Bryce could not argue with that. He called out to her. ‘Maren, I am glad you skewered that redcoat, lass, and I applaud your courage.’ Bryce found he meant it, for he admired her fierce independence and fighting spirit. She was the kind of woman who set a fire, not only in a man’s loins but in his heart too. The thought made him recall his last words with his father, and he frowned. ‘I am sorry for your predicament, Maren. Truly.’
‘I doubt you can comprehend it, for you know nothing of a woman’s lot in life, Bryce Cullan, and your sort never will. Now stop talking to me. ‘Tis punishment enough to sit in this cold cell without the added torment of listening to you complain and tease me by turns.’
‘Why talk to me at all then, Maren?’
Her voice fell to sadness. ‘Because you have a handsome face, fit to stir a young girl’s heart, and it eases me to look on something fine before my life goes to hell.’
After that, she would not speak to Bryce again, and there was no more conversation to be had for hours until the jangle of keys against a lock announced the return of Maggot.
‘Court is in session,’ he said, thrusting his grotesque face close to the bars. ‘The magistrate will see you first, seeing as how you paid.’
‘Did you tell him my name?’ said Bryce.
‘What name is that?’ said Maggot with the blank expression of a sheep.
‘Never mind. Let us get on, shall we.’
As Maggot opened the cell door to release Bryce, the jailor smirked cruelly at Maren. ‘Best say your goodbyes to this one, lass. Won’t be no gentlemen where you are going.’
Maren pressed her face to the bars as Bryce was led away. ‘Farewell, Bryce Cullan. I hope the magistrate is feeling generous this day,’ she shouted after him.
He briefly turned around and frowned at her, and then he was gone without a word.
Maren watched Bryce Cullan walk out of her life with a sigh of resignation. She was nought but a diversion to him, something to lighten the tedium of being locked up. Like most men, he had flattered and flirted, knowing full well that his good looks and easy manner would get him what he wanted. Oh, to have the confidence of money and family behind you.
Yet when Bryce had said he was sorry for her predicament, the mischief in his eyes had softened to sincerity. And what eyes they were – a hooded blue-green, the colour of the ocean when a shaft of sunlight hits it, and far too beautiful for a man to possess – heart breakers to be sure, liars definitely. He would soon be free to return to his comfortable life and careless selfishness, and he would forget her.
Bryce Cullan’s wealth put him out of reach for one such as her, yet she hung on to the memory of his manly beauty as a comfort. Maren conjured his image in her mind - his dark blonde hair, streaked to gold in places, and the stubble on his face, with the tiniest hint of red And that square jawline was softened by a winning smile, but he gave it too readily for her to trust in it. Rather that smile of joviality masked a cunning predator all too willing to take whatever a woman offered and more besides.
Aye, Bryce Cullan was way too pretty of face to be trusted, and she would not be lured onto her back by the sparkle of mischief and promise of pleasure in his eyes. Though even her uncharitable temperament would have to own that he was a hard man to look away from
Maren slumped against the bars. She had only the slimmest hope that Lawson would come. Her message most likely did not reach his ears, and even if it had, he could not sway a magistrate. He would try, for his infatuation was strong enough, but there was no point in hoping. That was a fool’s errand. Instead, she must steel herself for the next blow to come. A harsh whine interrupted her bleak thoughts.
‘Happen I could have had him if you had not gotten in the way with your fancy way of speaking and batting your eyelashes.’
Maren rolled her eyes and regarded Angel balefully. ‘How on earth could you have gotten him? There are bars between us, and an ocean of privilege besides.’
‘What?’ said Angel, mouth hanging open.
‘Fine folk like him think nothing of us, Angel, and they never will.’
‘Well, one of us should have caught him, is all I am saying. It would be no chore to lie with such a pretty one as he, and his pockets bulging with coin too.’
‘I’m not a whore, Angel.’
‘Well, when they put you on that ship to the colonies, you soon will be. Don’t think those sailors will be put off by your high and mighty ways. We are all whores in the end, Maren,’ she said, with unusual insight for a lass blessed with so little intelligence.
Suddenly, Maren had no energy to snap at Angel, and her fate crashed in on her. She stifled a sob. It would not do to show weakness now. She had barely cried for years - not when she had stared down at Drayton’s pulped face or when her father had struck her and cast her out for not wedding another of his cronies. No, there was only that one time, after redcoats had come and set fire to the new life she had so carefully built for herself.
Keys rattled in the door, and Maren sprung to her feet. Bryce Cullan had come back. A foolish smile broke on her face.
Maggot entered with a thuggish-looking man following in his wake. He had a bald head with a spider’s web of tattoos, knuckles like haunches of pork and deep-set, vicious eyes.
‘Munro!’ cried Angel with glee, jumping up and down. She turned to Maren. ‘My man has come to get me out,’ she sneered. ‘But no one is coming for you save the Devil himself. You will soon meet your end for your treachery.’ She took a finger and slid it across her throat with a smirk.
‘What are you talking about?’ said Maren.
The thuggish man said nothing as Maggot unlocked the cell door. Then he rushed in, grabbed Angel roughly by the arm, making her howl, and dragged her away, muttering, ‘Shut your mouth. Hurry up. Come on. I have paid enough coin for you. Time to get to work, you lazy drab.’
