Page 8 of The Madam’s Highlander

Freya did not back down. In fact, she stepped forward, once again on the scent of blood. The woman saw far too much.

“What did ye find?” she bit out.

It was a pity women could not lead an army. The madam of Molly’s would make an exceptional officer.

“Jacobite soldiers come into this place and dinna leave.” It was a rumor Ewan had heard, but one he'd rather use to convince her than his other discovery, the one he knew to be true.

The one that would scare her enough to say yes.

“Many men come into this establishment. Is there someone who tracks their entry and exit? Do ye think I'm collecting them for some nefarious purpose?”

He kept his shoulders squared. “I think ye aid the Jacobites.”

“I aid anyone who needs assistance.” She tilted her head, considering him. “What else?”

He wanted to stare at his feet, as he'd tried to do when he was a lad in trouble, as he'd done to avoid the image of his father's stiff form dangling from a rope. But he was not a lad. He was a man who had to own his transgressions, and he met her gaze when he said exactly what he knew would hurt her. “I know ye have a sister and ailing mother in the country, and that’s why ye go to Callander so often.”

Freya’s lips thinned. “What of them?”

Part of Ewan withered inside with what he needed to say. He clenched his fist against the rise of nausea. “It would be a shame if they somehow found themselves in trouble.”

Freya's demeanor remained rigid, but her face had gone pale. “Are ye threatening my family?” She pulled the blade from the unseen pocket of her gown.

“I’m ensuring the safety of my own family.” He lifted his jaw. “And if I dinna come back, there will be inquiries. A member of the Black Watch canna just disappear.” It was a lie. He’d told no one of her family. She didn’t know that, of course, which was a good thing, or she might well kill him. The rage flashing like murder in her eyes told him as much.

Her lip curled. “I do not like being extorted, Captain.” She practically spat the last word.

“I only want confirmation my mother is safe.”

She remained quiet for long enough that he figured she was most likely planning his demise.

“I’ll do this on one condition,” she said at last.

He didn’t say anything and let the silence between them press her to continue.

“After I meet with ye to tell ye of how she is, I willna ever see ye again.” She looked down at her blade. “Because if ye can threaten my family, I can just as easily threaten yers. Am I clear?”

He nodded. “Bring me a note from my mother. So I know ye went.”

She smirked. “Ye dinna believe me?”

“I know these are no’ the best circumstances for this arrangement,” he said.

She scoffed.

“Thank ye.” He inclined his head. “From the bottom of my heart – thank ye.”

She glared at him. “Get out.”

He complied without complaint. After all, he would have confirmation of his mother’s safety soon.

Why then did he have such an ominous darkness clouding his awareness?

CHAPTER THREE

Damn Captain Ewan Fraser.

Were it not for him, Freya wouldn't be crammed into the boxy carriage, bouncing her way through the countryside, two days from the refinement of Edinburgh. She ought to visit her own family while she was out this way.