“Here, take this parcel. Cook’s filled it full of bannock cakes and an’ other things for the journey.” Caitrìona pushed the knapsack towards Teasag, from the threshold to the McCallum castle.

Uncertain, Teasag looked at what Caitrìona was holding, peering through her heavy woolen hood. It might have been July, but it was, as ever, raining.

Now a lairdess, Caitrìona looked even more radiant. Her thick black hair was clipped neatly into a French hood glimmering with pearls and gemstones, making her every inch the laird’s wife. Teasag gazed up at the sweeping white arisaid and tartan sash across her shoulders with awe.

“Ye should get into the keep,” said Teasag, her voice hiding her envy of Caitrìona’s intricate French hairstyle. Her already natural curls had been set to good effect at the front of the heart-shaped hood, whilst at the back, her locks were twisted inside the bejeweled head-covering.

“The rain will ruin the crimping,” she said. And she should know. It had taken hours to set Caitrìona’s hair right.

“Och, nae fash! Yer my auldest friend here, an’ I’m coming to see ye off, although I heartily wish ye werenae going!” Caitrìona announced. She might look like something out of Queen Mary’s court, but it wasn’t going to stop her from hitching up her skirts and fighting with Teasag if that was needed.

Caitrìona handed the large knapsack to Teasag, heaving with every kind of sweetmeat imaginable. Into her opened palm, she placed a silver coin.

“Take it,” said Caitrìona.

Teasag stared down at the shining coin. “Och, I couldnae,” she said, pushing it back to Caitrìona. But when she looked, there was steel in Caitrìona’s eyes.

“Aye, ye could, ye can, an’ ye will!” insisted Caitrìona, and Teasag could see that she was not going to let go of this one. Grudgingly, she took it.

“Thank ye,” she said. “Both of ye,” she added. Although Ualan was not present that miserable morning, Teasag knew that the gifts had really come from him. “An’ I’ll pay ye back every penny!” she said fervently.

“I dinnae want paying!” said Caitrìona, suddenly hugging her friend. “I just want things to work out alright for ye.”

“They will,” said Teasag assuredly, fighting back the tears. “Once I reach my brother in Blackness, I will send message to ye!” she said. Her words sounded resolute, but inside, her heart wavered.

Although she was all set on leaving, a little part of her was still unsure. Everything she knew was in this village.

“I still dinnae ken why ye have to go,” said Caitrìona miserably. “There’ll always be a room for ye here!”

“I ken,” said Teasag. “An’ I’m grateful for everything ye’ve done for me, especially on making me head housemaid…but…” Teasag faltered.

She did not want to seem ungracious. Caitrìona and Ualan had done so much for her since their wedding, but all her thoughts were set on leaving. She chewed her lip, wondering how to broach the subject. “But, if I dinnae leave, then I will ne’er ken if I can find my fortune…like ye did,” she explained.

Caitrìona softened. “I, I ken,” she said fondly. “But just make sure ye remember to visit us!”

“I will,” said Teasag softly. The pair hugged again, and she set off on the lonely path that led through the glen.

###

“It’s just to the left, an’ inside there, Miss,” said the young cartman, pulling up in the narrow side street.

Warily, Teasag got out. They had been on the road for many hours, and now she was weary. Although she had not yet reached her destination, it was impossible to go any further now.

It wasn’t hard to find the tavern. Even without the lad’s directions, the raucous noise from inside the White Hart Tavern made it clear where it was. And if there was any doubt, the smell of spirits spilling out into the rain outside was a giveaway.

For a moment, Teasag dawdled on the threshold, deliberating. If there could have been some way to reach her destination sooner, she would have taken it. But it was impossible to travel further tonight, and it was either this or sleep in the streets.

Spurred on by this thought, Teasag steeled herself and pushed open the oak door.

The thickly-packed barroom came to an almost total standstill as she picked her way through it. Sweating slightly, Teasag kept her head firmly down as she made her way to the bar. But this didn’t stop the heat from dozens of eyes bore into her.

The room was crowded and filled with the thick musk of men and whisky. Even without looking, Teasag knew everyone was looking at her, but she did not flinch as she reached the bar.

Behind the wooden bar, the taverner glanced up. When he did, Teasag almost yelped in shock. The unfortunate man’s face was covered in pockmarks and pimples. And although not old, when he smiled, he revealed a complete absence of teeth.

“What can I get ye, Miss?” asked the man wearily. He was perhaps thirty-five years old, but his sagging skin made him seem older. “Yer nae from around here, are ye?”

“Nae,” said Teasag bluntly. “I’m here for the night an’ need to take lodgings,” she said, quickly looking around. All the eyes in the barroom were still firmly on her, and when she turned around, the men watching didn’t even pretend not to stare.

“That’s nae problem, darlin’,” said a man, suddenly, nudging her from behind. In an instant, his hot hands were upon her behind, making her freeze uncomfortably. “Ye can be my guest if ye like, an’ it won’t even cost ye anything!”

A raucous laughter gathered force, rippling through the packed barroom and sending the drinkers further towards her.

“Och, come an’ sit wi’ me, darling!” another said, his hands coming up beside her and attempting to get under her arisaid. Furiously, Teasag beat them off.

“Nae,” she cried ferociously, but inside, her scared heart was beating in triple time. This was just as she had feared. The last thing she had wanted to do was to come into a strange tavern alone. But with nowhere else to go, there had been no choice.

“Och, dinnae be like that, sweetheart,” said another, sticking his flushed red face straight at her. His arm hovered near, making a cack-handed attempt at squeezing her rear. Slowly, he smiled a bawdy grin at her, his crooked teeth showing. “Noo then, yon maid, what say ye get friendly wi’ me an’ my friends?”

All the men around her guffawed as she pulled back, trying to avoid their hands. The red-faced man came closer, pressing his enormous belly right at her. Incensed, Teasag swiveled around, almost striking him.

“Dinnae ye dare!” she cried. “Tak’ yer hands off me! Landlord! Control yer men!”

General laughter rippled around the barroom. Evidently, no one was going to do anything. Realizing that this was a mistake, Teasag grabbed her drink and tried to beat a retreat back through the packed tavern.

Except she couldn’t. Immediately, something firm and fleshly pressed into her. When she looked up, she saw the red-faced man. He had boxed her into a corner by the wall, and his rotund belly made it impossible to get by.

Writhing to get free, Teasag spat in the man’s eye. Instantly, he raised his hand to slap her.

“Get off her!” said a voice from behind. Then there was mayhem.

Behind her, there was some shoving and a yell as a pair of hands yanked the red-faced man out of the way.

“Get out afore I wring yer miserable neck!” the unseen man said. Still getting her breath back, Teasag struggled to compose herself.

“Come on,” the man said in a soft but confident voice. His sturdy hand led her away, gently to a nearby seat. “Let’s sit ye doon, lassie, an’ get a wee dram inside ye!”

Even before she looked at him, Teasag felt she could instinctively trust the owner of this voice. He was so softly spoken and kind, nothing like the men who had tried to grab her.

“Th-thank ye,” said Teasag, still a little shaken. She looked over to the young man for the first time, offering him her hand.

He was roughly six feet in height, with shiny brown hair which fell to his shoulders and the most sparkling pair of eyes she had ever seen on a man. She guessed he must be her age, in his early twenties.

“Well, ye seem to have caused quite a stir, young lassie?” he said, sitting her down and casting his piercing almond eyes over her. “That’s usually my job – giving folks something to fash about!”

Teasag didn’t know what to say and just cast her eyes down. The lad laughed slightly.

“Just as well I was here, is’t nae?” he said, cockily, casting his vivid blue eyes at her.

Teasag felt herself falling into his gaze.

“I, I – yes it was, sir,” she said stiffly. She still wasn’t sure who the lad was. From his clothes, it didn’t seem he was of the , but then from his well-finished plaid and sprightly pair of ghillies, he wasn’t a pauper, either. For all she knew, he could be the son of a local landowner. Either way, his self-confidence impressed her enough to tread carefully.

“It’s nae fash, Miss,” he said pleasantly, but something in his tone suggested he was highly amused. When she glanced up, he grinned mischievously. “But I cannae get ye a drink if I dinnae ken yer name,” he said.

“I’m Teasag,” she said primly. “An’ who are ye?” she tried to be proper, but the lad’s handsome features meant she gazed for rather longer than she needed to. His bright blue eyes seemed to laugh at her, but she didn’t know why.

The man smiled, showing off his pearly teeth, making Teasag wonder afresh if he were a noble, as they were so perfect. And as she looked closer, she couldn’t help admiring his soft skin and sculpted cheekbones, giving him a graceful, yet determined air.

“Och, me? They call me Neacal,” he said with a dark smile. “Ye’ll soon find out about me.”

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