Page 39 of Sweet Mead for Lady Martine

“Oh. Of course,” she said, trying not to sound disheartened. She didn’t like being here if David was gone. Martine suddenly felt very uncomfortable without even the women to talk to. “Well, I suppose we should get started then. No sense wasting time.” She laid her cloak on the table, looking around the filthy place. “Dirk, can you start picking up the dirty dishes? It smells foul in here. We’ll need to sweep, scrub the tables, and open more windows for a while to air it out.”

“It’s winter. It’ll make the place too cold if we open more windows,” said Dirk. “Then I’ll have to chop more wood for the fire. Besides, I don’t start chores until after breakfast.” He reached out and took a strand of Cinnamon’s long hair in between his fingers and brushed it over the tops of her breasts, trying to tickle her. She slapped his hand and walked away.

“Dirk, you fool. You already ate an entire loaf of bread this morning so you had your breakfast,” scolded Uncle Joe. “Listen to Lady Martine.”

Martine would have given Joe a job, but she wasn’t sure what a blind man could do. She figured she’d wait and ask David about him.

“You’re not in your usual elaborate surroundings, Missy,” said Cinnamon. “Go back to the castle where you belong.”

At first, Martine felt like turning and running. She truly didn’t belong here. The girl was right. Then, Martine decided she wasn’t going to let the hussy upset her. That would only give her power over her and Martine wasn’t about to do that.

“Excuse me, Nutmeg,” she said, purposely saying the girl’s pet name wrong.

“It’s Cinnamon. Like Sin,” said the whore with a sarcastic smile.

“I don’t like that name. Besides, sinning isn’t a good thing,” said Martine, slowly walking over to the drink board.

“It might not sound good to you, but it is very good for me,” said the whore. “Sinning is what makes me lots and lots of money.” She shook the pouch of coins at her side to prove her point. It looked to be nearly full.

“Is that the money you made for the week?” asked Martine, coming up next to the girl now.

“The week? Hah! This is all from one night. That’s how good I am.” She removed the money pouch and held it up, shaking it and jingling the coins loudly.

“I see.” Martine’s hand shot out. “Hand it over.”

“What? Nay. You aren’t touching my money.” The whore scowled at her and shoved the coin pouch down her cleavage, keeping her hands over it in a protective manner.

“If you work here, then you owe half the money you make to the inn,” Martine told her.

“What? Nay. I do not!” That angered the hussy to no end. “I’ve always kept every coin I earned. That’s the deal I had with first David’s father and now with him. They let me keep what I make because I bring in lots of customers.”

“Those same customers are not here buying drinks if they’re up in the rooms with you now, are they?” asked Martine. “This inn pays rent to Lord Corbett Blake, and you will do the same by paying rent to David from now on.” She continued to hold out her hand.

“Who do you think you are? Just because you’re a noble doesn’t mean you can take my money.” The whore screwed up her face looking like a shrew now.

“I’m the new owner of the Cross Hare Inn,” stated Martine. “Now, hand over half the money or you can find another place to work. I will not let you stay without contributing your share to keep this place open.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Yes, she can,” came a voice from the door. David walked in with a small barrel propped up on his shoulder. “Dirk, help the women out of the cart and then bring in the casks,” David commanded.

“Fine,” grumbled Dirk, heading outside.

David put down the barrel behind the drink board and nodded to Martine. “Good morning, Lady Martine.”

“Good morning, David. I missed you when I arrived,” she said, flashing David a smile, feeling relieved that he’d finally returned.

“I’ll bet she did miss you,” complained Cinnamon. “And when you bed David, Missy, are you going to give half of the coin you’ve earn to the tavern as well?”

Before Martine could stop herself, she reached out and slapped the whore across the face. Cinnamon raised her fists as if she were going to fight back, but David rushed over and stepped in between them.

“Stop it!” shouted David. “Cinnamon, if I hear another disrespectful word toward Lady Martine, you are out of here. Do you understand?”

“Davie, you don’t mean that. Not after what we’ve been through together.” The whore pouted and started to reach out for him but he grabbed her wrist to stop her. Martine was certain she was probably meaning to grab his groin the way she had done with her last customer.

David spoke through gritted teeth, still holding her wrist. “We’ve been through nothing together, Cinnamon. Absolutely nothing. Do you hear me? Now apologize to Lady Martine.”

“I don’t want to.”