The Libertine (Taskill Witches 2)

Chloris acted quickly. “Thank you, Maura, you may go about your chores.”

Maura bobbed a curtsy and scurried off.

Tamhas stood in silence for a moment, observing his cousin.

Chloris shifted the items on her writing box, and then smiled his way. “Your hearings have gone well this morning, cousin?”

“Well enough.” He made his way over to her, glancing down at the page she was writing on as he passed behind her. For a moment he stared out of the window at the gardens, and then he turned to her. “Jean has expressed concern. She tells me that you went riding alone early in the morning yesterday.” He assessed her as he spoke.

Chloris maintained her poise, but his questioning made her uneasy. “I found it most reviving. The spring air seems to improve my health.”

And the Witch Master. Why, oh, why could she not stop the thoughts spilling within her mind, images of the magical, passionate encounters that were making her health more robust.

He considered her at length. “You do look well, quite rosy-cheeked, in fact.”

The reason for the bloom in her was his lingering magic and passion, for she still felt Lennox’s hands on her, molding her to him as they coupled in the bluebell glen.

“Thank you, Tamhas. I am grateful that you allowed me to visit at this time.” Her voice faltered as she spoke. She hoped he would not notice her state of agitation.

Tamhas moved closer and perched on the desk where she was working. This had the unfortunate circumstance of bringing his torso far too close for comfort.

“I wondered if Jean’s fortuitous news might be an upsetting matter for you.”

Chloris was in the process of moving her chair back slightly when he made the comment, and jolted to a standstill, staring at him aghast. “Why, no, I am delighted for her. Despite the fact I have not been able to bear children myself, as yet, it does not mean that I resent others who have found it easier.”

Tamhas nodded, vaguely, and then he studied her figure at length as if he might determine the cause for her lack of fertility. His mouth moved into a rather lascivious smile. “Perhaps I can be of assistance?”

Chloris swallowed. His meaning was quite obvious, and it shocked her to the core. Tamhas was forthright, and he had made lewd enough suggestions to her before, when she was a young girl and his ward. That was when they were both unmarried, however, and over time she had dismissed his flirtatious approach as the jest of a young man. A man who found himself with wealth and power before he had developed the maturity to manage it.

Chloris attempted an appropriate response. “You are being of assistance, allowing me this time of recuperation here at Torquil House.”

“Come now, Chloris. Don’t be coy. You know I have always found you an attractive woman, and a fine mistress you would have made for this house.” A flicker of annoyance showed in his expression for a moment, forcing her to acknowledge his deeper motives. “I have sired three children with my wife now, and there are many more out there who could call me father.”

“I’m not sure you should be sharing such information with me, especially when I am growing close to Jean.”

Tamhas shrugged one shoulder. “Jean is content.” Again he studied her, his gaze lingering around her bosom. “I could make you content, too. In fact,” he added, “I’d put money on you accepting my seed well enough.”

Instinctively Chloris turned her face away from him, but he only seemed to see it as an opportunity to reach out and grasp her hand, making a physical connection with her that she did not want. He squeezed her hand, forcing her to look back at him.

“I have made an offer, consider it well, cousin.” The look in his eyes was cold. He was irritated because she had not immediately capitulated. “You might have better luck with a different lover. Most women in your situation would grasp any opportunity to fall pregnant. You are thirty years old and your husband will soon be seeking a more fruitful union elsewhere.”

Chloris was well aware of the truth in what he was saying to her, but still she smarted. It was not only that he was saying it aloud, it was his coldness in delivering the information. It also suddenly seemed as if everyone in the world was privy to her secret failures. Not only that but they were all too willing to comment freely on it, and that was not easy for her. With Lennox she had been compelled to open herself to him, but she had not invited this discussion with Tamhas. It made her even more wary of Tamhas than she already was.

“It would be better that such a union be with a well-to-do, upstanding man,” Tamhas continued, “someone who has your best interests at heart.”

Upstanding? What upstanding man would make such a suggestion under the very roof he shared with his wife?

It was difficult not to point out she understood him better than he realized. Tamhas could not afford to have her turned out or wandering in mind or body. She had been Tamhas’s ward until she turned marriageable age and she had been a canny investment for him. Her inheritance was substantial and what there was he split with her husband at the time of the marriage, and he still had an obligation to Gavin. No doubt he had been paid well by her husband to keep her away from Edinburgh for a period of time, and to return her in good health and ready to bear him a son. If Tamhas was to secretly father her child it merely secured her position as Gavin’s wife and therefore secured his dealings with Gavin.

Chloris had never felt more alone.

* * *

“Lennox, a letter has arrived for you.” Ailsa stood in the arched entrance of the old barns. Sunset was close and Lennox was toiling hard with the other men in the fading light, building the framework for a covered carriage. Since Master MacDougal had praised their talents and he had been given access to the council, several requests for their craftsmanship had already been received. Despite Keavey’s attempts to thwart him, and the delay for the guild, he had already begun to gain favor.

Lennox wiped his brow and set down his tools before striding over to take the letter from her. He examined the seal. He did not recognize it. “Who brought it?”

“Maura Dunbar carried it from the Keavey house.”