The Harlot (Taskill Witches 1)

“I am most eager to buy land in Fife, somewhere with sound agricultural prospects. Somewhere I can attract good tenants to work the land while I am abroad.”

The auctioneer nodded, his fingers tapping at the button on his velvet coat. That he mistrusted Gregor’s intentions was more than obvious. “You have come to the right place,” he responded.

Gregor could not afford to be viewed skeptically.

“Notary Anderson recommended you. Please, speak to him about me. He will assure you I am financially solvent and in favorable account with my banker.”

Both men were also under strict instructions not to reveal more about Gregor than that he was a merchant trader with some wealth who wished to settle here.

The mention of a common acquaintance eased the discussion somewhat. However, when Gregor asked about specific areas of land that might be put up for sale, the man’s expression once again grew shuttered. “I am not at liberty to divulge such information.”

The auctioneer should welcome custom. Had the years of war with the English brought such cautious attitudes about? Gregor gritted his teeth for a moment, aware that his impatience was getting the better of him—either that or all that talk of dresses and fripperies had addled his mind.

Buying land was not something he had experience of and he had no idea of the customs. In his line of trade decisions about who to trust had to be fast and instinctive, and a potential deal was always open to negotiation.

“Perhaps I should explain. I am eager to procure some land in this region because I am a seafaring man and want to build up a more solid inheritance for my offspring. I am not from these parts, but my mother’s line was and I find it most appealing for that reason.”

“The usual course of events would be to show yourself at the time of the sale.”

“Of course,” Gregor agreed, “and I will be here for as long as it takes. Please be assured of my seriousness on this matter. I have planned for this for many a year, while at sea.”

The man contemplated him, stroking his chin as he did so. “It is unusual for us to find a gentleman who has recently traveled abroad so interested in purchasing land in these parts. Especially so in light of the troubles and changes the English have put upon our laws, our government and our people.”

He paused and his lips tightened for a moment. “Our custom is usually local, and is made up of goods and chattels. Land does pass through my hands, but not often. Even less common is it anticipated by an eager customer.” He mustered a cautious smile.

Gregor relaxed somewhat. “I have faith in my Scottish brothers, and trust that better times lie ahead.” He lifted his eyebrows to infer his meaning.

The auctioneer nodded, approving his comment.

He had good reason to be suspicious, although the English were more likely to send their soldiers in to take what they wanted, striking down anyone who stood in their way, than pay for it in the proper manner. However, the more encouraging news was that the auctioneer was not going to turn away a potential customer, merely question his motives.

“There may be land suitable for your requirements at some point in the future.”

“In that case I will lodge a down payment with you now. If any property comes up in the region, I wish to buy it. Please consider my bid higher than any other you might get.”

The scribe, who had continued working throughout the discussion, paused. The scratch of his quill was notable by its absence.

The man glanced at his assistant and pursed his lips. “I am unable to accept a down payment under those terms. It would not be fair to my client or my other customers. We do not suffer collusion or any attempts to manipulate the bidding in this house. All items have to go in a fair and open auction.”

Gregor thought he saw regret in the auctioneer’s expression as the scratch of the scribe’s quill recommenced.

Gregor had the feeling the man might have taken his bribe had they not had a witness. There was land in the offing, and if Robert’s information was correct it was Ivor Wallace’s. Gregor could not, however, be sure of that, nor could he take it for granted. That was where Jessie would prove useful.

Once again he attempted to reel in his impatience. Bribery had served him well in the past, both as a means to get what he wanted, and, when he was on the receiving end of a bribe, a way to make money fast. Then again, he had few morals when he had a goal to acquire. The auctioneer was obviously a much more worthy man than he. It was difficult not to insist, however. Gregor had other things to do. Establishing a relationship with the auctioneer should have been quick and easy. He was eager to be on his way and back to the more pressing job of tutoring Jessie for the task ahead.

“Can you give me a date for the next appropriate sale?”

The man shook his head. “There is a sale in the process of being prepared, but the owner has not yet decided which fields he wishes to part with.”

Gregor nodded.

“Perhaps I can let you know when the date is set?”

Gregor considered the offer, but could not afford to give details of his whereabouts, in case word got about. News of a stranger with an interest in local land would soon capture the imagination, and he didn’t want Wallace to have any idea he was in the area.

“Please, inform Notary Anderson.” He rose to his feet. “I hope we can do business soon. I will return later in the month to see if you have that date for me.”

The gentleman became most obsequious as Gregor made his way out, encouraging him to return, apologizing that he could not be more forthcoming on this occasion. As Gregor took his leave he was more convinced than ever that it was the right thing to send Jessie in to Wallace’s home, Balfour Hall. She was a canny lass and she would listen and learn. He would have the information soon enough.