Page 10 of A Dangerous Highland Affair

Gently, he promenaded her through the packed-out bar and to the stairway where the rooms were located. By now, they were on their own, the noise from the bawdy drinkers flooding through from the bar below.

Teasag looked at him, a reluctance showing in her blue eyes. Neacal sensed that she wanted him to do something, but he was unsure what it was for a moment.

Then, the penny dropped.

“Listen,” said Neacal, trying to make it look as if it was all his idea. “If yer still worried that someone might, ye ken, try something, I can stay outside here tonight….”

His words hung in the air for a moment as Teasag dithered at the door to her room. Upstairs in the White Hart Tavern was less than salubrious, at least, the room that Teasag had been allocated was.

“Och, really?” said Teasag. “I wouldnae ask normally, I mean, I had thought that one of the ladies I traveled with might be stopping too, or, well, anyone,” she said. “But the innkeeper said that I’ve got it to myself…”

“Aye,” said Neacal. “Aye, it’s alright. I dinnae think they’ll mind…”

Already, Neacal’s head was spinning. When he’d opened the door to the White Hart Inn, he hadn’t reckoned on staying there. But now it had gotten too late to do anything else. However, he hadn’t paid for a bed. Still, it seemed unlikely that the bartender would object, especially as he’d helped him earlier on.

Teasag looked at him fondly. “I feel like an eejit noo,” she said, sheepishly, with a quiet laugh.

“Nae, nae at all, a lass cannae be too careful, especially wi’ all us men oot there!” he said with a grin. “Ye can be assured that nae-one will get past me…, just like a dog, I’ll sleep wi’ one ear cocked open!”

“Och,” blushed Teasag. She was about to retreat into her room when she turned back around. “An’ if ye ever come to Blackness, ye should be sure to look me up…”

“Blackness, aye,” said Neacal, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “So, ye said, I ken it well.” This was an understatement, but right then, Neacal wasn’t too sure how much to give away about his plans for the morning.

“Well then, I’d better bid ye goodnight,” said Neacal, wishing he could give her a goodnight kiss. Teasag smiled, her sweet lips looking even more luscious than ever.

Both stood, reluctant to say goodnight, and both skirting about the issue of their problematic hometown. Because, like him, Neacal sensed an unease in Teasag when she talked about Blackness.

There was something about her return home that she wasn’t telling him, and it had him instantly intrigued. But as curious as he was, Neacal didn’t press the point.

After all, he had secrets of his own.

CHAPTER FOUR

Dawn arrived earlier than Teasag would have liked, sending its miserable gray fingers into her narrow lodging room.

Blinking, the girl took a minute to get her bearings. Her eyelids were sealed firmly shut, the combination of a summer cold and the deep sleep which had overtaken her.

When she did prize them open, it was to see unfamiliar walls, bathed in dull light, streaming in from the partially shuttered window.

The room was just about big enough for two, but owing to the lack of guests, Teasag had it all to herself, something that she had been relieved about.

Apart from anything else, she had been convinced that she would be robbed, not helped by the fact that everyone at the McCallum kept telling her of the vagabonds waiting in prey for green travelers. Top of the list for thieves to congregate was taverns, apparently. Thank God then that she had not had to share a room with a stranger!

Automatically her fingers dove into the fabric travel. It wasn’t big but seemed to need emptying every time she went into it. It took a few minutes to locate the pair of silver thimbles, all wrapped up in a spare linen petticoat, tucked into the bottom of the sack. Beside it was the silver coin that her friend Caitríona had given her, still unspent.

Teasag folded the thimbles back into the undergarment and sighed. They were the only thing she had of her mother, a seamstress who had worked at Blackness Castle for many years before her death only last year. Holding the bag close, Teasag felt a pang of sadness. Her mother had passed away without her being able to visit, and this would be the first time she had returned to the family home.

Gathering together her clothes, Teasag set about tightening her stays when a noise startled her. Immediately, Teasag clutched the bedclothes around her bosom and looked about the room. “Who’s there?” she cried, her voice shaking a little.

There was no reply. For a moment, Teasag held her breath to listen closely; there was nothing. Perhaps she had imagined it? Teasag was just about to put both feet onto the floor when the sound came again.

It sounded like a cough, and it was coming from very close by. She definitely hadn’t imagined it. Stepping out onto the cold floor, Teasag grabbed at the brat lying at the foot of the bed. Looking at its distinctive colored tartan, she stopped, momentarily wondering where it had come from.

But she didn’t pause long enough to give it much thought, with more pressing things on her mind - like the phantom cougher. The cough sounded again, softly, and a little dryly. It took all her wits to establish there was no one there except for herself, but if she didn’t know better, she would say that someone was in the room with her. A man, to be precise.

It was obvious. Since there was no one inside with her, he must be outside. Wrapping the unfamiliar brat around her shoulders, Teasag squared up to the tatty bedroom door and steeled herself. With a quick shove, she turned the rusty handle and immediately gave a gasp of surprise.

Slumped at her feet outside the door was a sleeping man, his shape rising and falling in rhythmic time. Instinctively, Teasag recoiled in shock, then, she softened. Glancing down at the dreaming head, she grinned. Casting her eyes along him, she saw the distinctive blue and red tartan matching the brat she had pulled over her shoulders.