Page 76 of A Dangerous Highland Affair

Seeing his tense face, she tried to explain, “I…was wi’ a friend, a lassie…,” she began.

“What place? Which woman?” he demanded.

Teasag bit her lip. She had not anticipated Lorcal’s overreaction.

From the look in his eye, it was clear that Lorcal wasn’t letting her go anywhere, anytime soon. With a sigh, Teasag sat down. She was going to have to come clean.

“I’m going to stay wi’ a lassie in the woods,” she said, vaguely aware of how strange this sounded. “She said she could put me up…”

This was a slight exaggeration. Gaie hadn’t offered, in so many words. But Teasag didn’t want to leave Neacal there on his own.

“What lassie? Why do ye want to stay there? Ye’ve got a home here, an’ like I said, I can get ye work up at the castle…,” Lorcal looked hotly at her.

Teasag hesitated. “Yes, but…”

She hadn’t yet told him that she wanted to be an artist. Neacal was the only one who knew, so far. And now, under Lorcal’s glare, Teasag felt her resolve falter.

He looked at her oddly. For one minute, she had thought he was about to concede and allow her to go. Although inside, she was bubbling with frustration that she should need his permission. But then, he turned and said.

“Och, it’s nae that hoorhoose in the center o’ the forest, God’s tooth, tell me it isnae so…!” Lorcal stood bolt upright, his fading sandy hair standing almost on end with rage.

Teasag felt an overwhelming desire to laugh, but it probably would only enrage him further. Inside, something pushed to the fore.

“There’s nae need for that language, Lorcal, an’ anyway, it’s nae yer business who I stay wi’…,” her mind was racing as she spoke. “I’ve managed for the last decade wi’out yer precious guidance, an’ I’m sure I can manage again!” she huffed, but deep down she knew it was not that easy.

She really didn’t want to leave without Lorcal’s approval and, infuriatingly, lying to him seemed to be impossible.

“Can ye noo,” fumed Lorcal, pacing the length of the cottage and back again. Everything in the room was neat and orderly, in stark contrast to the cozy mess at Gaie’s place.

“If that’s the case, then why are ye moving in wi’ an’ auld strumpet like Gaie Gowdie?” he spat. Lorcal’s eyes glowed with vehemence, leaving Teasag stunned and affronted.

“Strumpet?” she yelled. She knew she should really keep her voice down, the walls in these houses were thin, and she knew the neighborhood snoops would be listening. “Where exactly do ye get that from. An’ auld, she’s barely my age!”

“Some would say twenty-one is more than an age to be wed!” quipped Lorcal, leaving Teasag to roll her eyes.

But his words carried through, and briefly, Teasag found herself wondering about the exact nature of the woman she was so casually going to stay with.

“Och, well. If that’s all ye’ve got to say, then I’m off!” said Teasag, preparing to leave. Her temper was rising as she made a grab for her woolen brat, still soaked with rain from the ride.

As she turned to go, she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Lorcal, the anger clouding his face had melted, but his resolution had not.

“Right, if yer so determined to go, then I am too,” he said, and nothing she said could stop him.

Realizing she was not going to win this one, Teasag broke into a grin.

“Alright, have it yer way!” she retorted, giving him a cross look, but as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was relieved to have her big brother looking out for her.

“Well, this is unexpected!”

Gaie’s words came lightly, but Neacal could tell there was intent behind them. He had known her long enough to know when she was suspicious of someone. The look in her eye when Teasag turned up, complete with overnight sack, was all he needed to realize that Gaie was uncomfortable.

Nervously, Teasag walked into the center of the room. “I hope ye dinnae mind,” she began, but she was cut short.

“Nae fash, lass,” said Gaie, with a smile. She had been about to pour them all a drink, when out of nowhere, Lorcal walked in.

Neacal’s first reaction was to stiffen as the unknown man entered the room. He even went so far as to reach for his sgian dubh but managed just about to get it under control and, even, smile.

“Hoots, friend,” he said politely. “an’ who are ye?”