I had to bite my lip to keep from chuckling. “Much.”
“What about you?” She gave me a dig in the ribs. “Am I not giving you the best ride of your life?”
I grunted and thumped a fist against the wall, sending Clara into another fit of giggles.
Her curls bounced like tiny springs in time with her chest. Toeless feet peeked from the holes at the ends of her stockings. The madame would keep the bulk of the purse I’d handed over, and I knew Clara would refuse if I offered her more.
“How much longer?” she asked, face flushed. “My legs are getting tired.”
I shook away my darkening thoughts. They’d do no one any good. “At least another hour.”
She slapped my shoulder. “Get off it, you eejit. No one lasts that long.”
“That’s what you think.”
“That’s what Iknow. I’ve been a whore for over two hundred years.”
I laughed. “So have I.”
She took both of my hands, looking me in the eye, our jumping and the headboard picking up pace. “Will we give them a big finish?”
“Sure, why not? I’ve a reputation to uphold.”
We both collapsed onto the bed with moans and groans and whimpers and giggles.
“Best ride I’ve had in years,” she laughed, splaying her hands on the mattress, skirts bunched around her thin knees.
I didn’t want to think about whether or not these sheets were clean. It felt so damn good to be out of that box.
Clara poked my arm. “I want steak tonight. And apple crumble.”
I could barely keep my eyes open. “Let me sleep and you can have whatever you desire.”
Clara pulled a pillow over her head, and we both drifted off.
I awoke with a start to a cacophony of banging headboards, low moans, and heavy grunts. Clara snored quietly beside me, the corner of the coverlet pulled over her shoulder.Dammit. I’d forgotten to close the feckin’ window. I tried not to wake her when I rolled off the mattress, but the blasted thing dipped the moment I stood.
She jerked upright, her short hair slapping her cheeks as she searched the darkness. When her glowing eyes landed on me, she pressed a hand to her heaving chest. “Feckin’ hell, Tadhg. You scared the shite out of me.”
“Sorry.” I closed the window and locked the latch. “It’s so feckin’ loud in here, isn’t it? I don’t know how you get any sleep.”
The headboard knocked against the wall the moment she leaned against it. “This place isn’t meant for sleep.”
The slivered moon hanging outside the window sent silver waves across the uneven planked floor. I wasn’t sure how long I’d slept, but I felt good. Good enough to make it back to Tearmann. “Steak and apple crumble, right? Anything else?”
She grinned at me from the bed, knees drawn beneath her chin. “Wine. Loads and loads of wine.”
Eava was just arriving when I reached the castle kitchens, the old witch wearing the same gray dress she wore every other day. And just like every other day, she wrapped her arms around my ribs and gave me a big squeeze. “There’s my boy.” Her sugar-dusted hugs had been the best medicine when I was a young lad. Now they felt like coming home.
When she let me go, she propped her fists on her hips and gave me a stern frown. “Ye look like a man on a mission. What’ll ye be needing?”
I placed Clara’s order and added a tray of shortbread biscuits for later. Between magic and four centuries’ worth of practice, Eava had the food ready in no time at all.
“That poor girl,” she muttered, adding a final sprinkle of sugar over the top of the pie dish. “Are ye sure there’s nothing to be done about her situation?”
I’d tried to help Clara so many times before but always hit the same barriers. After what had happened the day I was cursed, Fiadh had sold the faerie to a human living in Gaul, making her subject to Airren law. And according to Airren law, Clara was no longer a person but an object. An object that could be owned and bought and sold like a pair of feckin’ boots. It didn’t matter how much money I’d offered; her owners knew the woman was more valuable than coin.
When Clara found out, she’d laid into me like a cat-o-nine tails, giving me some shite about penance and guilt and deserving this fate.