Page 42 of Healing the Highland Sinner
The woman lit up and smiled. “Thank ye, me laird.”
“I’m nay laird.”
“Well, thank ye anyway.”
Ellair nodded as she turned and scurried away again to tend to the rest of the crowd. He picked up his cup and raised it to Carson. The man studied him uncertainly for a moment before picking up his cup and raising it to Ellair in return.
“And what are we drinkin’ too?” he asked.
“New friends.”
“Is that what we are?” Carson asked. “New friends?”
“I’m certainly hopin’ so.”
The man took a long swallow of the ale, then belched. Ellair winced. He could be rough sometimes and didn’t have delicate sensibilities, but he was never so uncouth.
“So. New friend,” Carson said. “What is this all about?”
“I’m hopin’ ye can give me some information.”
He chuckled. “I dinnae think I ken anythin’ worth kennin’.”
“I dinnae think ‘tis exactly true.”
The man eyed him for a long moment. “All right. I’ll bite,” he said. “What is runnin’ around in me head that has ye so interested?”
Ellair took a long swallow of his mead and set the cup back down. “I heard ye once upon a time worked fer the Widow.”
A shadow crossed over his face, and he seemed to draw in on himself. The man leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest, his expression hard, like dark stone.
“I dinnae ken what ye’re talkin’ about,” he said, his tone as hard as his face. “I got nay idea who ye’re talkin’ about.”
Chuckling to himself, Ellair pulled a coin out of his purse and set it on the table. The man’s eyes widened slightly, but he remained silent. Ellair added a second and then a third coin to the stack and sat back, holding Carson’s gaze.
“What about now?” he asked. “Got any idea who I’m talkin’ about now?”
Carson reached across the table to grab the coins, but Ellair was quicker, snatching the coins up and sitting back in his chair with a grin on his face.
“Information first,” he said.
The man frowned and sat back. He stared at Ellair, the wheels in his head turning wildly. The man seemed to be weighing the sure money against the possibility of running afoul of somebody who might take exception to him talking to Ellair. It took a long moment of internal struggle, but the prospect of having cold, hard coin in his hand won out.
“Fine,” he said. “Ask yer bleedin’ questions.”
“Ye worked for the Widow.”
“Ye said that.”
“But ye’ve nae confirmed it.”
The man sighed. “Aye. I worked for her and her husband before that. But ‘twas a long time ago and I’ve nae got a bad word tae say about her. She was good tae me.”
“Then why dinnae ye work for her anymore?”
He frowned and an expression akin to shame crossed his face. “I’m nae as good with a blade as I should be. Almost got meself killed. Almost got her killed. The Widow said she could have her man train me, but I… I was ashamed. I left.”
The fact that she inspired such loyalty to people, even years after they worked for her, spoke well of her character, of how she treated people. It wasn’t anything Ellair didn’t already know about her, but it was good to see it wasn’t just his bias making him think that of her.
