The Black Knight of Ashfern

Chapter 8

"The arrangement, I believe, was that you would look after Jamie, and I would stay as payment." Nan barked, perplexed by Sir William's antics. "There are tailors in Ashfern that could fit me with a dress or two for nearly a third of the cost. There is no need to send to London for an overpriced seamstress." Nan rebuked, not noticing until she had finished speaking just how Sir William was regarding her.

Sitting behind his desk, his hands clasped across his stomach, he stared up at her, seemingly amused by her scolding. If the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth was any indication.

"I was unaware that your tiny hut contained an entire wardrobe of women's attire. Tell me, were they as grand as the frock I found you in? Did you have a gown for every occasion? Season? A dress for every day? What of your undergarments? Or were those, too, the rewards of Carrie's generosity? Second, third, mayhap in even forth hand petticoats, corsets, and bloomers. I would add stockings, but by the state of your feet when I brought you here, those had gone to rot quite some time ago. Not even your shoes were made for you." He replied with ease, though there was a fine edge to his words Nan could hardly miss. "And what of your boy?" he continued, his tone losing most of its previous amusement. "Did he, too, have a multitude of ensembles to choose from? Or merely the scraps of those multitude? Would you deny him—"

"I would deny him nothing!" Nan cut in, anger and panic rising up her spine as she glared at the man seated before her.

"Then, do not deny me!" he snapped, lunging up from his seat. "What I give to you, the brat receives only because he is yours. Deny me, and you deny him. Is that understood?"

"Yes." Nan answered, her ire restrained only because of Jaime, and what this man could and most likely would do to him if she lashed out. "Have you finished with your...terms?"

"I have nothing further to add on this matter." He shook his head, reclaiming his seat.

"Then I would take my leave."

"As you like." Sir William nodded, waving a dismissive hand towards the door as he picked up an idle paper from his desk. With a small curtsy, Nan bowed her head and turned for the door, stopping short as William's voice sounded once more. Turning to him as he addressed her, "I sup at seven o'clock. I would like very much for you to join me tonight."

"As you like," Nan replied with a short nod, then turned and left.

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Nan wandered the halls of Stonebrook with only half a mind to explore her new home. Or was it a prison? Her thoughts, normally an easy meandering path to follow, had converged into one central focus. Her host and his tactics to make her stay. She should not have been surprised that Sir William Horton, the Black Knight, would seek to use Jamie against her. He was her weakness, and well, Sir William knew it, not that anyone with half a mind wouldn't. For Jamie, Nan would do anything, suffer any fate, and even be the companion to the devil himself if she had to. Though, she was beginning to think that may be just what she had agreed to.

Nan had never spent much time worrying over men with quick tempers; they seldom had the presence of mind to know it was safer to think themselves out of a problem rather than fight. She'd seen the outcomes of such stupidity stumble, drag, or be tossed from Banger's Pub more times than she cared to recall. And she'd heard Sir William Horton was of that same lot. However, her experience with him thus far stated he was far from quick-tempered. Merely bored, and in many ways, a bored man was worse than a quick-tempered one. Bored men sought amusement from those around them, giving graciously until they were no longer entertained, and when that happened, their search for amusement could become twisted and dangerous. Nan had seen it many times with Carrie's girls. She did not fancy it happening to her.