Page 16 of Sweetling
Dunne’s shrewd gaze assessed him over the rim of his cup.
Allarion expected a back-and-forth. From what he understood of humans, it was customary to talk with the head of the family, a person’s elder, when a suitor wished to secure a bride. He would have preferred to talk to Molly herself, but Allarion could respect he was in a human land desiring a human, and so would do it their way.
Dunne replaced his cup on the table, catching the nail of his thumb on the handle.
“What makes you so keen?” he asked. “The heiress is taken, to be sure, but there’s lots of women between her and my Molly.”
“That is for me to tell Molly, but be assured, I have great admiration for her. She is the one I wish for.”
“Admiration. Uh-huh.” Dunne patted his chest and chuckled to himself, making Allarion seethe at his crude insinuation. Blithely unaware of Allarion’s dangerously souring mood, the bartender sat back in his seat, a grin suddenly contorting his beard. “You aren’t the first one to come askin’ for her.”
“I offer her a home, land, comfort. She will be taken care of. I will pledge myself to her and be true.”
His words seemed to amuse the man. “An offer from a fae. No one will believe it. But—” here he held up his hands, as if in defeat “—I have to tell you what I told the others. She’s indentured to this place. Paying off a debt, you see. Enough for another, oh…five years at least, I’d say.”
Allarion’s nostrils flared. He couldn’t smell a lie—at least not over the myriad of other scents in the tavern. Dunne said it with all sincerity and confidence, and…it didn’t sound so outlandish. An indenture, working to pay off debt, would explain why someone like Molly, vivacious and alive, would tie herself to a rundown tavern like this.
She certainly breathed life into the place, filled it with warmth and cheer, but even her bright smiles couldn’t hide the worn legs of the chairs and chipped rims of the cups. There were far better taverns and alehouses in the city, ones where Molly could earn far more coin.
“You would indenture your own kin?”
Dunne shrugged his meaty shoulders. “Had to make her learn. She was a wild girl, you see. Had to teach her to pay her debts.”
“How much?”
Dunne’s lips twitched. “Now, see, that’s difficult. It’s not just the indenture. She helps me run the place and looks after the little ones. I’ve got five, you see, and I’m too old to be running after them. And I’m not blind, I know she’s what fills this place up. It’d be too much to find a new girl who filled out a bodice the same and—”
“How much?”
Dunne couldn’t hide the small grin this time, no doubt having been waiting for Allarion to interrupt him with that very question.
Allarion let the man think he was winning their…negotiation. The truth was Allarion, like all fae, had time—but five years was now a long time to wait. Neither Ravenna nor he himself could delay that long.
He wasn’t desperate—not yet. He didn’t want to let himself get to that point.
So he was willing to expedite this. Indenture or no, familial bonds or no, one thing mattered to Dunne, and Allarion was willing to offer it.
He’d pay any price for Molly.
Dunne named something expectedly lavish.
“Very well,” Allarion agreed. “I will double it, too. To compensate you and your children for her loss.”
The uncle sat back in his seat, blinking with disbelief. Allarion had truly shocked him finally.
“You want her that bad?Her?” he asked.
Allarion bit back his annoyance. “Yes.” From his cloak pocket he pulled a velvet sack of coins. “Half now, half tomorrow, when we are married.”
It was fast, but he needed to return to Scarborough—and he didn’t intend to leave Dundúran without his bride.
Dunne’s eyes went large with the sight of the sack and the clinking sounds it made. He didn’t grab for it, which mildly surprised Allarion, but his throat bobbed on a swallow and his pupils dilated.
“Are we agreed?”
The man startled from his stupor. “It’ll take time to arrange a marriage. Tomorrow’s not—”
“Tomorrow,” said Allarion, laying his hand beside the coin purse. “That is my price.”
