"'Tis a long story."
"What would you do in Acharacle? 'Tis but a wee village."
"Hopefully sing for my supper. 'Tis all I ken how to do."
Oh, blast! She shouldn't have said that, for it might reveal that she was not from the working class peasants who generally possessed a great many labor skills. A lady was trained in needlework, music, singing, running a household, and a few other things. Most of which were useless outside of a castle.
"You wish to sing in a tavern?" he asked, his tone disbelieving, his brows quirked.
"Not in truth, but if I have to…"
"Do you not know what sort of men you would run into in a tavern? Men seeking more than ale and fine music."
Heat rushed into her face because she knew from experience he was right. She and the other minstrels had sung in taverns several times. They’d had a few run-ins with disagreeable men. "I would've asked the proprietor to protect me from his customers as part of the employment," Anna said.
"And who would protect you from the proprietor should he take advantage?"
She hunched her shoulders, for she had not considered the possibility. In the past, the three male minstrels in their group had kept bad men at bay. But she hadn't thought this whole thing through before she'd left. She simply knew she had to get away from Chief Hamilton. She did have the knife she'd lifted from the kitchen. She could defend herself with it, but if she should kill a man in the process, she might be tossed into the tolbooth prison or even executed. She well knew a woman traveling alone was vulnerable, but she'd had little choice.
"You could've stayed at the castle, regardless of an argument with the other musicians," Neacal said.
She could not hide in the castle forever. It was filled to overflowing and a servant would find her no matter where she went.
"I didn't wish to cause trouble," she said.
"You wouldn't."
He was wrong there, for trouble followed her wherever she went. She had to change the subject and remove the focus from her. "Have you chosen any of the young ladies as your bride?"
"Nay," he said sharply. "Nor will I. The elders are wasting everyone's time."
She observed him in the gradually deepening dusk. His dark brows lowered over his midnight blue eyes. So serious… she couldn't resist teasing him.
"Most chiefs want a pretty young wife." She kept a straight face, for 'twas true.
He glared at her for a long moment, then glanced away. "Aye, well. I'm not most chiefs. I plan to wait until next year, at least. Why should I become chief and get married all within a month's time? I see no need to rush."
"I agree." An odd thrill spiraled through her. Why should she care if the chief married? She certainly couldn't marry him. She cared because of those bonfire hot kisses he'd bestowed upon her. What did they mean? She had no inkling and never should've let them happen. But how could she stop him? When he had leaned toward her, as if seeking sensual sustenance, everything in her sang with delight and anticipation. He gave her joy such as she had not experienced in years.
"Anna?"
"Aye?" Had he been speaking to her while she was woolgathering about him? Her face burned.
"Where are you from, lass?" he asked, his voice sincere.
"The east," she blurted.
"Who is your clan or family?"
"Douglas." At least her grandmother had been a Douglas. She supposed that made her a distant part of the clan.
"Are you a widow?"
"Aye." She was being honest. The one man who had been her true husband was dead. She didn’t consider Blackburn her husband.
"What was your husband's name?"
"Richard Douglas." She almost choked on the made-up name, even though this was the same lie she'd been telling everyone for the past couple of years. She couldn't tell anyone her husband's real name, John MacCromar, for then they might ken her identity and where she was from. Blackburn had put the word out that he was searching for his missing wife. She had even seen his men searching for her in Edinburgh at one time. Regardless of the necessity of making up these stories and false names, guilt bored through her at lying to Neacal. He'd been naught but helpful to her… and caring.
