Page 66 of A Dangerous Highland Affair

“I’ve got all day, Neacal,” said Teasag, her bright ray of light eyes going straight through him. “So, come on, tell me everything I need to ken. Ye say yer nae a killer, an’ I am glad. I want to believe ye. But that poster also said yer a thief, so what do ye have to say about that?”

The searching light in Teasag’s eyes reached right into him, making it impossible for Neacal to look away.

Damn! He hadn’t been expecting how hard this was proving to be.

In his complacency, Neacal had thought all he need do was deny the allegations. Although he could do so in good faith about the murder charge, the question of his profession was another.

Neacal looked directly at Teasag, like a vision in white, blazing before him. She looked like some sort of angel, her blonde hair billowing up into the skies.

“I…,” Neacal opened his mouth to speak, but the wind blustering around the glen swooped up and took the words he was going to say. “I,” he faltered.

Teasag looked witheringly at him. “Go on,” she said, folding her arms together patiently.

“It’s complicated,” said Neacal, looking about the glen side desperately, for some excuse, anything, that could save him.

“Really, I would have thought it was really quite simple,” Teasag said in a cold voice.

Neacal couldn’t help being drawn into her ice-blue gaze.

“I mean, those women, on the road to Blackness, they seemed to think so,”

Teasag’s question hung in the air, impertinently, in front of him, demanding to be answered.

Inside, Neacal’s heart was conflicted. “They had it wrong,” he said, eventually, but not in a voice that was terribly convincing.

“Really, did they?” said Teasag, turning her face to look at him more closely. In Neacal’s heart of hearts, he knew he could not go on deceiving her, but also, a genuine fear clawed at him - she could not possibly know the truth.

“Aye,” said Neacal, but without looking at her. He shifted his head away from her and waited for her to stop staring. He was usually a better liar than this and knew better than anyone the art of deceiving another. He could look right into her eyes and swear that none of this was true. He could smile and use flattery to win Teasag around.

He knew he could do all these things because he had done them before, so many times, on others and, even, on her. However, this time, as Teasag’s wide blue eyes stared so deeply into his own, he simply could not do it again.

“Ye see, I would say that those women on the way to Blackness kent very well about ye being a thief, Neacal,” she said intently. It was getting colder now, with the wind whistling around the empty glen, and Teasag rearranged the thick woolen brat on her shoulders a little more closely. “And at that time, I didnae want to believe it could be true, but since then, I saw the women at that village —all wearing the finest things. An’ I didnae get the impression that they were lords an’ ladies, so the question is, where did they get the coin for all that finery?”

Neacal tried his hardest to answer her.

“They have plenty, it is true,” he said, equitably. “It doesnae mean they go robbing folk.”

There was a pause as Teasag gave a little scoff. What he said was so patently crass that it didn’t even warrant a reply.

“There is a lot o’ industry an’ means by which e’en common folk can earn some coin, ye ken, Teasag,” said Neacal, earnestly looking straight at her now. He knew this was a longshot, but he had to try his hardest to bring her on board and try and make her see that it wasn’t as bad as it looked like.

Even if it was.

“Wheesht!” said Teasag softly. She didn’t even turn to look at him.

“Like ye,” began Neacal desperately. Now, he got her attention. Teasag turned her perfectly shaped cheekbones around to face him, but when he looked, he saw anger flash in her eyes.

“Like me? What do ye mean like me? I’m nae a thief!” she retorted hotly.

“Nae, nae, o’ course yer nae, that’s nae what I mean,” said Neacal, his tongue clumsily explaining. “I mean, well, ye want to be a painter, don’t ye, well that could earn ye a decent coin, couldn’t it? Yer talent, well, the folk in the village, they have their um own talents…”

Teasag eyed him hotly. “Och, an’ I ken exactly what sort o’ talents they have, Neacal, look at me!”

Teasag’s voice had worked up to quite a crescendo, and with a sinking heart, Neacal knew that his story had not only failed but been a huge mistake.

With some difficulty, Neacal brought his eyes toward Teasag and looked. She was furious, her pale face glowering with rage.

“Neacal, do ye think I’m simple? First, ye thieve an’ then lie to me about bein’ a thief—then ye do it again, but mak’ it sound as if I am somehow the same as ye!”