“Ikenthat. The stench alone made that obvious. And aye, it was rude—”
“Rude?Rude? Ye cannae be so…” Niall paused.
Annie lifted a brow. “Stupid? Was that what ye meant to say?”
“Nae…I…” Niall ran his fingers through his hair. “If ye cannae truly see what those workers’ intentions were, then ye surely qualify for sainthood.”
Annie put her hands on her hips. “Then yearecalling me stupid. For certain, no one has ever likened me to a saint.”
Niall gave an exasperated huff. Annie had a way of turning his words around. “I meant only a saint would show mercy for what those men did.”
“Ah! So we are in agreement, then.” She gave him a satisfied-looking smirk and started walking again.
Niall frowned and followed her. “What did we just agree on?”
“The protest march, of course.”
Niall stopped abruptly, not sure he’d heard correctly, but Annie continued to walk. In three strides he caught up to her. “I think the bump on your head may have muddled your thinking.”
She glanced at him. “Now ye are calling me a half-wit?”
“Nae!” Niall felt like growling. “Ye just are nae making sense.”
“Um.” She turned her attention to the sidewalk. “That is what half-wits do, ye ken. Make nae sense. ’Tis why they are called such.”
Hewas going to be half-witted soon himself if Annie didn’t stop using his words against him. “I will never agree to the protest march.”
“Ye doona have to.”
Niall drew his brows together. “What do ye mean bythat?”
She stopped again. “Just what I said. Ye doona have to agree. ’Tis my decision.”
“I will nae allow it.” As soon as the words came out, both of her brows shot up and Niall realized too late he’d probably used the wrong words. Again. It seemed Annie had a way of muddling his thinking as well. “’Tis nae safe for ye.”
She inhaled deeply and Niall could practically hear her counting numbers in her head. Finally she spoke.
“I appreciate that ye want me to be safe. I also appreciate that ye came to my rescue Monday night. I admit we were nae prepared for such an onslaught.” She took another deep breath. “But this is different.”
He crossed his arms across his chest. “How?”
“We are going to meet Sunday in front of the cathedral—”
“A church? Ye are planning to meet at a church?” Had the lass truly hit her head too hard? “The minister is nae likely to allow ye to speak.”
“We doona intend to go in,” Annie answered. “We are going to hold signs that the wives will read when they come out, so they’ll ken how their husbands behaved.”
Niall groaned. Men who would be turned out of their beds would be as surly and irritable as a bear awakened in midwinter. “Ye will just make the men more angry.”
Annie shrugged. “Initially, perhaps.”
“’Tis nae wise.”
“There ye go again, telling me I doona ken how to think.”
“I dinnae mean…” Niall muttered a curse in Gaelic under his breath. Annie was going to drive him barmy. “Never mind. Ye are going to be late for work if we stand here arguing over this.”
“Ye are right about that, at least.” Annie stomped off.
