The room fell immediately silent.
Freya placed her hands on her hips with her legs braced wide apart. “What's going on out here?” She didn't wait for an answer before striding forward, clearing the doorway enough for Ewan to catch sight of a soldier wearing only his long linen leine, a dagger jutting from the wall only a fraction of an inch from his nose.
One of his soldiers.
Clemmons.
Ewan fisted his hand with frustration. Of course it had to be Clemmons, the soldier who challenged Ewan's orders at every turn and tried to compromise Ewan’s position as an officer. The man was still bitter at Ewan's commission being accepted over his own, especially given Ewan’s past.
Ewan strode through the doorway and found a woman standing opposite Clemmons. Her brown hair was a tousled mess and a bright red mark showed on her chin. She clutched her hands under her chest where a bit of torn lace drooped from between her fingers like a wilting flower.
“I dinna do what he wants,” the woman said plaintively. “I told him that before we went up.”
Clemmons’ face went red. “Ye're a whore, and ye'll do what I pay ye to do.” He reached for the dagger, but Freya shot forward like a snake and latched her hand on the worn hilt.
“My women are to be treated with respect.” She jerked the blade from the wall and held it to his gullet.
Ewan tensed. Clemmons was a seasoned soldier. He'd killed people for less than pointing a weapon in his direction.
Clemmons gave a derisive snort. “They're no' ladies. They're whores.”
“They're whores ye willna see again.” Freya backed up and Ewan breathed a sigh of relief.
“Wait in the main room while yer clothing is retrieved.” Freya nodded toward the open doorway but kept her stare fixed on Clemmons. “Ye are no longer welcome at Molly's.” She spun on her heel and regarded Ewan with a sharp look. “In fact, I find I'm growing weary of many of the Black Watch soldiers this evening.”
A protest went up around the room, not just from the men, but also from the women strewn over their laps and draped over them.
A smirk touched Freya's mouth, silently touting a victory won. “Very well,” she purred to her crowd. “Ye may stay.” She pushed Clemmons in the direction of the main room. “Captain Fraser, see yer wayward soldier to another establishment. He isna welcome here.”
Clemmons halted his forward progress with a snarl. “I canna wait in my leine.” Ewan put a hand to Clemmons’ shoulder. “Come now, let's get ye—”
Clemmons jerked from his grasp. “I'll no' wait out there in my leine.”
Freya grabbed hold of the front of Clemmons' leine and held up her blade. “Complain once more and I'll deprive ye of the leine ye so vehemently protest. Then ye can stand there with yer prick cupped in yer hand until one of my girls feels kind enough to bring ye yer clothing.” She narrowed her eyes. “And we dinna take kindly to our own being mistreated. Ye might have a verra long wait.”
She released him like rubbish and her gaze clashed with Ewan's. “Good evening, Captain Fraser.”
Then she tucked the blade in the band at her waist, wiped her hands together, and walked away, putting her back to them with the confidence of a woman who could clearly handle her own.
Clemmons tried to twist after her. “I'd like to take her knife and—”
Ewan grabbed the man's shoulders and pulled him back. “Ye'll do no such thing. I say ye keep from this place lest ye go missing yer bollocks.”
“I'd like to see her try.” Clemmons spit on the ground and uttered a few more choice words Ewan chose to ignore.
The main room was cooler than the bar area, the lights dimmed and shadows settled heavy in corners where the sun had long since set. Ewan had his response from Freya, though he'd hoped for a different outcome.
In his time with the Black Watch, Ewan had learned not only to uncover secrets, he’d also found everyone had them.
Everyone.
Most especially a madam who traveled to the country regularly. Freya had her indiscretions, and uncovering them would expose a weakness he could exploit.
He grimaced inwardly at the distaste of doing the very thing he'd been taught to prevent. But then his thoughts flashed to his mother, left alone in their country manor. She'd never been the same after his father's death. Neither of them had.
Ewan imagined her as he'd left her, sitting on the porch with her frail hands folded tightly over one another, as if she could hold in her fear of losing him. Except he'd felt it - from the moisture visible in her wide gaze to the tremble in her voice and the ferocity of her fragile hug.
He needed to ensure she was all right, and Freya would help him. No matter what it took.
CHAPTER TWO
It was almost dawn when Freya made her way up to her private room within Molly's. It was set far enough back in the establishment to afford her peace, away from the bustle of conversation and the primal sounds of pleasure. God knew she’d heard enough of that through the last two years.
A figure leaned against the door, fading into the shadows.
“Shouldna ye be downstairs?” Freya asked.
A rustle of cloth sounded and the figure straightened so the soft predawn light fell over the brunette's pretty face. Truly in this light, Alli looked younger than her twenty years. Young though she may be, she'd quickly made her way into Freya's trust before Molly's was even in existence.
Alli widened her silvery blue eyes with excitement. “What happened in yer private meeting with Captain Nay?”
Alli fanned her lashes, thick and black as her silky hair. Those lashes had won over many a disgruntled customer, ruffled feathers easily smoothed by the time a new girl could be brought round to see to his needs.
“Captain Nay?” Freya pulled the key from her pocket and cast Alli a questioning look.
“Aye.” Alli squared her shoulders and stood at stiff attention, her face set in an exaggeratedly severe expression. She turned her palm out, as if rejecting an offer of drink. “Nay, thank ye, lass – I'm fine with my tea tonight. Nay, thank ye, lass – I’m fine with my own company and a lonely bed tonight.” The pantomime ended with a casual shrug. “Captain Nay. All the girls call him that. Ye dinna know?”
Freya shook her head with a laugh and unlocked the door. “I apparently hadn't paid it much mind.”
Alli followed her into the large room. “Then surely ye paid a mind to how mighty handsome a man he is.”
“We of all people should know how deceiving beauty can be. Especially exceptional beauty.” Freya set the dagger on the small table beside the door.
“So ye did notice.” Alli put a hand over her mouth to cover a laugh, a habit borne of a crooked eyetooth that left her self-conscious.