CHAPTER FOUR
“Will ye help me?” Ewan looked up at Freya.
Her hand still lingered on his shoulder, her perfumed warmth a quiet comfort of its own.
“It's one thing to help yer ma, or even an injured soldier.” She removed her hand slowly. “It's another to aid a man in desertion from the English. Yer mother is safe.”
Ewan rose on numb legs and set the glass on the desk. He stood nearly a head taller than Freya. “I've spent my entire life working for those men, fighting alongside them, considering them my brothers in arms.” The weight of the world crushed upon his shoulders. “I can never fight by their side again without wanting to turn my pistol on them. I joined to protect my mother. Look where that got me. Look where that got her.” He could not keep the bitterness from his tone.
Freya folded her arms over her chest. “What would ye do? Where would ye go?”
Ewan's thoughts scrabbled through a mountain of ideas. “To yer home where my ma is. We could find somewhere to live, rebuild where people dinna know us.”
“To my home?” Freya's pretty face pinched with obvious distrust.
“We wouldna stay.”
“And have ye coin enough to find a home right away? Do ye have kin who can take ye in?”
Ewan ground his teeth in frustration. He would not have access to his wealth without giving his name and putting himself at risk of arrest.
Freya raised strong points, ones he hadn't considered in his hasty attempt to find solutions to the burden of all his troubles. He hissed out a sigh and scrubbed a hand over his jaw.
“And how would ye get to my home?” she asked. “It's near Callander, but in more of the country in a verra small village.”
“Ye could tell me the way and I can ask when I get near enough.”
“No.” A flush spread over her chest and crept up her long, slender neck. “Ye'll get everyone killed doing that.”
She pulled herself upright and began to pace the small room. Her footsteps clicked on the hardwood floor while her gaze danced around thoughts she did not voice. Ewan watched her in silence, careful not to say a word lest he tip the scales of her consideration.
Much as he hated to admit it, he needed her.
“Ye're putting me in a terrible position.” She shot him an angry glare. “I should set ye out among yer men and let ye tell them ye plan to leave so they can shoot ye.”
“Ye should,” Ewan said slowly, “but ye willna.”
She paced, stopped, and turned to face him, her expression soft with what he hoped was resignation.
“Nay,” she said. “I willna.”
Ewan breathed out a slow, steady exhale of relief. The scent of alcohol on his breath was unfamiliar and unpleasant. No matter how hard all this might be, he wouldn't give in to the temptation of hard liquor again. He might be a traitor, but he would not release his hold on his morals.
“Ye need to go back to where ye're expected,” Freya said. “Make up an excuse that will keep ye from sight if ye can get away with it, where people willna think to need to come find ye. We'll leave tonight. At ten.”
She pulled a gold watch out of an unseen pocket. The face was scratched and caught the light, refracting it. Ewan could make out the time from where he sat. 6:20 - but that didn’t seem right. He knew it had only been 5:00 when he'd entered.
Her watch was fast by at least an hour.
She slipped the watch back into her pocket. “If ye pack any belongings, keep them light. Ye dinna want to appear obvious.”
Ewan nodded. Already an idea was coming to him. He could volunteer to work the night watch, when most of the men were either sleeping or out whoring. It was not uncommon for men to slip away during the later shifts, especially with being in Edinburgh.
“And ye better no' make me regret agreeing to help ye.” Freya folded her arms over her firm cleavage.
“I willna,” Ewan said earnestly.
“I hope ye're right.” For the first time, a crinkle of worry showed on her otherwise smooth brow. “Or we'll both be dead.”
***
The day had passed too quickly. Freya pulled out her father’s watch, quickly adjusting the time in her head. It was almost nine o’clock. One more hour.
Her stomach twisted into knots.
What the hell had she been thinking in helping Captain Fraser?
She had enough worry on her mind without having to escort the captain to her home. But then she couldn't exactly give him directions and have him asking around about where she lived. The last thing she needed was suspicion luring anyone to her home.
Her family had suffered enough.
Aye, she could have Edward take Ewan, but no – if she was going to send a traitor into her home, she wanted to be there to ensure all was safe.
Alli sauntered into Freya's office with a copy of Hamlet clutched in her hand. “Captain Nay is here.” She fanned herself with the book and made a swooning gesture.
Freya closed the door and regarded the younger woman. “Do ye have everything ye need?”
Alli's playful mood fell away and she gave a sincere nod. “Everything will be fine.”
“I should be back quickly. Within a fortnight.”
Alli nodded again. “This is a good thing ye're doing.” She said it in an encouraging tone, as if she were trying to sway Freya into believing it herself.
Freya rolled her eyes. “It's a damn stupid thing I'm doing. And he’s an hour early.” She pulled out her pocket watch to confirm the time. Ten by her watch, but only nine by true time.
Edward would have the carriage at the rear of the bawdyhouse several minutes after ten. He'd already collected her bags earlier that day, bless him. But now she would have to hide Ewan for an hour before Edward would arrive.
Freya gave an irritated sigh. “What room is he in?”
“The pink one, but—”
Before Alli could finish, Freya was out the door and stalking up the stairs to the pink room, where the ladies were afforded the opportunity to study during the day or get away for a small break in the evening.
She did not stop her forward march until she stood directly in front of the door. She wrenched it open with the force of her frustration and froze.
A naked man stood in the center of the room, his arms tangled in a leine just over his head. Naked and beautifully muscled, from his long, lean legs to the soft phallus resting amid a patch of dark hair to the bands tightening along his abdomen. For one fleeting moment, she wished his arms and shoulder were not buried within the fabric so she might see them too.
Freya sucked in a breath, but found her limbs locked into place, unable to move any more than she was unable to stop staring.
After a jerk of the fabric, a face appeared through the neckline.
Captain Fraser.
He tugged the leine down over his impressive body and shot her a hard look. “It would have been polite of ye to knock first.”
The spell broke and heat scorched her cheeks. Good God, was she blushing?
To imagine - a madam blushing at the sight of a naked man. She'd seen many in her year assisting friends with their clients, and significantly more in her last couple of years running Molly's.
But then, not every man looked like Captain Fraser. Certainly not every man lived so clean a life, stayed so morally focused, and was so damn tempting.
“Ye might have locked the door,” Freya muttered. Embarrassment was not an emotion she wore often, or well. She slammed the door closed, leaving herself standing in the hall with a grinning Alli at her side. When had Alli arrived?
“Ye might have listened.” Alli's eyes widened and she mouthed, “But I'm glad ye dinna.” She frantically fanned herself with her hand.
“I believe ye should be downstairs,” Freya said testily.
A crash sounded below.
“Now,” she added.
Alli thrust her lower lip out like a sullen child and headed downstairs as she was bade.
The door opened and Ewan stood before Freya in a clean leine and fresh kilt - no longer dark with the colors of the Black Watch, but wearing a tartan of the more earthy tones of green and dun. He gave her a smile and the dimple dotted his cheek.
He might be good, but he was handsome as sin itself.
He held out his hands, presenting himself to her. “Now I'm ready.”
She took out her pocket watch. “An hour early.”
“It runs an hour fast,” he said slowly.
Observant man.
“And I account for that. Now ye're an hour early and the carriage isna here yet.”
He paused, most likely due to her admonishment. But then he surprised her.
“Ye look bonny.” He said it with such reverence, the heat returned to her cheeks.
She glanced down at her traveling gown, the one a lady wore. Like she used to wear. Pale blue satin, edged in lace with the waist comfortably cinched and a bosom high enough to make her feel as though she were draped in a blanket. She wore no cosmetic on her face and had her hair twisted into a simple but fashionable style with fat curls draping down her shoulders.
“Aye. Well, thank ye,” she staggered out uncomfortably.
She lifted the cloak from the bed, her own from her wardrobe upstairs, and swung it over her shoulders. “I’m the eldest daughter of the Lady of Glenmore. It's a title and no' anything more. We lost our fortune after my da died.” She was rambling in her discomfort.
The last thing she wanted to do now was go on about her life, especially when she was already disquieted by his flattery and by her inability to clear her mind of his naked body. He didn't need to know how she'd tried to turn the home into a farm, and how she'd failed most miserably.
Shouting came from downstairs, followed by another crash.
Freya spun to bolt out the door, but Captain Fraser grabbed her arm. “Ye canna go down there like that.”
Freya looked down at her lady's clothing a second time and frowned. He was right.
Footsteps pounded up the stairs and a knock sounded at the door. Freya jerked the door open and found Tessa standing there, wide-eyed.
“It's the man who tried to beat Marie the other day, the one ye threatened with yer blade,” she said.
“Clemmons,” Captain Fraser said.
“He's looking for ye.” Tessa spoke to the captain and then regarded Freya. “Alli is seeing to him. She told me to tell ye to run - she'll handle what needs to be done.”
“Why?” A line of muscle showed at the corner of his square jaw. “Why is he here?”
Tessa glanced away. “He thinks ye've abandoned the Black Watch.”
Freya's pulse ticked up a notch. They knew. It wasn't even the proper meeting time and already they were caught. She snagged the man's cloak from where it lay on the bed and shoved it into Captain Fraser's hand.
“I canna let this happen. I canna let women fight for me.” Captain Fraser stepped around Freya, but this time it was she who grabbed his arm.
“Ye'll be killed,” she said.
Tessa smirked. “And we're no' yer ordinary women.”
Freya gave Tessa a proud grin. “They’ll be fine with Clemmons. Most of us have dealt with worse before.”
Another crash came from below, followed by more bellowing. Freya tried not to flinch. She trusted Alli. The girl might be genteel enough to be a lady's maid if she chose, but the lass had a rough upbringing that made her tougher than the stubble on a Highlander's jaw.
“Ye need to go,” Tessa said.
Freya pulled at Captain Fraser's arm. He remained in place, a tree rooted to the ground. And so she shoved him directly in the lower back. He flew forward with a surprised expression.
“Now,” Freya gritted through her teeth. “I dinna risk all of this for ye to go soft on me.”
Her goading worked and Captain Fraser followed her through the hall and to the narrow back stairs where the dark alley lay behind Molly's. She only hoped Edward would have the carriage ready this early. She knew the path he would take to arrive at Molly's from his simple stable several streets up. They could walk there and pretend to be a fine couple out for an evening stroll.
In a town like Edinburgh, they'd never be suspected.
Together they burst out of the alley and made their way toward the bustle of the main street, cloaks secured around their throats and hoods up.
“I thought I might find ye here,” a voice growled.
Freya spun around and found Clemmons standing in front of Molly's, the pistol in his hand aimed directly at her.