Page 40 of A Dangerous Highland Affair

A smile of recognition passed through him, making Teasag ripple with embarrassment. Waiting for her answer, he paused. When none came, he continued.

“Or maybe an incantation… it was hard to tell in the dark,” he said impishly. He brought his blue eyes yet closer until her cheeks burned bright. “Say, lassie, yer nae a witch are ye?”

Neacal watched her teasingly until Teasag could pretend no more. Her fingers fiddling with the knapsack at her feet and bit her lip. Quickly, she revealed the parchment she had been working on the previous evening.

It had been hard to sketch accurately in the dark, and Teasag was still not sure she liked the result. Yet, despite her better judgment, she handed it to Neacal, who studied it silently.

“I see,” he said stoutly. “So, it’s true, ye drew a curse upon me…”

His face contorted playfully, pretending to be outraged. “They say that a witch’s hex can be cast by making a likeness o’ a man!” he added.

Neacal looked down, glancing at the parchment. At this point, Teasag could no longer bear to watch. Clearly, he was mocking her.

Internally, Teasag was chiding herself for showing Neacal the sketch.

She had done it in practically pitch darkness. What on earth was she thinking of showing it to him? Now he was laughing at her - no doubt trying to work out how to make an excuse to get away.

After all, a woman painter, who had ever even heard of such a thing? Never mind a peasant teuchter painter!

Teasag’s cheeks burned in shame. To hide her chagrin, she set about taking the paper off him and trying to push it onto the campfire.

“Teasag?” Neacal asked uncertainly as she shoved the parchment away from him.

“Laugh if yer gonnae laugh!” she bristled. Her voice came angrily from inside, and Neacal looked up, shocked. But it wasn’t really him she was angry with. It was herself for showing it to him.

“See, I told ye it was nae good, anyway, an’ I havenae got time for this,” said Teasag, her voice reaching a crescendo.

She hadn’t expected to feel stirred, but now energy buzzed all the way through her, a strange combination of desire and shame. It was matched by the encroaching storm, shaking the nearby oak tree -flinging its branches as if battling itself.

The emotion in her own voice rose an octave. It wobbled shakily as she looked him in the eye.

Teasag turned on her heel to go but made the mistake of looking back. Behind her, she saw the uncertain eye of Neacal staring up at her. This unsettled Teasag and made her more defensive.

“So I tell ye what, let’s just get on our way, an’ then we can be gone to Blackness…then ye can be on yer way, an’ we nae have to meet each other ever again. Which will suit us both just fine!”

And with that, she sped off toward the nut-brown mare as Neacal watched, agape.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“T easag?”

Neacal’s hollow voice rang out across the glen. From behind her, she could hear him approaching, his footsteps, first distant and then closer, springing along the wet boglands towards her.

“Come on, we should leave,” said Teasag. She was straining to keep her voice neutral and not look at him, but immediately he was upon her.

Neacal’s firm touch gripped her shoulder and softly pulled her towards him.

“Nae,” he said gently. He looked into her eyes, a mixture of incomprehension, and wonder. “Nae yet, stop awhile, lassie, whatever did I do to upset ye?”

His question was a genuine one, but Teasag’s heart beat too heavily to even think about answering. Instead, she shot it down.

“Ye didnae upset me,” she said, hesitating. She had been about to mount the pretty brown mare, but Neacal stopped her.

Steadily, he led her from the horse to the tree where they had been seated. “Drink this,” he said, thrusting an earthenware cup into her hand.

Teasag did as she was told without asking, downing the hot raspberry leaf tea in one gulp. Immediately, she felt a tingle of warmth spreading through her body.

With a sigh, she put down the cup as Neacal looked at her.