Page 7 of Glasgow Rogue

“How exciting! An actual job in a man’s world!” Cora exclaimed as Annie shared her news with the Progress Club in the tearoom the next afternoon.

“We’re so happy for ye!” Kiara added, while her twin nodded.

“What we really are,” Aileen said drily, “is jealous.”

Fenella practically bounced in her chair. “Tell us all about it!”

“Wait.” Deirdre opened her reticule and withdrew a small flask. “I think this calls for a celebration first.”

Everyone laughed and hurriedly drained the tea in their cups so Deirdre could pour the whisky she’d confiscated from her unsuspecting brother. Annie grinned too. They usually finished their meeting with a bit of uisge-beatha, but as Deirdre said, this was cause for celebration.

“Ye remember the man at Tuesday’s meeting who stood and said we should be allowed to speak?

” When everyone nodded, Annie continued, “Such a kind, wonderful gentleman he turned out to be,” she said and told the group what had transpired, finishing with another grin.

“Obviously, Mr. Haines is intelligent as well since he thought I would be perfect for the position.”

“Most men wouldn’t even consider hiring a woman,” Cora said wistfully.

“What did Niall—Mr. MacDonald—have to say about this?” Inis asked.

Annie shook her head. “He tried to dissuade me, of course. Said a warehouse was not the proper place for a woman.”

Aileen snorted. “Men think only one place is proper for a woman.”

Nairna frowned. “Men shouldn’t think all we can do is run a household—”

“I doona think Aileen meant that,” Deirdre said and poured a bit more whisky. “Most men think a woman’s proper place is in bed, lying beneath them naked.”

Nairna colored and her twin’s eyes went wide.

Annie felt a twinge of empathy for them since they were the youngest of the group, barely eight-and-ten, yet there was a shred of truth in Deirdre’s comment.

Annie had thought Broderick agreed with her when she’d told him of her ambitions, only to realize too late he only encouraged her to gain her trust. She felt her own face heat with shame and quickly took a swallow of whisky.

Deirdre glanced at her and raised both brows. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Nae,” Annie said. No one, not even her mother, knew what had transpired.

Her mortification wasn’t so much that the man had ruined her, as far as marital prospects went, but that he had laughed when she’d asked if he was going to propose after the deed was done.

He had laughed and asked why he should. She hadn’t been much older than the twins.

Just a foolish girl. “Nae,” she said again.

“Perhaps we should go back to the original topic,” Inis said. “Did Mr.MacDonald escort ye here today?”

Annie gave her a cursory glance. Inis certainly seemed to be interested in Niall since Tuesday. Not that Annie cared. “Aye,” she said, “but he went to the marine office to do some work.”

“Is he going to let ye walk home by yourself this time?” Aileen asked.

Annie tried not to squirm in her chair. Niall had made her promise not to leave without him. He’d even made her say the word twice, as though she didn’t understand what the word meant. “I told him I’d wait.”

When Aileen arched a brow, Inis intervened. “I think it very chivalrous of him.”

“Since when do we need chivalrous men?” Deirdre asked. “That’s just another way of ordering us around.”

“Is it? I must admit, I was a bit uncomfortable at the Tuesday meeting.” Inis shrugged. “Mr. MacDonald did make for an imposing figure draped in all that weaponry.”

“He wanted to make a statement,” Annie replied.

The twins giggled. “He did.”

Fenella laughed too. “I can just see him escorting Annie to the warehouse dressed like some medieval warrior. That ought to ensure Annie’s safety and impress even the dockworkers.”

“Is he planning to escort ye to work every day?” Aileen asked.

Unless she planned to shimmy down the rose trellis by her window before dawn every morning, yes. Even then, Annie wouldn’t be surprised if Niall were waiting on the ground. The man had an uncanny sense of timing. “He did mention something about it.”

Aileen snorted again. “If we want to be respected as independent women, we don’t need a man dogging our footsteps.”

Annie had lost that argument after the Virginia Street incident. “He calls it escorting me,” she said, hoping she sounded nonchalant. She didn’t even want to think what the group would say if they found out Niall planned to work with her as well.

“I think it is a courteous thing to do,” Inis said. Annie gave her a guarded look. How much of Inis’s interest was personal?

Not that Annie cared. She didn’t.

****

“Ye can leave me here,” Annie said to Niall the next morning as they approached the door to the office warehouse. “I doona think I’ll be accosted in the next fifteen feet or so.”

Niall’s jaw set. “I will see ye inside.”

Annie stopped, her hands on her hips. Good lord.

The last thing she needed was for Niall to walk in with her, wearing his tartan and all the same equipment as he’d worn to the Tuesday night meeting.

She doubted the king’s guard was that well armed.

“If ye escort me inside, it will look like I cannae handle this by myself. I am supposed to be the manager.”

“And I am going to make sure every man understands that,” Niall said and started walking toward the door.

“What? Wait!” Annie hurried after him and grabbed his arm. The muscle flexed beneath her fingers, as hard as granite. She dropped her hand quickly. “Ye cannae just go in there demanding such a thing!”

“I willnae demand. I will just tell them they will have to deal with me if—”

“Nae!” Annie managed to get herself in front of him, blocking his path.

He halted, so close that if one of them moved the slightest bit, she would be against his chest. A broad, chiseled chest that was probably equally hard as his arm.

His gray eyes turned dark. For one dizzying moment, she felt almost pulled toward him, to close the space between them.

Then she stepped back and licked her suddenly dry lips.

“I must earn the respect myself. Ye cannae force it.”

His gaze followed the movement of her tongue and then he looked back into her eyes. “Aye. Ye will have to earn their respect.” He stepped around her. “But having them see ye have a protector will make it easier.”

Annie started to refute that, but the stubborn man had already reached the door and was now holding it open for her. She sighed and picked up her skirts to climb the three steps. “Nae one word,” she hissed as she passed him.

Niall gave her an enigmatic smile which she chose to ignore and stepped inside.

The office was larger than she’d thought.

Her attention was immediately caught by the open area on her left.

It contained an ensemble of Sheraton furniture.

The dark blue velvet cushions of the cherrywood sofa contrasted nicely with the maple veneer along its back.

A low table of the same wood fronted the sofa and two padded chairs sat on either side, lyre-backs carved with bow-knotted wheat ears and sprays of other foliage.

A large watercolor of what Annie assumed was a southern plantation house on a cream-colored wall.

Light blue satin brocade drapes hung across the one window that fronted the street.

To her right was the expected work counter with a large, rolltop desk behind it and shelves full of ledgers along the wall. Mr. Haines rose from the desk.

“You are right on time, Miss Ferguson.” As he glanced at Niall, a slight flicker of annoyance crossed his face, which he quickly masked.

Annie couldn’t blame him for that. Niall’s insistence on coming inside was unneeded. “I always try to be prompt.”

“Excellent,” Mr. Haines replied and then gestured. “How do you like the office?”

“It looks like a parlor,” Niall said before Annie could respond. “I thought this was a place of business.”

Annie shot him a warning look and then smiled at Mr. Haines. “I like it. It feels homey.”

“My point. I see no reason not to surround myself with a few creature comforts even if…” Mr. Haines paused and gave Niall a pointed look. “…it is a place of business.”

Niall seemed oblivious. Instead, he pointed to a door on the far side of the room. “Does that lead to the warehouse?”

“Yes, but it’s restricted,” Mr. Haines said as Niall crossed the room and opened the door.

Niall glanced back. “I am representing Henderson Shipping and Henderson Shipping stores some of its stock here, nae? That gives me the right to inspect the place.” He turned and disappeared without waiting for an answer.

Annie bit back a groan. She knew what kind of an “inspection” Niall was about to make. And he was going to get an earful of what she thought about blundering through the warehouse with all his weaponry. “I am so sorry…” she started to say and then was surprised when Mr. Haines just smiled.

“Perhaps it is good that your…escort…sees where his products are. That way he will know everything is on the up-and-up and can only hold himself responsible for any mistakes in his shipments.”

“That is verra accommodating of ye, Mr. Haines,” Annie said.

She couldn’t imagine any mistakes being made regarding shipments, especially since she would be the one in charge of making sure counts were accurate, but she did appreciate Mr. Haines not taking offense. What a kind, understanding man he was.

****

Niall finished making entries in the shipping ledgers and laid down his pen, suppressing a yawn.

Accounting was definitely the most boring thing he’d ever done.

He glanced at the brass clock on the wall, startled that it was already late afternoon.

He’d spent hours with the damn books. No wonder he was bored.