Page 20 of Glasgow Rogue

Aidan laughed. “Which means she has nae succumbed to your charms.”

Niall snorted. “Charms? The lass will nae even accept a compliment.”

“That’s a first for ye.”

“Aye, well. ’Tis nae the topic.” Niall was pretty sure Annie didn’t take compliments seriously from anyone, but he didn’t understand why.

Most women craved them, even when they knew the comments were insincere.

They enjoyed flirtation. Not Annie though.

She acted like such a thing was an insult.

That confounded him too. Annie was certainly pretty enough and, when her mouth wasn’t sparking fire at him, quite a good conversationalist, quick-witted and well-informed.

He did like her, he realized. She did have intelligence.

She could think. She just wouldn’t listen to him. He sighed.

“Annie talks of wanting to be more than is often a woman’s lot. That they want to be bankers and solicitors and such. I ken that is the Progress Club’s purpose.”

“Unfortunately, Britain is nae ready to entertain those ideas,” Aidan replied.

“Ye doona have to tell me,” Niall said. “I think Annie kens that will nae happen, but her group sees getting the skilled jobs that weavers and wrights and cordwainers have as a start.”

Aidan grimaced. “None of those are easy jobs.”

“True, but the wages are far more than women’s jobs pay,” Niall answered. “ Nae depending on a man for support is important to them.”

“Do they nae realize how angry men become with just the thought of a woman replacing one of them?” Aidan asked. “Those workers came prepared to throw rotten fruit Monday night.”

“Exactly what I have been trying to tell Annie.” Niall lifted his hands in the air and slumped back in his chair. “Now ye understand the problem. She does nae listen to what I have to say. The lass is too headstrong, obstinate, unbending—”

“I think ye have already covered those traits,” Aidan said, “but ye are nae her husband and cannae order her to stop.”

There was that phrase again. Nae her husband. Annie had used those words herself. “I doona think she would listen to a husband if she had one.”

Aidan nodded. “Ye are probably right. Alasdair doesn’t fare well anytime he attempts to order Bridget about or Robert either when it comes to his wife, Shauna. But ye are doing all ye can to protect Annie.”

“Well, ’tis one more thing I can do.”

“Which is?”

Niall pulled a small dagger from inside a hidden sheath in his belt. “I can teach her to use this.”

Aidan eyed the sharp knife. “Ye may want to rethink that. Given the lass’s temper, she might be inclined to turn it on ye.”

“Nae man has ever bested me with a knife.”

“But a lass might, if ye let down your guard,” Aidan said. “Annie is a most unusual woman.”

Niall grinned. That she was.

****

An unusual woman. Aidan had no idea of how right he was, Niall thought on Saturday morning as he and Annie stood in the small yard behind the boardinghouse. Not only had she learned the art of throwing a knife quickly, she was also hitting the target on the tree almost dead center.

“I think ye did nae tell me the whole truth when we began this lesson,” Niall said as he pulled the dagger out of the tree bark. “Ye have done this before, aye?”

“Nae with a real knife.”

“All knives are real. Ye mean with a dull blade?”

Annie shook her head. “I used to practice throwing sticks at that tree.”

Niall would have smiled, but Annie looked so serious. “Were ye pretending to be a warrior, then?”

She hesitated. “Something like that.”

He had no trouble imagining Annie playacting the part. He doubted she’d ever been a docile lass staying indoors to keep her dresses clean. “So, did ye win?”

The pause was a little longer this time. “Nae. He…that is, the tree is still standing.”

It would have been a humorous remark, except that her tone was flat.

Niall furrowed his brows. Annie had said he before she changed it.

Had some man in the past tried to attack her?

Niall didn’t think she meant the recent attempts, since she said she’d used to practice.

He started to ask, but she was holding her hand out for the blade, a determined look on her face.

Niall handed her the knife. His question would have to wait.

“Try hurling it a little harder this time.”

His words were barely out of his mouth when she let fly. The aim went wide, the weapon skittering off the side of the tree. Annie muttered something undistinguishable under her breath. Niall gave her a covert glance as he went to retrieve the knife.

“A word of advice, lass. Never let emotion control your throw.”

She frowned. “What do ye mean?”

This time, he was the one to pause. “Either anger or fear will break your concentration.”

Her chin lifted and she held her hand out for the knife. This time, she took careful aim, moved her left foot slightly forward for balance and took a deep breath as he’d instructed her to. The blade hit center.

“Verra good!”

“Thank ye.” Her lips lifted in a slight smile. “Now I will ken what to do if I meet a tree I doona like.”

Niall smiled too, glad to see whatever had been bothering her seemed to have disappeared.

“Now I want to show ye how to use the blade in close quarters.” He stepped forward and grasped her wrist before she realized what he was doing and then pressed his thumb in a strategic place between her knuckles that caused her hand to open. The knife clattered to the ground.

“’Tis nae fair! I dinna ken ye were going to do that.”

“Ye will nae get fair warning if a man intends to accost ye.”

“Then tell me what I’m supposed to do.”

As she bent down to pick up the blade, Niall stepped to one side and reached around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides as he picked her up. She let out a surprised squeal.

“Let me go!” She squirmed furiously against him. “What do ye think ye are doing?”

Niall set her down, all too aware of how the undersides of her breasts had grazed the tops of his arms as she wiggled.

How lush and surprisingly heavy they were.

And how delicious her backside had felt against his groin as she struggled to get free.

This might not have been the best idea he’d ever had.

He stepped away, glad for once that he was wearing breeches that at least kept his obvious reaction in check.

Annie’s reaction was obvious too, only it wasn’t amorous. Her face was red and she scowled.

“Why did ye do that?”

“I wanted to impress on ye how quickly ye could be overcome.”

Her eyes shot blue flames at him. “’Tis a good thing I doona have that knife.”

“Aye, ’tis,” Niall said and retrieved it in one fluid motion and then carefully sheathed it inside his belt. “I think we’ll be using a blunt stick as I teach ye to defend yourself, since I prefer to keep all my parts attached.”

Her face went crimson and Niall hoped he hadn’t pushed her too far. He wanted her a little angry so he would be able to point out to her where her weakness lay in defense. He walked to the tree and picked up a stout twig that had fallen and then went back to hand it to her.

“Pretend this is a knife. Come at me. Give it your best thrust.” He felt his cock stir as soon as the word was out. Thrust may not have been the best word to bring to mind.

For a moment Annie glared at him and then she slashed out.

He blocked the move, caught her wrist again, spinning her around, careful not to apply real pressure as he brought her arm behind her.

Once again, she was pressed against him.

He felt her chest heave. It took every ounce of his willpower not to let the arm encircling her waist creep upward. Damnation. Every time he touched her—

“Ouch!” Niall dropped his hands as he hopped on one foot. Annie had brought her heel down—hard—on his other one.

Annie stepped away, looking a bit triumphant. “I did say I could defend myself.”

“Aye.” Niall put his foot down gingerly, grateful she hadn’t gone for another part of his anatomy. “Well done.”

She worried her lip. “I dinnae hurt ye, did I?”

“Doona fash about hurting your opponent, lass. ’Tis what ye are supposed to do.”

“But I…we…are nae really opponents. I doona want to harm—”

“That kind of thinking can get ye hurt or killed,” Niall said. “If ye are attacked, ye doona have time to think of what the cur’s intentions are. Assume the worst.”

Annie’s eyes widened. “I…hadn’t thought…”

“Exactly,” Niall replied. “Ye need to react quickly, as if ’tis second nature.”

“I am nae a fighter,” Annie said.

“Ye are more fighter than ye think,” Niall answered, “but men will nae be expecting ye to have the skills.” He picked up the stick from where it had dropped.

“Now let me show ye the way to thr-, to hold the knife so ye can do the most damage in the least amount of time.” When she looked doubtful, he added, “The idea is to get away, nae stay and engage.”

Annie looked at the proffered stick, but she didn’t take it. “I am nae sure—”

“Ye have to decide, lass.” Niall grinned. “If ye would rather I increase my presence at your side, I can do that.”

Annie frowned and grabbed the stick.

****

“How many more of them are there?” Kiara asked the next morning as the club gathered outside the cathedral. They’d waited for the church service to begin, since they had no intention of entering, but Annie knew Kiara wasn’t referring to any of the parishioners.

She was referring to the three Highlanders who stood a few yards behind them.

Aidan had joined Niall and Owen, all three of them in tartans and armed to the teeth.

Annie wouldn’t have been surprised to see Niall wearing the huge claymore that Alasdair had left behind, not that he needed a weapon that would mow down men like a scythe to wheat.

This was a Sunday morning in a civilized city, after all.

“Niall says he has seven more brothers at home,” Annie said.

“Mercy,” Kiara answered. “Are they all good-looking?”

“I doona ken. I’ve nae seen them.”