Chapter Five
Annie glanced sideways at Niall for at least the fifth time in their walk back to the boardinghouse. She had fully expected him to be tossing critical remarks about her working, but instead he had remained stonily silent. Even his face looked like it was carved from granite. His mouth was set, his jaw jutted forward, and his eyes looked like flint. She sighed.
“Ye might as well come out with it.”
“Come out with what?”
It was amazing that his lips hardly moved with the question. Annie was tempted to look around to see if someone else had uttered the words. “Ye ken what.”
“I ken nothing.”
Annie stopped, her hands on her hips. “Now ye are being stubborn, to boot.”
Niall halted as well. “’Tis a trait we share.”
“’Tis nae the point,” Annie replied. “Come out with what ye have to say.”
“Nae.” He started walking again.
Annie caught up with him. “Aye.”
He stared stoically ahead. “What would ye have me say, lass? Ye ken I doona think it good that ye are working in a man’s environment with nae protection.”
“I have a right to have a job!” To her frustration, Niall didn’t answer, only picked up his pace. Annie glared at his back. Did he have to walk so fast? “Ye might be proud of me for landing the position.”
That stopped him. He turned, a quizzical expression on his face. “This has nae to do with being proud of ye. ’Tis your safety I am concerned with.”
Annie shook her head. “We have been over this protection idea before. Ye already insist on escorting me to and from theplace. What harm can come to me in a warehouse full of working men?”
One black brow went up. “Ye are nae that naïve, are ye?”
Annie felt her face flush, partly from the insinuation and partly from anger. If only Niall knew how very much aware she was of allowing herself to be in a position where a man could take advantage. That was not going to happen again. “I am nae a nitwit nor am I planning to loiter in the dark corners of the warehouse like some doxy.”
Niall blinked. “Now ye have given me another concern for my list.”
“Yourlist?” Annie narrowed her eyes. “I should have kenned. ’Tis nae like ye to be so compliant. Ye’ve been thinking up reasons for me nae to take this job.”
He frowned. “I doona need to think up reasons. They all stand out, clear as words on paper.”
She scowled. “Then read this imaginary paper to me since I fail to see it.”
Niall folded his arms across his chest, which made him seem bigger and more imposing. Annie was sure he did such a thing on purpose and drew herself up to her full height, crossing her arms too. “Well?”
He glanced down at her stance and a corner of his mouth quirked. He relaxed his arms and then began ticking reasons off on his fingers.
“One. Ye and Bridget were accosted just weeks ago coming out of a club meeting—”
“That was because—”
“Two,” Niall continued, “there have been trade strikes all over Glasgow the last year. The weavers, in particular, are still angry with their lot.”
“That doesnae have to do with me.”
“Nae? Your club has marched past their shops with signs—”
“Only to make a point.”
“Three,” Niall said, quitting the argument. “Warehouse workers are like dock hands. They are nae used to dealing politely with ladies—”
