The Harlot (Taskill Witches 1)
“Let me go.” There was a distinct warning note in her low tone as she issued the instruction, and her eyes glittered strangely in the moonlight.
“No. You agreed to the terms in exchange for your freedom, so will hear me out and come along quietly.” He jerked his head in the direction of the tollbooth. “I, for one, do not want to join you in the cells for my part in your escape. You’d do well to follow my lead and hasten away from this place.”
It occurred to him that she was too much trouble to bother with and he’d be wise to cut his losses and let her go. However, something about holding the wench while she glared and struggled made him harden. Perhaps it was because of the exceedingly good job she had done pleasuring him moments before.
She delivered another blow to his lower ribs.
Gregor grimaced. Perhaps their earlier tryst was also the reason that he dredged enough patience to hold her and protect her from discovery, instead of letting her run free as she so obviously wanted to. Whatever the cause, he was enjoying lewd thoughts about her writhing that way beneath him on a bed. That was far too much of a distraction while they were in danger of being discovered. The truth was he did not want to let her go. “You have your freedom,” he reminded her, “and that is because I risked my own neck to salvage you. Now pay your debt.”
The comment forced her to cease her physical attack, but she pouted and glared at him still. “I did not need your help. I was about to leave the tollbooth of my own accord.”
This time he laughed aloud.
The wench’s eyes narrowed. “Believe it, sire. Did you not hear what they said about me at the inn?”
“Aye, witchcraft. Clever trickery, more like.”
She peered at him, and never before had Gregor felt scrutiny like it. Nevertheless, his comment seemed to settle her somewhat, so he continued.
“Come now, you do not expect me to believe that. You are a canny woman and that is what drew me to you, but do not attempt to use any of your fancy illusions on me. I have traveled the world, seeing places you have not even heard of. There are clever folk everywhere who claim a special gift known only to them—although I would be interested to know how you did it. You can tell me over a mug of ale when we reach my lodgings.”
She considered him carefully, as if seeing him in a new light, and she seemed pleased by his response, as if accepting the fact he was not one to be fooled. “In that case I am grateful for your assistance, but you have already received a good reward for your efforts.”
Gregor’s frustration was building. He was beginning to wonder if he had made an error. The wench should be in his debt. “And you will have a good reward, a full purse for a few days of your time, a better wage than you could make any other way, by far.”
She looked him up and down as if considering the offer.
“Come now, you owe me at least a few minutes to listen to my proposal.”
She shook her head, then glanced uneasily toward the activity in the lane beyond. “I do not tie myself to one man. Danger lies there.”
Her remark made him curious, for it was something he’d never heard a woman offer as an opinion, but he had to think of the task in hand. “You will not be tied to one man. That is not the kind of task I have in mind.”
Their encounter had been so much more pleasant when it involved carnal gratification rather than conversation. That was not his purpose in pursuing her, however, difficult though it was to keep that in mind. Moments after she had brought him off he was ready to mount her again, and the image of doing just that kept pushing to the forefront of his thoughts. He huffed a laugh.
“I am listening,” she said. “Tell me what it is I would have to do.”
Gregor kept an eye on the street beyond, as did she. “I need someone to get close to an old enemy, to bed him and to listen to him in order to discover information for me. Someone who is not known to that enemy.”
She cocked her head, as if considering his words. Her pretty mouth lifted. She wasn’t averse to the proposition, indicating she truly was a woman who relished her sensual nature. That assured him that she was a good choice.
“The task would need preparation. I will have to educate you in his ways, his desires and his whereabouts. I would purchase you some clothes and ready you, and then perhaps require a few days for the task itself. You would be on your way with a full purse soon enough.”
“How long?”
“As long as it takes.” Gregor’s mouth twitched. He was eager for them to be safely across the Tay. “You wish to feel the weight of my purse?”
She folded her arms across her chest. “I can see how heavy it is.”
She had also weighed it when it was tied at his belt; he was aware of that. He would have to keep an eye on her or she would pick over his goods and be gone. “The offer is not tempting?”
She glanced away to the north and he saw a fleeting look in her eye that made him wonder what her plans had been before she was thrown in the cell.
“It is tempting.” After a moment, she nodded. “Give me a few coins on account, for the pleasure I afforded you this night. Then I will know that your word is good.” Mischief glittered in her eyes.
Gregor shook his head, but opened his purse, hefting it in his palm to impress upon her its worth. Then, delving into the deepest part of the pouch, he pulled out two shillings. Her eyes rounded.