The Libertine (Taskill Witches 2)

Gregor’s head lifted, the look in his eyes sharpening.

Lennox nodded his way. “Aye, the soldiers will be swarming after my people as well as the two of you, by now.”

“In that case,” Gregor said, rising to his feet, “we will form the plan as we go. We had better be on our way, and be quick about it.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“Mary, I will be out making calls later this afternoon. Would you please lay out my cloak and walking boots?”

“Yes, mistress.” Mary hurried off, leaving Chloris to her embroidery.

It would be her second day of seeking word of a position that she might be suitable for. The previous day had resulted in sympathy from the two good friends she had called upon. The details of her failing marriage were greeted with curiosity, but not with surprise. It seemed she was the only one who was blind to the inevitable turn of events.

It also resulted in one hopeful offer of assistance, a possible post as a companion to an elderly widow whose hearing was failing. Someone else had been recommended, but it was not clear whether the post had yet been filled. If it had, she would keep searching. She would call upon all the women she knew in order to find employment.

She had many skills. Her sewing was good. She could also teach, and she would find a way to forge her own path in this world. Above all it gave her hope and something to occupy her mind, when her aching heart threatened to fill her thoughts with despair. Chloris thought she’d known low spirits before, but she had not. The sense of loss she experienced was like none other.

Moreover, it was only a matter of time until Gavin forced himself upon her, or punished her for her contrary behavior. There was nowhere else for her to go, not immediately, but she feared she could not abide Gavin’s ways now, not since she had tasted something of freedom and respect. She could not return to Saint Andrews for fear of endangering Lennox and those he protected. Previously, she thought her few weeks of happiness would carry her through difficult times ahead. Now she knew it would only make it more difficult to endure.

So she prepared herself for a new life, one that was as yet unknown to her.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

Mary entered the drawing room and drew her attention. “You have a visitor, mistress.”

“I am not expecting anyone to call.” Chloris frowned, then wondered if it was news of the post mentioned the day before. She rose to her feet. “Is it someone carrying a letter?”

“No. It is a woman.”

Chloris immediately thought of the woman she had discovered with Gavin on her return. “My husband’s night visitor?”

Mary shook her head. “It is a tradeswoman at the door, mistress. She wishes to show you her wares.”

Chloris frowned. Gavin had a strict policy on such things and she was surprised that Mary had not followed his instructions without drawing it to her attention. “The master allows no tradespeople into the house.”

“The woman is most insistent, and she...well, she somehow made me believe you would want to receive her.” Mary frowned. “That is why I thought I ought to mention it.” Mary looked every bit as confused as Chloris felt. “The woman said to tell you she has lace for you, the lace that you purchased from her in the market at Saint Andrews.”

Chloris felt light-headed.

Lace, from the market in Saint Andrews? She cast her mind back. Yes, she had looked at lace with Jean, but her thoughts had been entirely elsewhere, for that was when she had seen Lennox. Then he had stood behind her and whispered to her. She could not even recall the face of the lace maker, and although she had feigned interest in Jean’s purchases, she’d bought none of her own. As she tried to order her thoughts on the matter, one image stayed solid in her mind—the sight of Lennox across Market Street, watching them, smiling her way and making that secret connection with her.

Her heart beat hard and fast. She put her sewing aside and nodded at Mary. “In that case you’d best show her in.”

When Mary disappeared, Chloris stood perfectly still and watched the doorway with great curiosity. A few moments later, Mary showed a young woman in. In her arms the woman carried a basket that was covered over by a lace cloth.

When she entered the room she stared at Chloris with great curiosity. “Thank you for admitting me.” The woman dropped a quick curtsy. “I have brought your lace, and I have some other items that may be of interest to you.”

Chloris felt irresistibly drawn to the young woman, as if a secret would be revealed within the woman’s basket. The young woman’s eyes burned bright blue, as if sunshine was captured there. Chloris pressed her hand to her breastbone in an attempt to remain steady. She felt quite light-headed but suffused with warmth, as she often had when Lennox performed his rituals with her. The significance of the encounter dawned on her. The young woman was one of his kind, a witch.

The visitor seemed to sense her growing awareness and she gave a slight nod.

Chloris could not look away from the young woman, for her vivid blue eyes held Chloris’s attention. Gathering herself, Chloris spoke to the serving girl. “Thank you, Mary, that will be all.”

She could hear the tremble in her own voice. While she waited for the curious girl to leave them alone, she struggled to maintain her composure.

The young woman with the basket observed the servant leave. Then she set her basket down on the floor and walked over to Chloris. Taking Chloris’s hands in hers, she peered at her closely and then broke into a broad smile. “You are just as pretty as my brother told me you were.”

Lennox had told her. Lennox had sent her. Chloris found herself awash with confusion, with hope and with disbelief. But there was su