Page 10 of Healing the Highland Sinner
His smile faltered for a brief moment, but he quickly pulled it back onto his lips, keeping his cloak of arrogance wrapped snugly around him.
“Aye. Feelin’ right as rain,” he said.
Ciar harumphed and turned away, though not before Rosalind had seen the small smirk steal across his lips.
“So,” Ellair said. “What are we daein’ taeday?”
“Ye’re daein’ what ye’re told tae dae and keepin’ yer mouth shut otherwise,” she said sharply.
He gave her a sweeping, comical bow. “As me lady wishes.”
“They come,” Ciar said, his voice a deep rumble.
A small galley steered toward the dock where they stood, and a man jumped off and quickly tied the vessel off. Four other men tucked their oars away and clambered onto the dock alongside him. Several large crates were stacked in the back of the small boat, though none of them made a move to offload them.
“Good mornin’,” Rosalind said.
“Is it?” the man sneered.
The man who’d stepped off the boat stepped to Rosalind and scowled at her. Well short of the height and width of both Ciar and Ellair, he was lean and wiry. Threads of gray wound through his dark hair as well as the stubble on his face. One eye was milky and permanently squinted, and a scar ran from the corner of it, disappearing into the hairline behind his ear.
“These troubled times are makin’ it hard fer me and mine tae slip about, Mistress Widow,” he said, his voice high and screechy.
“And ye are well compensated fer yer troubles already,” Rosalind replied.
“Aye. We were,” he replied. “But given the troubles in the lands and how much of a risk we’re takin’ smugglin’ in yer goods, I think it’s time we renegotiate our rates.”
“Bleedin’ bastard,” Ciar growled and took a step forward.
Rosalind held a hand up, silently telling him to stay back. Ciar did as ordered but lowered his hands, resting them near the hilt of the twin swords on his hips. She glanced at Ellair who remained where he was, standing casually, but his eyes were alert and aware. He was watching closely and Rosalind could see by his stance and the way his shoulders were tensed, he was like a snake, coiled and ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
Rosalind turned back to the smuggler. “We had an agreement.”
“Aye. We did,” he replied smarmily. “But situations change. Me and me men are takin’ on more risk and facin’ more danger with all the troubles in the lands. Which means, that as the situation changes, so too, must our rates.”
“Ye assured me?—”
“I assured ye of naethin’,” he sneered. “Ye’ve been playin’ this game long enough tae ken how it’s played. If ye want yer goods, ye’ll have tae pay me new price.”
“Ye gave me yer word?—”
“That was before I lost a couple of good men,” he cut her off. “That changed things.”
“Aye. It means yer share is bigger without a couple of extra hands out,” Ellair said.
Rosalind and the smuggler turned to face Ellair, then turned back to each other. The smuggler’s face twisted and darkened, his scowl deepening.
“And who in the hell is he?” he grunted.
“Naebody of any import,” Rosalind said. “And somebody who should learn tae keep his bleedin’ mouth shut in affairs that are nae his own.”
Ellair shrugged. “Apologies, me lady. I just dinnae like seein’ people bein’ taken advantage of. And ‘tis hard fer me tae keep me mouth shut when I see it.”
“So says the man who fights fer who pays the most coin,” Rosalind sneered.
“We all have tae make a livin’,” he said with a shrug. “I’m well compensated fer me services, but I never take advantage of people. Nor dae I go back on me word. If I give me word, I honor it. I dinnae slink back in like a snake and demand more money I’m nae entitled tae.”
“Who in the bleedin’ hell dae ye think ye are?” the smuggler sneered.
