Page 14 of Obeying the Orc
I found myself at a loss for words. How could she seriously believe she was meant to work in a brothel? I noticed she wasn’t wearing an oceanstone necklace and therefore wasn’t working upstairs, but it was true that just by working at The Sweet Siren, it didn’t do her reputation any favors. The last time I’d spoken to her, she had mentioned Mrs. Foxthorne was pressuring her to marry soon.
Something had happened with the Foxthornes and I wanted to uncover the truth. Sweet young widows didn’t suddenly wake up one day and decide to work in a brothel, even if they were just serving drinks.
“I don’t owe you any explanation about why I’m here, Knot.”
“Natalee, I’m worried about you. Listen, if you need any help, I’ll be in town for a few more days. I’m staying at The Bluebird Inn.”
“Thank you, Knot, but I’ll be fine. Madame Sage and all the sirens have been very kind to me.”
“Oh sure, don’t even mention poor old Lottie,” came a voice from the stove.
“And Lottie has been especially kind to me,” Natalee said, raising her voice so the eavesdropping cook could clearly hear every word.
I forced a smile as I gazed at her, though an aching sadness filled me. I sensed something very bad had happened to Natalee, but I couldn’t force her to confide in me or accept my help.
We said goodbye to one another, and I returned to my place at the bar. A man sat next to me and immediately started going on about thenew human girlwith the blue eyes. My hands curled into fists, and Floura gave me an odd look when she refilled my wine.
“Her name’s Julianne,” the man said. “But she isn’t going upstairs yet. She told me perhaps next week, to come see her then. Pretty little thing.Ooooweee. Shy, too. I like me the shy ones.” Spittle flew from his mouth when he gave a bawdy laugh. “They sure blush hard when you first pull out your cock.” He laughed harder.
Julianne. Gods, that must be Natalee’s siren name. Fucking starfires.
Rage filled me, and my stool fell to the floor when I stood up too quickly. I grabbed the man by his collar and gave him a harsh shake. “You’ll stay away from her, that’s what you’ll do!” I bellowed.
“Is there a problem here?” asked a tall minotaur who appeared out of nowhere. The guard’s horns were so huge they nearly reached the ceiling.
“No problem at all, Trevonn. My orc friend here was just leaving. Weren’t you?”
I took a deep breath and released the male. I didn’t want to do anything foolish to get myself thrown out of The Sweet Siren, because I needed to be able to return whenever I wished. And I wished to return.
Next week. When Natalee was taking customers.
Gods, I couldn’t believe she was actually going to start taking customers. I raged inside that she hadn’t offered up that bit of information during our brief conversation, but I suspected if I returned to the kitchen and tried to talk some sense into her, a fiery argument would ensue, and the large minotaur would attempt to physically remove me from the tavern.
As I moved toward the exit, a white-hot burst of anger filled me at the thought of another male lying with Natalee. She was a genteel female who’d simply fallen on hard times. I felt a connection to her when I gazed into her pretty blue eyes. I ached to draw my fingers through her silken curls, and by the gods, I ached to make hermine.
My need for her and my recent discovery that I was indeed ready to take a new wife consumed me. Why had I stubbornly returned to my cabin the day after our picnic? Why hadn’t I remained in town so I could call upon her again? If I’d stuck around, maybe she would have trusted me enough to confide in me with her troubles. Whatever those troubles were that had resulted in her working in a brothel of all places.
I returned to The Bluebird Inn, a plan forming in my mind.
Natalee would belong to me.
CHAPTER8
NATALEE
“All ready for your big début?”Floura asked as she adjusted the sheer petticoats underneath my dress.
“Of course I’m ready. I’m not a virgin, you know.” I tried to sound brave, though in truth, I had a serious case of the jitters. But I couldn’t earn enough money to return to the Northern Isles simply by serving drinks and food. I needed to work upstairs. Then I could return to the Northern Isles with extra money in my pocket and a made-up tale about how Logan sadly died after we struck it semi-rich on our claim.
It was better this way. This way, I wouldn’t humiliate myself by groveling to my parents for the funds to travel home. As it was, despite their wealth, I didn’t know if they would spare me a single coin. But if I reached the Northern Isle of Jathaway on my own, I could possibly live with one of my older sisters. I could even possibly find love again. No one in my home city would learn of my stint at The Sweet Siren or the true origins of my money. I could return to Jathaway a wealthy widow in good standing, still young enough to marry again and start a family.
Madame Sage placed a hand on my shoulder. “Are you sure, sweetie? You are still welcome to your room downstairs. You can keep serving drinks and…”
“I’m completely sure,” I cut her off. “Besides, I’ve sort of been teasing the males all week, promising I’d be wearing an oceanstone necklace this evening. In fact, I’ve, um, come up with a naughty idea.” I leaned across the small table in the corner of the kitchen and looked from Floura to Madame Sage. “How about holding an auction tonight?” Perhaps it was a bold idea, but I wanted to prove I’d made the right decision to become a siren. I wanted to prove I knew what I was doing. And if I pretended I was eager, maybe I would eventually start to feel more at ease with my new job.
Floura’s eyes went wide and she bounced in her seat. “Oh, that is naughty. And fun!”
“I can’t dance well, but I’ll try my best on stage, perhaps with a little help.” I twirled one of my curls around a finger, my excitement growing. In the week and a half that I’d been at The Sweet Siren, I’d discovered this place felt more like a home than when I’d lived with the Foxthornes, or even my parents for that matter. Being surrounded by so many folks who seemed to care about me helped ease my jitters some. And Floura was right, an auction sounded like great fun, and I imagined it would set a playful and cheery ambiance for the remainder of the night.
