Page 55 of A Dangerous Highland Affair

But deep down, she knew she could not; there were too many unanswered questions. So, instead, Teasag rose to her feet, and, shrugging out of Neacal’s warm embrace, she paced erratically about the small clearing in front of the low houses.

By now, they were sufficiently far enough away to speak without being overheard, giving wind to all Teasag’s emotions bubbling up within her.

“I mean,” said Teasag, as she opened her mouth to try and articulate what was in her head. “This place seems mighty prosperous, yet it doesnae look as if the folk living here are high-bred…,” she began.

Then she stopped, troubled, thinking about the opulent jewels the women had shown off at the dinner table. Instantly, her mind returned to the women who had accosted Neacal on the road—remembering that one of them had lost a brooch.

Teasag stopped for a moment, leaning against one of the thick oak trees spreading into the clearing. As she did, her hand brushed against something flapping from the trunk.

Grabbing at it, Teasag saw a poster stuck crudely to the tree. Pulling it down, she scrunched it in her hand and only half-opened it out of interest.

Beside it, she saw one or two other portraits, also pinned to trees. Curiously, she glanced closer at them. There weren’t exactly many posters about here, in a backwater like this, so surreptitiously she opened it until it was unfurled in her hands.

And when she did, she got a shock. Looking down at the parchment, she discovered a likeness of Neacal’s face staring back at her.

With a jolt, Teasag examined the poster in more depth. A deep, sick feeling pervading her stomach as she read the words;

“Wanted, for murder and robbery.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“T easag, come back, ye dinnae ken!”

Neacal pleaded from behind, but Teasag did not falter.

Desperately, Neacal followed her through the winding path into the depth of the forest. As he ran, his heart pounded to the beat of his feet as he attempted to catch her up. But it was hard.

Jings! She was fast! Not until that moment did Neacal genuinely appreciate just how quickly Teasag could move. As she ran, darting nimbly through the trees like some woodland elf, he started to wonder if his feet would ever be able to keep up.

Behind him, in the house, Robbie stuck his head through the door and called out, quizzically.

“Everything alright, lad?” his voice carried on the breeze, reaching Neacal from the midst of the woods. He was not near enough to see him but could hear the concern in his voice.

“Aye, tis braw,” said Neacal, pretending. “Ye get back to yer supper!” he said, in an attempt to ward him off.

“Well, if yer sure,” said Robbie, a dubious note lingering in his voice. “I thought I heard some sort o’ argie-bargie between ye an’ yer lass!” he called into the deepening skies.

“Nae, is naething to fash about,” assured Neacal, still trying to catch Teasag up. He couldn’t help but marvel at the certainty of her movements. She ran like a little rabbit, her blonde hair swaying in the wind as she went.

Finally, Robbie went back in, closing the door with a resounding slam that could be heard from halfway across the forest.

Swiftly, Neacal hopped down the narrow track, weaving in and out of the brambles as he went. He nearly landed straight into a ditch of sprays and thorns, as Teasag slipped yet further away.

“Teasag!” he hissed. He had to be careful. The lads back at the camp might take fright if they heard what had just happened. The last thing he needed was any of them listening in.

But despite it all, he was not too bothered about himself. If the laird caught up with him, well, he would take his chances, and although he wished to avoid it, the real reason for his panic was her.

“Teasag?” he said, calling her name as the trail ran cold in the center of the thicket.

For a moment, the footsteps stopped, as if Teasag had paused, resting somewhere in the trees. Neacal crept out, listening with stealth.

“I can explain,” he said, although deep down, he knew he really couldn’t.

“Really?” said her voice stretched and reedy in the distance. Neacal’s guts twisted deeply at her hurt tone. Then, she continued.

“I mean, I ken I’m nae worldly-wise, but I liked to think that I was a good judge o’ character,” said Teasag, her voice wobbling through the bushes.

Neacal listened to her, frantically wishing he could reach out to her in the bushes beyond. She sounded so near, close enough to touch, but was maddeningly just out of reach.