Page 2 of Glasgow Rogue

“Dearie?” Mrs. O’Connor, the elderly lady Annie had been reading to, inquired as she leaned forward in her chair. “Is there something in there that ye don’t think I should be hearin’?”

Annie blinked, suddenly realizing that she had been wool-gathering and lost track of what she should be doing.

She’d been reading Walter Scott’s epic poem, Marmion, when her thoughts had drifted to the conversation with Niall MacDonald.

Drat it. She glanced at the book now and smiled at Mrs. O’Connor.

“Unless a man lusting after a lady who is already betrothed to another shocks ye, no.”

The old lady shook her head. “I’m thinkin’ no much can shock me at my age,” she said and then smiled, a hint of a dimple in her right cheek. “Besides, I know how the tale ends.”

“Why didn’t ye say so?” Annie asked, closing the book. “I can find something else.”

“No need to be doin’ that,” Mrs. O’Connor answered. “I’m rather likin’ the idea that a nun who broke her vows gets walled up alive. ’Tis rather fittin’. One should always uphold an oath, don’t ye think?”

“Aye. A person should be held to account,” Annie replied.

Maybe if Broderick Fletcher, the miscreant who’d promised to fulfill her heart’s desire, had been more accountable…

Then she frowned. If she wanted to be honest with herself, she’d allowed the seduction, even if she foolishly had believed everything Broderick had said.

“What’s wrong, dearie?” Mrs. O’Connor asked. “Ye look a wee bit troubled.”

Annie shook her head to clear it. That whole, sordid mess had happened three years ago. Luckily, she hadn’t quickened with child, so there was no sense in dwelling on it. “It’s nothing. I was just thinking how true the line ‘What a tangled web we weave…’ is. Deception is never good.”

“A pity more people don’t remember that.” Mrs. O’Connor smiled again. “But the gallant knight is reunited with his betrothed, so Marmion has a happy ending.”

Annie smiled back. “Are ye a romantic? Someone who believes in happy endings?”

“Aye. Of course.” For a moment, the old lady’s eyes glazed as though she had slipped into another world and then she refocused. “My Gilbert and I had near fifty years together. And fine those years were.”

“Fifty years. It seems unbelievable.”

Mrs. James nodded. “And they went by like a salmon’s flash in the stream.”

“Did ye never argue?”

“Argue? Nary a day went by that we didn’t.” Mrs. O’Connor’s pale blue eyes twinkled. “But then, there was the putting-it-all-to-rights that followed. Mr. O’Connor had a talent for doing that, right up to the time he died.”

It took Annie a moment to realize what Mrs. O’Connor meant. “I dinnae…” Annie stammered, not sure how to continue.

The older lady smiled again, the dimple reappearing. “’Tis not just young folks that feel frisky, ye know. Some feelings don’t change just because we age.”

Annie felt her face heat. “I’m sorry! I dinnae mean it that way. I… ’Tis just that I doona think I could ever have such strong feelings for a…for anyone.”

Mrs. O’Connor tilted her head and studied Annie. “Not even for that young man who accompanied ye here this morning?”

Annie’s face warmed again and she shook her head quickly. “That man has been the bane of my existence for the last two weeks. He won’t leave me alone.”

“Perhaps he is smitten with ye, dearie.”

Annie gave an unladylike snort. “Hardly. He insists on escorting me every time I leave the house, as if I don’t have enough sense to take care of myself.”

“Why would he think that?” Mrs. O’Connor asked.

“I doona ken…” Annie shrugged. “Well, there was an incident where his sister-by-marriage and I were almost attacked, but—”

“Ah. And did the young man rescue ye?”

“Nae.” Annie shrugged again. “His brother did.”

“And ye could have been hurt,” Mrs. O’Connor said. “’Tis not a bad trait for a man to want to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Annie frowned. “I doona need a man to protect me.”

“Not even one so braw and handsome as him?” When Annie shook her head vehemently Mrs. O’Connor continued, “Ye have to admit, dearie, that he does present a formidable presence.”

Annie’s frown deepened. It might be true that more than one of her club members had gazed at Niall with interest, although she’d attributed that to his wearing a kilt the first time he escorted her to a meeting.

He’d had a broadsword strapped to his side and black-handled knives sticking out of each boot as well.

Who wouldn’t stare at someone dressed like that?

She had to admit that he did present a striking appearance.

His longish black hair that resembled a wild mane did make him look a little bit animalistic, too.

Mrs. O’Connor winked. “Ye might want to rethink.”

Annie felt herself blush again. She sincerely hoped this blushing thing wasn’t going to become a habit. It was quite annoying. Just like Niall MacDonald. “I doona need to rethink. I have nae need for a man in my life.”

“Ummm.”

Annie was tempted to ask what that meant, but she really didn’t want Mrs. O’Connor to indulge further in some fantasy of Annie being a damsel in need of rescuing by some knight errant.

She was not. “Truly. It seems some sort of punishment that the Fates landed Niall MacDonald at my mother’s boardinghouse.

There are plenty of other establishments around. ”

Mrs. O’Connor blinked. “Punishment? Ye are lookin’ at it wrong. ’Tis nae the Fates who have a hand in this. ’Tis the Fae.”

Annie blinked too. “The Fae?”

“Aye. Faeries. Sidhe. They do enjoy a bit of meddling, just like our Irish leprechauns.”

Annie opened her mouth, then closed it. Mrs. O’Connor had always seemed quite lucid, but perhaps at her age she was a trifle touched in the head. Right now, the elderly lady was tipping her head to one side like a bird and fixing a bright-eyed look on Annie.

“Ye don’t believe, do ye, dearie?”

“Ah…” Annie swallowed, not sure how to respond.

If Mrs. O’Connor was having a delusionary bout of some sort, would it be better to play along or to correct it?

She didn’t have experience with flights of fancy due to aging—or, for that matter, flights of fancy, period—but Annie had never been one to lead someone on.

She shook her head. “I doona think such creatures exist.”

Mrs. O’Connor was quiet for so long that Annie was afraid she’d insulted her. She was about to apologize when the woman smiled.

“Perhaps ye will one day.”

“Perhaps.” Annie wanted to say she doubted it, but she didn’t want to sound argumentative with the kindly, elderly lady.

“Good.” Mrs. O’Connor’s eyes brightened again. “’Tis all that can be asked.”

That remark left Annie feeling disconcerted, but before she could comment, one of the nuns came to escort Mrs. O’Connor to prayers. She turned in the doorway before she followed the sister out and looked back at Annie.

“Humor an old lady and don’t push that young man too far away, aye?”

“Aye,” Annie replied, more to appease Mrs. O’Connor than anything.

She suspected she wouldn’t have any more luck pushing Niall away figuratively than she would if she actually tried the physical act of moving him.

However, she might be able to elude him…

especially if she left the home early. The other lady she normally visited had her daughter here today, so there was no need to see her, which meant that Annie had nearly an hour free.

The club had scheduled a meeting at the tearoom near the toll booth. She hadn’t promised Niall she would wait for him after all. She had merely acquiesced.

So why wait? Nothing bad was going to happen in broad daylight.