She arched her back slightly to narrow her waist and lift her bottom. If he was going to look, she'd give him the best view possible.
She slid the key from her pocket and unlocked the door to the small room where she went over her accounts. The captain stepped forward and pushed the door open for her, motioning to the room within. Like a gentleman, treating her like a lady.
It had been a long while since she'd been treated thus.
So, what did a man like the captain need from the madam of a bawdyhouse?
***
Captain Ewan Fraser did not miss the flicker of suspicion on Freya's face before she walked into her office. A fire was lit in the hearth, an unnecessary expense for a woman who didn't intend to be in there through the course of the evening.
Molly's, like the ladies within, had been painted to entice, with wide stretched mirrors lining the costly patterned walls, colorful Turkish carpet underfoot, and vivid red cushions to encourage one to lean back and enjoy. In this small room, it was as if the plaster had been peeled away to expose the plainness beneath.
While tidy, the room was stark, devoid of any décor to give insight to its owner. The massive wooden desk possessed no adornment, several chairs lay before it with one behind, and three small bookcases were backed against a simply painted green wall. Ledgers were lined in such neat rows, they most surely were organized with an order in mind.
Even the sweet perfume in the air had given way to a musty, dry scent like old paste.
Freya settled into the seat behind the desk and regarded Ewan with sky-colored eyes made even more vivid by the brilliant blue silk she wore. The dress hugged every curve in a way that made a man want to trace her shape with his hands.
And she knew it.
Even Ewan, with all his careful control and discipline, had not been able to keep his gaze from slipping down the enticement of her body when her back was turned.
She tilted her head up at him, the angle slightly arrogant, with more confidence than any one person should ever possess. Her delicate hand lifted and gestured to the chair in front of her desk. “Have a seat, Captain.”
He sat in the hard-backed chair, not missing how her own plush seat offered her far greater comfort than she afforded her guests. This room was not Molly's – a place meant to appease clients and encourage a long stay. This was Freya's domain, blunt and controlled.
He'd do well to remember that.
Perhaps he ought to have arrived armed with information. With secrets. Being a man of the Black Watch, a man trained to uncover plots of extortion, he could have uncovered information to use against Freya.
Secrets, however, once uncovered, could not easily be buried.
He hoped to appeal to Freya's decency to get what he needed. Meeting the coolness of her stare, he was having his doubts before even posing the question.
Freya settled back in her seat, which made her ample bosom push forward. How he wanted to let his gaze slide over the offering she laid out for him – to skim the creamy valleys and swells of her firm skin until his hands ached to touch.
But he did not look. He kept his eyes locked on hers. He was stronger than the weakness of the body. Disciplined, determined. He was a soldier with a purpose.
“What can I do for ye, Captain...?” She raised her brows for him to fill in his name, though he was certain she already knew it.
“Fraser. Captain Ewan Fraser,” he provided. “I have a favor to ask ye.”
She gave a bemused smile. “So ask.”
“My mother relocated some time ago into the country in the Lowlands. I'd like ye to check on her well-being for me.”
Freya smirked. “I'm no steward.” She sat forward and placed her hand on the polished surface of the desk. Her fingernails were clean and carefully rounded, like those of a lady.
“Captain Fraser, I appreciate yer patronage at Molly's. If it's an experience ye're after, ye willna find one better than what my girls can provide ye. Aside from a memorable night and a stiff drink, I'm afraid I canna offer much more than that.”
Ewan nodded carefully. “I understand what I ask is an extraordinary request.”
“Extraordinary.” She said it as if deciding if she liked the taste of it in her mouth. “And impossible.”
Aye, he should have come armed with information. “There's a reason I've asked ye specifically,” he said.
“Oh?” she curled her glossy red lips around the word.
“I hear ye go to the country often, near Callander, aye? That isna too far from where my ma is.” The muscles at her throat tensed and he rushed on before she could stop him. “I dinna know many who even venture outside of Edinburgh.” He clenched his jaw in the same stubborn set hers had settled into. “As a favor for a client who brings his men here on every visit to Edinburgh.”
The glint in her blue eyes went hard as sapphires. “How do ye know I go there?”
“One of yer girls had mentioned it to my men once.”
Spots of color showed on her cheeks beneath her freckles. A crash sounded on the other side of the door, in the other, more gilded world of sex and seduction.
Freya's eyes darted behind him to the closed door before returning her attention back to him. “Nay.”
Ewan sat forward in his seat. “Ye dinna understand, my ma is in the country. I canna be excused from my duties to see to her, and I—”
“Ye worry she might be hurt by the very men ye've sided with?” Her gaze sharpened perceptively, like the viper she'd been heralded by many a rejected man.
In that one stare, she cut into his soul and had sucked the truth from the marrow of his very core. She'd coiled around the security he'd wrapped himself in - the good name, the medals of valor, the years of loyal service - and she'd found the stink of his doubt as sure as a predator draws on the scent of blood.
Because she was right.
He questioned it all.
The Black Watch was not as it was when he joined, when his task was to mind the wilds of the Highlands, to break up disputes and prevent exploitation. Now his job was to aid the English in a battle against his own people.
And it was their blood bathing his homeland - men, women...children. His stomach rolled with what he'd stumbled upon too many times – a home razed to the ground, still smoldering with defeat, the family slaughtered where they'd been found running or hiding.
What they did to the women...
“Nay.” Freya rose abruptly from her seat. “I willna help ye.”
A woman's scream sounded in the distance followed by a man's bellow.
Ewan stood with his hands extended in offering. “Please, my mother—”
“Nay.” She pulled a dagger from an unseen drawer. “I told ye before, I'm no steward.”
She strode past him, yanked open the door, and launched the blade. Ewan could not see where it landed, but he heard it thunk into a solid target.