much sense I decided to make it my own.”
“It does make sense.” He seemed impressed.
Mila breathed a sigh of relief while inwardly thrashing herself for the careless slip. She needed to be more careful. As they entered the great hall, most, if not all, eyes swiveled to them. She swallowed hard and tried to smile, but Robbie’s wide-eyed expression told her she had failed.
Teague leaned in so close that she swore his lips brushed her ear like a lover’s nibbling. Then again, maybe it was merely the warmth of his whisper sending shivers down her spine. “Relax, m’lady,” he said softly. “They are curious because they have never seen ye before. That is all.”
His nearness released a flash of heat and shut off her ability to breathe. She cleared her throat. “I am afraid I have never been verra good with crowds.”
“’Tis a friendly crowd, though. Ye will see as ye get to know them.” He pulled out her chair and helped her scoot up to the table. Still standing beside her, he held up a hand and waited for the quiet murmuring around the tables to stop. “Allow me to introduce Lady Mila Carthson of Roxburghe and her godson, Master Robbie Abernathy.” He paused and cast a long, slow look at those gathered. “I have offered them safe haven here at Éirich. Make them welcome and treat them proper. Remember, for some of ye, it wasna so long ago that ye needed sanctuary as well, ye ken?”
Those seated agreed by banging their tankards on the table. Those standing agreed with hearty nods.
Teague took his seat beside her and motioned for their glasses to be filled. “See? All will take to ye. Just give them a bit a time.”
She smiled and sipped the wine. Platters of roasted meats, bowls of boiled and baked root vegetables, and hampers of bannocks and torn chunks of bread made it to the table. Thankfully, everyone’s focus shifted off her and to the food.
Except for one. Every time she looked up from her plate, Lizzie’s glare burned into her. The lass was as jealous as a territorial feline. Mila would have to ask Grissa about her.
“M’lady?”
“Sorry. What?” She switched her focus back to Teague, realizing too late he had said something she missed.
“Do I bore ye, m’lady?” Once again, he teased her with that deadly, charming smile.
“Not a chance.” She cast a glance around the large room filled with entirely too many people. “A feast this size is a lot to take in after today’s adventures.”
His teasing air faded, replaced with a troubled frown. “I shouldha considered such. Forgive me.” As he studied her, his worried expression became more pronounced. “Do ye wish to return to yer rooms? I can have Grissa or one of the lads bring ye anything ye like. Food. Drink.” He nodded toward the cabinet behind them. “Ye wanted whisky before. I can send that too.”
While she would have liked to accept that offer earlier, if she left now, she would surely look a coward to everyone watching. And she harbored no doubts that glowering Lizzie would do her level best to churn the waters against her. Instead, she rested a hand on his arm and smiled. A real smile from the heart. After all, this man had been nothing but kind and considerate. Or at least after he ordered them captured, he had been a generous host.
“I would be a rude guest indeed if I didna remain and enjoy this fine meal with such good company,” she said. “Please forgive my poor manners.”
His gaze dropped to her hand where it rested on his arm. That devilish smile of his returned. “Nothing to forgive, m’lady.” He lifted his glass and waited for her to do the same.
While she didn’t know what he intended to say, she couldn’t very well decline a toast after apologizing for unmannerly behavior. She raised her glass and waited.
“To the finest company I have enjoyed in a while,” he said in a voice meant for her alone. He touched his glass to hers, making them ting like a crystal bell.
“Aye,” she said. “To the finest company.” And she meant it even though she felt beyond a sliver of a doubt he was a smuggler, possibly a Jacobite, and most definitely a womanizer. She took a long, slow sip without taking her gaze from his. A rogue he might be, but he also possessed a lion’s share of kindness, caring, and generosity. Robbie was right: they had to save Teague from his fate.
Movement inside the circle of tables pulled her from the depths of Teague’s gaze and made her turn. The hairiest man she had ever seen ambled forward with a slow, unsteady gait. Wild hair pulled back in a ponytail fell past his shoulders. Tufts of coppery curls peeked through the untied throat of his tunic. His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, revealing muscular arms thatched with hair so thick and ruddy it could pass for fur. A bright smile split his auburn beard as he lifted his tankard high, sloshing the contents on the floor. “Raise yer cups, ye ungrateful lot, and celebrate the return of our mighty chief!”
“We be more grateful than yerself, Duff, and not nearly as sotted!”
The burly man staggered in a slow circle with one eye squinted shut, searching through the diners. “Dugald! Get yer cowardly arse up here and say that to my face!”
“Are they going to fight?” While Mila hoped they didn’t, at least the drunken scuffle would take the focus off her.
Teague chuckled as he settled more comfortably back in his chair. “Doubtful. Though sometimes they spar a bit. This is routine for them. Twins, ye see. Always trying to best the other. But while Dugald’s talents make him an asset during our travels, Duff’s skills serve the clan best here. Finest leatherworker the Almighty ever created.”
While keeping her focus on the grinning brothers circling each other like a pair of wrestling bears, Mila leaned closer to Teague and kept her voice low. “And what are Dugald’s talents?”
He gave a shake of his head. “Nothing I would discuss with a lady.”
“Well, that isna fair.” The words came out before she could catch them. Must be the wine and weariness loosing her tongue at both ends. Frustrated with herself, she decided to own it, since she couldn’t un-ring the bell. “Just because I am a woman doesna mean I canna understand things, ye ken?”
