“About me person.” Niall grinned again. “Do ye want to ken exactly where?”
Annie felt her face heat as she realized the impact of her question. “Nae! That was nae what I meant.”
His grin widened. “Well, if ye change your mind, just ask.”
She didn’t think her face could get any hotter, but it did. “I will nae be asking.”
“Pity. I was about to divulge my secrets to ye.” Niall managed to straighten his mouth. “The point is, though, that ye can hide a knife easily enough.”
“I will think on it.” She needed to change the subject before her face actually burst into flames. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Aye. Ye can tell me what made ye so angry earlier.”
Annie sighed. That subject wasn’t much better as a topic. They’d probably be arguing in a minute, but it was better than wondering where Niall kept the rest of his knives.Notthat she was wondering. She wasn’t.
“Mr. Haines needed someone to go with him to see a new client who wanted assurance our warehouse was top-notch. Mr. Kingsley wasn’t in, so I offered to go. I really wanted to make up for missing two days of work—”
“Which was nae your fault. Did Haines say it was?”
“Nae. But I wanted to let him see that I could handle the job as well as Mr. Kingsley…” Annie paused and looked at Niall. “I ken ye doona think I should be working at the warehouse, but hear me out. ’Tis important that members of the Progress Club can show that women can be more than maids or nannies. They should nae be regulated to being shop clerks or seamstresses either.” All the frustration of the afternoon that had built up was about to explode. Annie felt it, but could no longer stop it. “We have brains. We can think. We have intelligence. We can be bankers and accountants and solicitors and, if the blasted laws were changed, owners of property as well. We could also—”
“I think ye made your point.” Niall held up his hand to keep her from protesting. “Ye doona have to prove anything to me. Margaret—to say naught of my mother—would soon put that notion to rights.”
Annie frowned. “But ye doona think I should be working at the warehouse.”
‘Nae because ye cannae do the job. ’Tis your safety I am concerned with.”
“But I have nae been accosted at the warehouse,” Annie replied stubbornly.
Niall didn’t seem to notice—or else he simply ignored—her tone. “But ye were knocked senseless at the Trades Hall, lass. Those are the same men who do business with Haines.”
“But Mr. Haines has nae fired me. At least, nae yet,” Annie answered, “which is why I need to prove to him I can do the work.”
“I still doona like it.”
“I ken that, but Mr. Kingsley is there too. He keeps the workers in order. I ken he would intervene if a tradesman became belligerent.”
“There is something about Kingsley I doona like,” Niall said.
Annie looked heavenward. “Ye doona like Owen MacLean either.”
“’Tis different. Our clans tend to spar with each other,” Niall replied, “although I will admit MacLean handled himself well Monday night.”
Annie glanced at Niall. “So ye have a truce then? Nae more squabbling?”
Niall looked affronted. “We doonasquabble.”
Annie was tempted to roll her eyes again. “Argue, then. Ye cannae deny that.”
“We disagree on things.” Niall shrugged. “But aye, for the moment MacLean and I have a truce.”
“Well, at least ye have refrained from squab—arguing—with Mr. Kingsley. That is good.”
“I doona trust the man though.”
“Why nae?”
“I doona ken exactly. He talks too smooth.”
