Page 4 of A Dangerous Highland Affair

“Bile yer heid!” spat the farmer, as behind him, a couple of his burly mates looked on. But the young man stood his ground.

“Come on, lads,” cried the elderly bartender, returning to see what the fracas was. He folded away his towel and came to stand beside the newcomer. “Why dinnae ye just leave it, an’ get back to yer drinks, eh?”

It was a modest proposition, but the angry farmer didn’t like it. He pressed his hot, red face towards the mild-mannered tavern owner.

“Haud yer wheesht, auld fella!” he barked, pushing the aged barkeeper out of the way, but the man got there first.

“Nae,” he said, firmly, the farmer’s hot breath on his chin.

The young man gave a quick glance to the girl, standing dazed by the wall. The fat farmer had released his grip on her, but she was still boxed in. Briefly, the young man made eye contact with her.

Close up, she was more lovely than when he had spotted her from across the room, her loose blonde hair falling softly behind her shoulders and a delicate rosebud at each cheek.

He was about to speak to her and ask if she was alright when the angry farmer pushed again. This time, he butted straight into the slight barkeeper, knocking him off his feet.

Smoldering with heat, the man found his temper rising. “Yer auld enough to ken better!” he said, squaring up to the red-faced farmer. “An’ auld enough to be her father! Have ye nae shame!”

Roughly, he shoved the stunned farmer back down so that he landed on his stool. The force of his landing was such that it broke beneath him, throwing him out onto the floor.

A few of the onlookers snickered, as angrily, the fat farmer rose to his feet. “Nae-one tells me what to do in my own local!” he snarled.

The man briefly checked the girl over. She was pale but unharmed.

By comparison, the silver-haired barkeep was a mess. He had cracked his head against the table and was now bleeding profusely.

The man tended to his wounds as the red-faced farmer slunk away.

He was about to push the farmer out of the building when something heavy pressed into him. He tensed, expecting trouble. But then saw the girl’s ashen face as she collapsed on top of him.

“Lass?” he asked, desperately propping the girl up and holding her still. Furiously, the lad looked about for somewhere to sit her down, and space opened up around them as the crowd helped them pass.

Slowly, he carried the girl over to a quiet seat at the far end of the tavern. Her scent mixed with the smell of spirits intermingled in the damp air.

“Lassie?” said the man, once she was seated. The girl looked at him, blinking unsurely. “You were in a swoon,” he explained to her. “Here, drink this.”

He brought a cup of ale to the woman’s lips and helped her to drink. Close up, she was just as flawless as from afar, her peachy skin still marked with the ghost of childhood freckles.

He didn’t know why, but this pricked at his heart. She looked so lost, almost like a child. But then, as she stared into his eyes, something seemed to click.

“Thank ye, sir,” she said primly. Now she was more aware, the woman composed herself, sitting ramrod straight on the uncomfortable barstool.

“Are ye sure yer alright, lass?” asked the man, before refilling her drink, unbidden. “Ye did go rather pale?”

Slowly, the lad watched as she drank the amber-colored ale, and the color returned to her cheeks.

Anxiously, the lad glanced around.

“Has he gone?” asked the woman, her eyes following his. She was so twitchy that she hadn’t yet looked at his face.

“Eh?” said the lad, distracted. His gaze penetrated the thick crowd, but it was to no avail. It was far too dark to see clearly. Still, if the men following him hadn’t already spotted him, then they were unlikely to do so now.

A low hum resumed over the tavern, and the lad smiled. “Do ye mean woolly Willie there? Nae fash lassie, he willnae bother ye again!” he announced cheerfully, before taking a dram of ale.

The girl looked at him quizzically but smiled. She still seemed to be looking for the farmer.

The lad chided himself for still being here. He had only intended to stay a short while. Now he was being sucked into the whirlpool of her eyes, and if he wasn’t careful, he would never get away.

Mindful of the need to keep moving, the lad scraped his chair. He was about to make his excuses and leave when the girl attempted to stand up. As she did, her sickening pallor returned.