“Sorry.” Torchlight revealed Robbie’s hurt expression as he retreated a step. “I thought ye heard me walk up.”
Teague eyed the boy’s feet. “Those feckin’ shoes of yers are quiet. Where did ye come by them?” As the lad hesitated to answer, he shook a finger within inches of his nose. “And dinna lie. Ye nay stole them, as ye said about that otherworldly tunic ye wore when we found ye.”
The youngling’s gaze dropped to the borrowed clothing that made him look like one of the clan. Worn, yellowed léine. Faded trews hitting him just below the knees. And then those feckin’ black cloth shoes with the bright yellow stripes and soles.
He shrugged. “Mi got them for me. For my birthday. I been wanting a pair for a while.”
Teague folded his arms across his chest and studied the youngling. He hadn’t lied, but neither had he answered. “Wheredid she buy them?”
Eyes wide with obviously feigned innocence, Robbie shrugged again. “Some shop in Edinburgh. I dinna ken which one.” He eased away, sidestepping to make his escape. “I best be going now. Mi’s done gone up to bed. But I am sure she willna sleep till she knows I am safe in mine.”
Teague found that believable but also disappointing. He had hoped to spend more time with the lovely lady before the day ended. “I shall escort ye to yer rooms, aye?”
“Uhm…okay.”
“Okay?”
Robbie’s eyes flared even wider. “Uhm…yes, sir?”
Teague scrubbed a hand across his eyes, then let it wearily drop. “That is not what I meant, boy. What is that word?Okay?”
The lad visibly relaxed. “It means agreement. Likeall rightoraye.”
“Yerself and yer godmother come out with the strangest words.” He clapped hold of the boy’s shoulder and steered him to the stairwell, ignoring everyone they passed.
“Why are ye mad?” Robbie asked as they climbed the steps.
“I have not lost my mind. Yet. Although I am sure there are some who would argue the point.”
“I meanangry. Not insane.”
One of the boy’s shoes emitted a strange squeak with every step. Teague found it mildly annoying. “I am not angry. I am travel-weary and also tired of sorting through lies.”
“Oh.”
“Oh is right,” Teague said. “Would ye care to help me with my sorting?”
“What do ye mean?”
“Ye know verra well what I mean. Dinna play the numpty with me.”
Robbie came to a halt and stared at his feet. “I would rather ye asked Mi.” He turned and made what felt like defiant eye contact. “Just remember the only reason either of us answers anything the way we do is ’cause we are afraid, ye ken?”
“How can I make ye understand I would never hurt either of ye?” Teague tried to understand the emotions playing across the boy’s face and failed.
Robbie didn’t respond. Just returned to climbing the steps. In silence.
They reached their floor without another word between them. As soon as Teague opened the door to their suite of rooms, Robbie bolted across the sitting room, charged into his bedchamber, and slammed the door behind him.
“What did ye do to him?” Cold, dark accusation dripped from Mila’s tone. She charged forward, both hands fisted as though ready for battle. “Answer me!”
It was the first time he had ever been so insulted and aroused at the same time. “I did nothing to the lad.” He jabbed a finger at the bedroom door. “Call him out here and ask.”
Relentless, she took another step toward him. “If ye did nothing, then why is he upset? What happened downstairs?”
“Enough with yer games. Who are ye, Mila?” He closed the remaining distance between them, standing so close he felt the heat of her motherly outrage. “The truth this time, if ye please.”
Her fists tightened, and her chin rose in defiance. “I already told ye. Are ye cursed with some ailment that makes ye forgetful?”
