Page 13 of A Dangerous Highland Affair

“Teasag I,” began Neacal, before looking around to see the young cartman watching them. He took Teasag by the arm and muttered into her ear.

“Nae here, lass, let’s go somewhere a wee bit more private….”

Too surprised to protest, Teasag allowed herself to be led out along the narrow road where the cart was parked.

They had only managed a short distance since leaving the tavern and were still in the thick of the town’s center, which was beginning to throng with life.

Teasag cast a wary eye over the busying street, filled with servants going about their business and farmers leading animals to the main thoroughfare.

The pair of them had to almost flatten themselves against the wooden cart as a shepherd driving a flock of sheep passed alongside them, while an entourage of men wheeling carts swiftly followed. Teasag looked in surprise at the brouhaha building in the unassuming streets, as the cartman gave a frustrated shrug.

“Biggest sheep market in the Highlands, first Thursday every month. Noo ye ken why I wanted to set off on time!” he pouted before returning to his pipe.

Teasag turned to Neacal and gave him her best stare. “Aye?” she said sharply.

“Och!” muttered Neacal, more to himself than anyone else. He pressed them both away from the narrow, cobbled street and down into an empty alleyway.

In the darkened underpass, Teasag’s heart quickened. Now they were completely out of the way - it suddenly felt like anything could happen between them. Not that she didn’t trust him, she did.

Looking deep into Neacal’s blue eyes, she was surprised to see a resonant sparkle, even at this early hour. In th dim early light, she could barely see anything of him, just the glint in his eyes and the whites, catching the meager rays that strayed through the gloom of their hiding place.

“Listen, hen, I’m sorry about stopping yer journey,” said Neacal, his eyes diving into hers and making Teasag sway slightly in surprise. She always seemed to feel dizzy in his presence.

“Aye, go on,” said Teasag, trying hard to keep focus and not simper at the sight of him standing so closely.

It was true that they had not gone very far into their journey, only managing a few hundred feet before grinding to a halt. Still, at every turn of the cartwheel, Teasag had longed to see Neacal’s face one more time. Now it seemed like her prayers had been answered.

But it would not do to show her hand to a lad like that. Or indeed, any lad. In her grand plans for improving her lot, lads had never featured very highly, and Teasag was determined that they weren’t going to start now. Despite her inconvenient feelings for the lad, she would have to be tough. But the theory was one thing. Maintaining a cool exterior was harder than it looked.

The lad was on the verge of saying something when another procession went by, along the main thoroughfare of men driving horses, sheep, and other animals along the way. Just when they thought they’d seen the last of them, another entourage started up; a battalion of assorted vegetable sellers, followed by men hoofing meat, cheese, and just about every other thing imaginable.

Watching them pass, Teasag suddenly realized why the tavern had been so lively the night before.

“Biggest market in the shire, too, they say,” Neacal observed, as the streets filled with exuberant shouting and the smells of animal waste. He was about to turn away when, with no warning, a sheep broke free of its ranks, careering wildly into the alleyway where they were standing. The confused animal almost ran straight at them, making them split apart. Neacal pressed up against one wall of the narrow alley, and Teasag flattened against the other.

It took a while before the excitable animal was recaptured by its owner. Still, Teasag received a shock when she found herself face-to-face with the coarse-faced farmer from the night before without warning.

Teasag immediately tensed as the bearded man pounded along the narrow alleyway after his errant sheep. This morning he looked every bit as red in the face as the night before, but thankfully, a lot soberer. As he passed, he raised his hat to Teasag, apologizing for his sheep. If he recognized her from the tavern, he did not show it. Instead, he was the model of decorum, swearing only slightly as he pursued his errant flock.

“Excuse me, miss,” he muttered as he chased after the creature, already at the other end of the dark lane and causing mayhem on the other side of the road.

Teasag watched as he went, under the vigilant gaze of Neacal. He was clearly watching with suspicion until the horny farmer had passed before continuing with their conversation.

Only once he had gone, and the errant sheep was safely back in the fold, did he try to speak again.

“Teasag,” he said urgently, now that he had her attention. Once more, Teasag felt the delight of those sharp sapphire eyes upon her. An involuntary shiver reverberated up and down her spine.

Even in this dank half-light of a stinking alleyway, it was impossible to deny the beauty of this man’s face. Last night had been dark, and this morning she had been unable to see into his eyes. So now, Teasag couldn’t help but take the time to admire how alluring this lad was, here in the streaky half-light.

“Here,” said Neacal, unexpectedly taking her by the shoulders and moving them both further down along the alleyway. He finally led them to an alcove, which contained a little ledge and motioned to Teasag to sit. Complying, Teasag lifted her skirts and propped herself up against the stone seat, looking into Neacal’s eyes searchingly.

“It best be good,” she said, but when she looked at him, he just smiled.

Instead of speaking, he thrust a package into her lap. In surprise, Teasag took it, unraveling its linen wrapping.

“What, what is this?” she asked slowly, her fingers working their way through the fabric covering as Neacal smiled and watched.

Eyes widening, Teasag opened the bundle to see something oddly familiar—the two silver thimbles belonging to her mother.