The Harlot (Taskill Witches 1)

He’d thought she hadn’t noticed. He nodded.

Eagerly, she took the shawl from him and rubbed the soft woolen garment against her face. As he’d thought when he selected it, it matched her eyes. The cotton kerchief was equally welcomed, although it was with some regret he watched her cover her bosom as she wrapped it around her neck and shoved the tails into the front of her dress. With the shawl around her shoulders, she danced back and forth.

“I am decent,” she declared, with laugher in her voice.

Gregor had expected her to be delighted. In his experience women usually were when they rec

eived gifts. But there was a kind of awe about Jessie that surprised him. She had nothing, he realized.

It was many years since he had been that way himself, but he could still recall the night he had arrived at Dundee harbor, with just the clothes on his back. What he did have was the determination to find work and an ability to work hard. His drive had been fueled by bitterness and anger. It was lucky anyone took a risk on signing him up at all, but he’d found the captain of a frigate whose crew was a few men short. Hard labor was what he’d needed to work off some of his anger and grief, and he’d learned quickly, soon rising through the ranks when he showed a talent for navigation and gauging the winds. His father, Hugh, had taught him how to read the weather as they worked the land together, and his skills quickly adapted and grew.

Eventually he’d become master of his own destiny and accrued wealth. But he saw part of his young self reflected in Jessie’s expression, the grateful awe he had felt when he’d received his first earnings and was able to send money back to Craigduff so that his father’s grave would have a stone put upon it.

Reaching into his pocket, Gregor handed her the final item. It was a comb, crafted from a fine-grained piece of wood. Jessie took the offering somewhat cautiously, examining the paper it was wrapped in.

“Open it,” he urged.

She did so, and gasped when she saw it. “Oh, it is beautiful.”

To him it was a plain, serviceable item, but Jessie was delighted by it and immediately put it to use, combing it through the tails of her thick, wavy hair, chuckling to herself as her locks grew longer and straightened under the ministrations of the tool.

She honestly had nothing, he reflected once again. She’d mentioned that her purse was kept by her pimp. What was she saving for? He recalled some mention of traveling north. Did she have a child lodged somewhere? Whores invariably did, but he had seen no signs of childbirth upon her.

When she saw him watching, she blushed and pushed the comb into the pocket on her borrowed dress. “Thank you.”

She rubbed her hands on her shawl as if pleased, but he noticed that she looked a little concerned.

“What troubles you? You do not like the shawl?”

She seemed to consider her words carefully before she responded. “Will you take the cost of the clothing and the comb from the wage you promised me?”

Gregor frowned. It hadn’t occurred to him that she would think that. “No.”

Relief flooded her expression.

She was worried about the money. It was important to her. Of course it was, he surmised, with no small amount of self-mockery. Otherwise she’d be long gone by now.

“Will you take me down to the inn this evening, now that I am decent?”

Gregor immediately shook his head. “It is too much of a risk. Travelers from Dundee might pass by here.”

“I can disguise myself with the shawl.” She reached for his arm, imploring him. “I shall go mad locked up in here.”

Once again she was taking liberties with him. He felt a nerve in his cheek begin to twitch. “What?” He threw her a warning glance. “You told me you could break free from a cell without my help, and now you are complaining about being locked up here?”

She pouted, but she seemed amused by his remark.

Gregor sighed. “You always want to court danger,” he said on a more serious note.

“That is not so. I want to be safe, really I do. But I get terribly restless being in here for so long.” Her glance was pleading. “Just for a few minutes.”

“Liberties, Jessie, you are taking liberties.”

A hopeful smile lit her face. “I promise I will not ask about it anymore, and I will be good and quiet when you…lock me up in my room.”

That was made to make him feel guilty, he knew. Damn woman.

“I want you to know that I am doing this against my better judgment, and only to avoid seeing you in a mope.”