AllFreeNovel
Share Us
If she was unbroken, I was Jesus Christ. I averted my gaze, shaking my head. After another sip of ale, I said, “Not that kind of man, lass.”
“Perhaps I can turn you into a believer.”
“I believe just fine. I believe you should leave me alone.”
She scoffed. I heard her saying something about a dandy as she left to go to the next table.
A few minutes later, another worker came over, this one curvy and thick, falling out of her tight corset. “I think I know what you need, stallion. You need experience.” She stood with her hands on her hips, proud.
“What is it with you people and horses?”
Her lip curled on one side, eyes glinting. “You look like the kind of man who’s equipped like one.”
“What gave you that idea?”
“Stern face. Brutally handsome. Tall, broad, confident. And you’re wearing the garb of a man on the run.”
At that, my muscles tensed. I always had to be careful where I showed my face, because she wasn’t far off, even if she was taking a shot in the dark.
“I’m not on the run,” I said.
“Fine.” She shrugged. “Prove me wrong, then.”
“Excuse me?” I lifted my brow while trying to look past her.
“Show me your cock. Let me see how small it is, and I’ll never bother you again.”
With a heavy sigh, I shook my head. “Regardless of what you’re looking for, ma’am, I’m not interested, I’m afraid.”
Like the young waif before her, my words riled her. Readjusting her dress, she sat at my booth and scowled. “What is it, then? You take after boys, do you? Little ones, I’d wager—”
My hand shot out and clamped down on her wrist. My voice went low as she struggled to get out of my iron grip. “Careful, whore. I didn’t tell you to sit. I was trying to be nice. Perhaps this is clearer: Get the fuck out of my face, or you’ll regret it.”
With a breathless sound, she rose in a hurry, flustered. Still, she pressed on. “Regret it? So he’s a woman beater, then.”
“Never,” I said, and released her arm with a push. “There are ways to make your life miserable without ever laying a finger on you, lass. Don’t forget it.”
She didn’t bother me after that, gazing at me like I was a madman.
I probably was. But I wasn’t here to dip my wick in the tavern’s latest honey pots. Once she was gone—hopefully telling the other streetgirls not to bother me—I returned my gaze to the prize in question, sitting across the tavern at the barkeep’s counter.
I had created a bit of a scene, unfortunately, with my temper getting the better of me. It was a shame I had been tasked with this, because I hated these kinds of places.
Sure, I could play the part. Act aloof. Yet I was growing too old to mingle in busy taverns like this one in Nottingham’s town square. I much preferred a lazy bonfire or calm night in the woods, or even a smaller tavern with minstrels and storytellers. Something to lead my mind away from darkness.
The woman I watched was an anomaly. She drew attention—so much so that I didn’t catch any other eyes looking my way. They focused on her.
She wore a formfitting blue gown, sashed by a yellow belt at her thin waist. Her red hair fell in curly tumbles down her shoulders. She hadn’t glanced this way yet—why would she, when I was positioned behind her?—so I assumed she didn’t know I watched her like a hawk.
Like me, she spurned the advances of everyone who approached her. And the flock was bountiful.
It was rare for a woman of her beauty and stature to be seen in a public house like this. These types of places were typically reserved for men. Peasants and yeomen who wanted to get away from their wives, or wanted to peruse the wares, or just get blind drunk until they couldn’t walk. Anything to forget their shit lot in life for a while.
With the way the kingdom was headed, taverns and brothels were packed these days. More than in the past. The number of inhabitants in an alehouse directly correlated with the economic situation of a society. I knew that from firsthand experience.
The busier the tavern, the worse the situation outside its walls. When a tavern was dead, it meant the economy was booming. It was quite a backwards conundrum, since the majority of men in here couldn’t afford to spend their modest earnings on drink and whores. Yet here they were.
The red-haired beauty stuck out like a beacon. Her dress was of fine fabric that looked expensive. She seemed a noblewoman more than a commoner.
