Hell’s fires. The lass truly was going to drive him barmy. Silence swept the room as Annie approached the chairman. He did not look welcoming. Niall swore under his breath and fingered one of his knives.
“Mr. James,” Annie said, sounding as though she were greeting a guest at her mother’s boardinghouse. She gestured toward the other ladies. “Our—”
“Who are you?” one man shouted.
“I think they’re part of that damn women’s club that marches around town,” another answered.
“The ones who think they can take our jobs?” a third voice asked, followed by loud grumbles.
Niall started to rise as the chairman held up a hand to quiet the crowd. Slowly, Niall sat back down.
“I have no idea of why you are here,” Mr. James said to Annie. “Obviously, there has been a misunderstanding.”
“We were led to believe,” Annie continued as though she hadn’t been interrupted, “that we would be allowed ten minutes to speak.”
The chairman raised both eyebrows. “I can assure you I did not issue an invitation.”
“They need to leave!” another man shouted.
“Get out! We don’t want them here,” a second one yelled. “They want our jobs!”
Annie turned on them, eyes shooting sparks. Niall wasn’t sure her hair wouldn’t catch on fire, it was blazing so red. For a fleeting moment, he pictured her as the ancient warrior queen, Boudicca. Then he was on his feet, hand on the hilt of his sword.
Before he reached her, though, a middle-aged man stood and held up a hand for silence. Mr. James nodded quickly, looking relieved for the distraction. “Mr. Haines. You wished to speak?”
“Aye. I do.” He turned to the rest of the crowd and grinned at them. “It’s been my experience that if a woman is determined to speak her mind, that is what she is going to do.” He waited until a few twitters of laughter died down. “Now, the way I’m looking at it, let the lady have her ten minutes and then they’ll leave and we can get on with our meeting.”
There was some grumbling, but when Mr. James nodded, the noise died away. Mr. Haines smiled at Annie. “Miss…?”
“Annie Ferguson,” she answered, “and thank ye.”
The older man nodded affably and sat down. Niall took his seat too, although he’d rather have stayed standing. Then he groaned as Annie began to speak about why women were marching. She couldn’t take a more diplomatic approach, considering the odds weren’t exactly in their favor? He heard low rumbling behind him. Niall raked his hand through his hair again. The lass was definitely going to drive him to an early old age…if they made it out of here alive.
Chapter Three
“I think that went quite well,” Annie said to Niall once the group was out on the street fifteen minutes later. From the way Niall stared at her as though she’d just grown another head, she knew he did not agree. In fact, he looked as though a lecture was going to be forthcoming. She smiled brightly. “I did get to speak my piece, so the evening was a success.”
“The only thing successful is that all of you are out here, safe and sound,” Niall muttered.
“Oh, pish,” Aileen retorted. “What were they going to do to us?”
“We are nae witches,” Nairna, one of the twins, said.
“No one has been burned at the stake in three hundred years,” Kiara, the other twin, added.
“And no one had a bucket of hot tar either,” Fenella said.
“Probably because they dinnae ken ye were coming.” Niall grimaced. “None of ye can possibly think those men took ye seriously?”
Annie lifted her chin. “No one laughed.”
“Ye miss the point,” Niall replied. “Boos and jeers are not usually considered sympathetic.”
“The tradesmen are civilized, for all that,” Aileen said. “They were nae going to harm us.”
Niall shook his head. “I am nae so sure, ladies. I doona think it safe for ye to continue with your marches and demands.”
“Even with ye to protect us?” Inis asked and deliberately batted her eyelashes at him. “Who would dare to accost us when we have a braw man like ye around?”
