make some of her own. Warm air brushed against the water dripping from her skin as she made her way back to shore.
Tressa knew weakness would only get her killed. Leo taught her that. So she stood in front of Jarrett, completely naked. "You tell anyone I'm a woman and I'll slit Henry's throat while he sleeps."
Tressa expected Jarrett to laugh. Instead his face remained serious. "I will accept those terms, but they go both ways. Now what is your real name?"
"Max is all you will ever know. Now go while I get dressed."
"I'll stay a bit up the path and make sure no one else comes upon you as I did."
"I highly doubt anyone else will wake up early from their precious nap to take a bath." Tressa mumbled as she pulled on her breeches and then began to wrap the binding around her chest. It was hard enough to do alone, much less while Jarrett looked on unashamed. "You followed me here."
"And it's a good thing I did. We share a common goal."
Tressa grunted. She pulled the binding tight and reached awkwardly to her back to tuck in the excess.
"You need help with that?"
Tressa glared at Jarrett.
"Just trying to help." There was that smile. She wanted to wipe it from his face.
"I can manage just fine on my own, thank you. I thought you were going to wait a bit up the path while I dressed." She yanked her shirt over her head and punched her fists into the sleeves.
Jarrett looked at the ground, then back at Tressa. "I suppose I got distracted."
She expected a wink, but it didn't come. The man was infuriating and impossible to understand.
"Don't count on it happening again." Tressa scooped up her pack and slung it over her shoulder.
"You might want to find another place to be this evening," Jarrett said as he followed Tressa up the path.
"Why?"
"The men were talking about bringing in a few whores."
Tressa sighed. She stopped and turned around. "Thank you."
"I'll be taking Henry to a local pub, if you'd like to join us."
"Most men would think Henry is just the right age for such a thing."
"Most men don't know Henry the way I do. It's a bad idea."
She bit her lip and looked into Jarrett's eyes. "Do you want me to take Henry to the pub?" Tressa felt awkward even asking. "I mean, so you can stay back with the other men and their, uh, entertainment?"
Jarrett grabbed Tressa's chin, forcing her to look up at him. "I don't take pleasure in a woman who doesn't take pleasure in me."
Tressa nodded and continued up the path. There was no more to say. Instead, she focused on how to kill Stacia and get back to the life she'd always wanted.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Tressa took a quick look around the pub. She didn't recognize any of the regulars from The Rooster’s Wattle. She let out a little air and relaxed.
Staying back at the compound with the others wasn't an option. The women, with their painted faces and perfumed bodies, poured into their chambers, their laughter bringing the promise of a night of debauchery. Hutton's Bridge didn't allow prostitution. Keeping the family together was one of the more important rules in their town. When inbreeding became a concern, sex had to be regulated. Control was vital to their survival. Here, there were too many people. No one had to worry about the survival of their town. Pleasure and leisure were in abundance.
Sweet smoke filled the air. Ira hadn't allowed smoking in his pub. He was too worried it would burn down. Tressa had learned that the fear of fire was a monetary concern. The owners here were either very brave or very wealthy. One glance at the decor told her wealth was the answer.
Golden filigree tipped the statues on shelves near the ceiling. The room glistened and glittered. The men sitting at the tables gambled at cards. Stacks of coins spilled in front of them. The thrill of the game mattered more than the money they took home at the end of the night. It was a far cry from the dirt and dust in Ira’s pub.
Henry pushed ahead of Tressa, knocking her to the side with his elbow.
She wanted to say something, but she'd promised Jarrett she'd keep her mouth shut. Instead, she shot him a dirty glance.
"Come on, boys, let's grab a table." Jarrett flourished his black cape.
The room went quiet.
The servers scurried over to them before Tressa’s butt touched the bench.
“How