The Harlot (Taskill Witches 1)

Gregor’s mood was somber as he considered her words. “Be sure that is how things remain. Promise me you will not use magic when anyone else is there?”

That was difficult to promise, since she might need it to protect herself. “Please do not fret, Gregor.”

He was silent awhile, but his restlessness did not abate, as if a deep unhappiness pervaded his soul. “Has Wallace tried to touch you?”

Jessie drew a deep breath. “Scarcely. The will is there, but he has other concerns at the moment.”

Gregor did not seem convinced. “There is no need to go back. You have brought more than enough information already.”

“We do not know when the land will go to auction,” she answered. “That information will help you, and then you will be rid of this need to avenge your father.”

He considered her silently before he replied. “The date of the sale does not matter. I will wait close to Saint Andrews until it is time. I have told the auctioneer I will pay him well, and he will tell me when the time comes. Please, Jessie. You have more than earned your wages. Leave with me now and you can be on your way to the Highlands in the morning.”

On her way to the Highlands.

A few days ago she would have grabbed the opportunity and would be making merry as she went on her way. Instead, the thought made her heart sink. If she were to leave in the morning, she would never see Gregor again. That time would come soon enough, she knew, but she wasn’t ready yet.

Deep in her heart she felt it was not the right time, because she was just starting to learn things for him. Or am I just blinding myself to the fact that I have grown to care for this man and cannot bear the idea of bidding him a final farewell?

“His suspicions will be raised if I leave now.” Stubbornly, she rose to her feet and straightened her clothing. “I will go back to the house now. I have to return the papers, or this auction will not go ahead at all. You know that much is true.”

He gave a frustrated sigh and made ready to leave the stall. “I suppose you are right.”

When they arrived at the entrance, she studied him in the better light. “I will keep my ears and eyes open, and meet you here tomorrow night.”

There was a frown creasing his forehead. “Make ready to leave soon.”

“Soon, yes.”

“And you will not seduce him?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, Gregor, I will not seduce him, despite the fact that is what you spent so long training me to do.”

Gregor’s mood remained serious. In fact, he seemed almost woebegone as he considered her remark. “I confess that the idea torments me. Wallace is my enemy, and I would not wish him on any woman. In our short acquaintance I have come to realize it was wrong of me to expect that of you.”

For some odd reason Jessie felt as if both tears and laughter were about to assault her. But when she saw his serious expression she quelled the laughter and dabbed at her eyes, blinking away the emotion. “I will be safe. Now let me finish what I promised I would do for you.”

“You are a headstrong woman. I can tell you are set on this, but I would be happier if you left with me now.”

“Those words make me stronger.” Her heart brimmed. “Promise me this—that when we are done with this task you will hold me and kiss me while I wear my blue silk gown one last time, before we say farewell.”

He snatched her against him. “The gown is yours.” He kissed her mouth, softly brushing her lips with his. “I promise.”

She melted into him, her head tipping back.

It was even harder to part than it had been the night before. They lingered there at the corner of the manor house exchanging long kisses, their fingers entwined, their bodies pressed together.

Eventually she drew away and placed her fingers to his lips.

The feeling of elation that had encompassed her slowly ebbed as she parted from him. When she reached the door, she glanced through the small windowpane, a feeling of trepidation rising. Inside, the kitchen was all in darkness. She’d told Gregor she was safe. Was she? Drawing a deep, steadying breath, Jessie opened the door and crept inside.

Once her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom she made her way through the passageways and into the grand hallway beyond. It was then that a feeling of extreme unease took hold of her. Squinting in the gloomy hallway, she looked toward her destination, the room with the cabinet, where the lists must be returned. Under her shawl, she gripped the rolled papers tightly. Then registered the fact that the parlor door had opened.

Cormac emerged. A bottle dangled from his hand, one he had purloined from the master’s special supply that he kept in that room, no doubt.

Jessie stepped to the far side of the hallway, into the shadows, and flattened herself against the wall. Holding her breath, she listened. It was with a sinking feeling that she realized he was turning the key in the lock. If he took it with him, or hid it, she would have to use her magic, and that would take her longer to return the documents.

The soft scuff of stocking feet on the polished wood floor grew nearer, and she closed her eyes and muttered an enchantment. It was something she had never tried before—to slip into the shadows and be as one with them. With her finger, she drew an imaginary curtain closed in front of her. It was something Lennox had done, to scare them witless. There was no telling if it would work, and she forced herself to open her eyes, peer through the hazy cover and watch.