Page 67 of A Dangerous Highland Affair

“Nae,” protested Neacal, flailing desperately beneath her rage. “Ye’ve got it wrong, ye dinnae understand!”

“I understand all too well, Neacal. Ye’ve been playing me for a fool since we first met. I just wish ye had the decency to admit it…” The hurt in Teasag’s eyes was almost too much for Neacal to bear. He listened to her voice, spiraling higher, quivering with emotion. “An’ to think I defended ye!”

Hot contrition poured down on top of Neacal; he was perspiring despite the cold air. Inside his chest cavity, his heart thumped extra loudly.

“Nae, Teasag, please, I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes filling with tears. To his sharp surprise, Neacal was overcome with emotion. For the first time in his life, he felt like telling the truth. But before he could, Teasag stopped him.

“Nae Neacal, save yer breath, I dinnae want to hear it, naething that comes out o’ yer gab is true…,” her eyes glared furiously, the whites of them darting from side to side, as she scanned the vista in its entirety. It seemed she was looking everywhere, except straight at him.

“Nae, Teasag, please, wait, I’m sorry, listen, can we start again?” Neacal pleaded.

“That depends if ye tell the truth or nae,” said Teasag, finally turning her eyes to look at him. To his dismay, they glimmered with tears.

“I will,” pleaded Neacal.

“Well, ye told me ye dinnae kill anybody, an’ I believe ye if that’s still true?” Teasag brought her face closer to him, near enough for them to lock lips together. “So, is it?”

“It’s true, ye’ve got to believe me, I didnae kill anyone,” Neacal pleaded, his heart beating in triple time.

Softly Teasag turned her head. “I believe ye,” she said gently. “But ye dinnae help yersel’ by lying about everything else, so will ye tell me the truth about the charge of thievery, an’ tell me when those women accused ye o’ stealing from ‘em, are ye innocent, or guilty?”

Teasag’s eyes peered searchingly into his own, and Neacal knew, as if he didn’t already before, that he could lie to her no longer.

With a sigh, he glanced up at her.

“Guilty.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

T here was a pause in which it felt as if Neacal’s heart would explode.

Everything in the meadow seemed to slow down and simultaneously get louder; the sound of his heart thumping in his chest cavity, the birds singing overhead and, the rhythmic pace of Teasag’s breathing.

Desperately, Neacal glanced into her eyes, wondering what she was thinking.

After it felt as if a thousand years had passed, Teasag looked at him.

“Thank ye,” she said, simply, her hands folded into her lap. She glanced about the lea, her eyes darting over to the forest and the village beyond.

Neacal waited for her to say more, but it seemed as if Teasag was contemplating, for the time being.

Sensing her mood, Neacal decided to tread carefully.

“It’s nae something I’m proud o’,” he said, eventually. He had moved closer now so that he was near enough to touch her—if he dared.

Teasag turned fiercely to him. “Good,” she said abruptly.

Neacal decided to assert himself. “Nae,” he said plainly. “It’s nae good, I ken, but I have no other choice…”

He hoped that this might make her stop and listen, but it only succeeded in having the opposite effect. Instead of bringing her on board, Neacal’s confession seemed to have made her harder.

“There’s always a choice, Neacal!” she exploded, the tops of her cheeks beginning to pinken. Beneath her woolen shawl, she bristled with displeasure.

“Nae, there isn’t,” he flashed, equally determined. He didn’t want to argue, but inside his veins, he felt his own temper rising. There was so much that she didn’t know. “Nae for me, there’s nae… unless the choice is eating or starving…”

His eyes met with hers, in a measured gaze, and this time, he didn’t pull away from her when she glared.

“We all have hard times, Neacal, but we cannae all go on the rob,” she said, her eyes glistening. “Do ye think I had it easy, or anyone for that matter?”