“I wish I could say they werenae,” Tam grimaced. “They are dangerous places to be.”
“So, Billie, is there anythin’ ye can do to defend yerself?” Dearg sat forward, leaning on the table and fixing the boy with a stare. Billie looked down at his own body for a minute before flicking his gaze back up to Dearg, as if to silently ask what kind of thing Dearg was expecting of a boy his size to do. “Aye, I ken we can hardly expect ye to win a bare-knuckle bout but is there anythin’ ye can do?”
At that moment, Camden and Aiden returned from their work with the horses. They sat down on either side of Dearg, both tired with their expressions lighting up when they realized the topic of conversation.
“We talkin’ of defense?” Camden asked. “Daenae bother the lad, Dearg. He’s as fragile as a young lass.”
Erskine saw Billie flinch at his side. The words grated against Erskine. Had he been in Billie’s position, he would have been just as frustrated—the lad could not help being born with a delicate stature. To be laughed at for it, though? Well, it was hardly fair. Erskine opened his mouth to say something, to put an end to the teasing, but he faltered, seeing Dearg was staring at him, waiting with expectation for Erskine to leap to Billie’s defense yet again.
Ah, I cannae say anythin’ if I wish Dearg to desist with his jests.
“As fragile?” Dearg laughed. “I am afraid I have seen many women in me life who could probably beat poor Billie in a fight.” Camden and Aiden laughed heartily at the idea. “What of old Magret? The healer by the castle’s wall? Built like a bear, that woman! If I ever saw Billie and her in a bare-knuckle bout, me money would be on Magret.” The laughter grew worse.
“In the name of the wee man,” Erskine could not hold his tongue anymore. “The lad is hardly a soldier, is he? We four grew up as soldiers, Dearg. There is a difference.”
“A big difference. Ye cannae expect the same thing from Billie as ye do us,” Tam concluded, also standing up for Billie. Erskine knew Tam had met the hardships of war more than any other man around the table. He and Tam had fought side by side in the Jacobite battles, facing down foes together, and there was no one he trusted more in a fight. It relieved him to see that someone as level-headed as Tam was also sticking up for Billie.
“I ken,” Dearg was trying to stop his laughter, practically wiping tears away from his eyes with the backs of his hands. “All I am sayin’ is that the lad will be dead weight on the dark roads. Look at him, built like a lass.”
That appeared to be the final straw. Erskine jumped in surprise as Billie stood to his feet.
“Just because I am not built like you, Dearg does not mean I’m any less capable of looking out for myself. I am going to order some food,” he said simply, pulling his jacket tightly around his body and pulling his hat low as he crossed the room of the tavern.
Strange, I have never seen the lad without that cap.
“Ah, sensitive tonight, isnae he?” Dearg continued.
“He’s a boy, Dearg. Nae yet a man,” Erskine stood too, preparing to follow Billie.
“How old is Billie?” Tam looked up, making Erskine hesitate before following.
“I daenae ken, I havenae asked,” he shrugged and carved the same path through the tables Billie had taken. Erskine had no idea how old the lad was, but at the very least, he had to be about twenty, just a late bloomer when it came to a man’s build. It was the face that made him seem so young. Those petite features were rarely seen on a man of greater years.
He found Billie standing by the bar of the inn, leaning across the surface and waiting for the innkeeper to take his order. He was constantly fidgeting with his hat as though trying to hide his face. Erskine expected he was trying to hide his embarrassment.
“Ye remember when I said ye have to ignore Dearg?” Erskine’s voice made Billie look up in surprise as he leaned on the bar beside him. “I feel I should now extend that warnin’ to Camden and Aiden too.”
“Those two seem to partake in whatever jest he is pursuing,” Billie was still fiddling with the cap, looking down away from him.
“They follow the crowd, that is all,” Erskine shrugged, as though it did not matter. “Billie,” he waited until Billie looked up. The cap was now so low that the boy’s eyes were completely hidden. Erskine had such an urge to remove the hat, to see the lad’s face completely—he resisted the idea, but not enough. His hand still rose to the boy’s cap and lifted it a little, revealing those bright blue eyes. “Ye all right, laddie?”
“Yes,” he replied, with those eyes holding his gaze.
How can those eyes be on a boy?
They were too delicate, with long lashes and a color so bright that Erskine was a little blindsided. Realizing he had grown distracted, admiring the boy when he should not be, he released Billie’s hat and lowered his hands down to the bar, determined not to touch any of Billie’s clothing again. He had never felt interested in anyone but a woman before. The fact that Billie was eliciting those sorts of feelings was beginning to make him despair.
I daenae ken meself.
An errant idea occurred to Erskine, and he looked around the bar, allowing his gaze to dance across the other figures there. In particular, he looked at the men, trying to see if any other face there elicited the feelings that Billie did, but it was no use. He felt nothing. Had it not been for Billie at his side, he would have still thought he could only ever have an interest in women.
I daenae have an interest in the boy! He is just… well, he is just…
As he tried to reason the idea in his head, he felt something tug at his belt. He looked down in alarm, amazed and startled to see Billie had a hand on the leather belt.
“What are ye —”
“The pistol,” Billie murmured calmly, with his hand on the flintlock pistol. “Can I hold it?”
