Page 2 of The Madam’s Highlander

“That's very observant of ye.” The captain did not take the second mug of ale.

Freya leaned a little closer to him and pushed her chest forward so her breasts squeezed against her corset. “Is there anything I can get for ye?” She let the words tease out in a purr, ripe with lush promise.

He flicked his gaze away, the way men did when they wanted to look but did not want to grant themselves the weakness to do so. The captain was a determined spirit.

Commendable.

He met her eyes and kept them fixed there. “I'd like to speak with ye.”

She gave him a coquettish smile. “We are speaking.”

He glanced at the room from the corner of his eye. “Somewhere private.”

Ah, so he was interested in companionship for the evening. Freya offered him a pleasant smile. “One of my girls would be happy to see to ye.”

He shook his head. His cheeks reddened slightly, as if her offer embarrassed him.

Such fortitude and lofty principles!

He was the kind of morally straight man her girls would love to bend crooked.

The captain shifted in his seat. “I want only to speak with ye about an important matter.”

Normally Freya would not entertain the idea of a private meeting with a customer – especially not on so busy a night. But the captain put a considerable amount of coin in her pocket for his men, and he'd made it clear his intent was not pleasure but conversation.

Then there was the knife she kept in her desk drawer. “Very well,” she conceded.

She rose from the table and, without checking first to ensure he followed, made her way to her office. Though he had not looked on her with appreciation when she sat in front of him, she knew he would be more inclined to do so with her back turned.

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.