Chapter 1
Elora sloshed through the muddy ruts created by the wagons of farmers who’d brought their goods to the market that morning. The dismal clouds which had hung heavy and gray over the village most of the day had finally dumped all their rain by mid-afternoon, filling the ruts and making the dirt too slippery for boots not to constantly slide into them.
Of course, it didn’t help that every window was dark, candles snuffed for the night. All except for the small Inn. Since that was Elora’s destination, it was the only one that mattered. She hurried around the worst of the rain filled trenches, hugging the carefully wrapped garment to her like an infant. She decided to cut through the stables, as they would be far less treacherous.
Almost as soon as she stepped inside, Elora could hear the unmistakable sounds of an erotic tryst. It wasn’t uncommon. Ashamedly, she’d watched many a man fuck maids in that very building, her curiosity too strong not to look away when she should have. Luckily, she’d never been caught or it was hard telling what the consequences would’ve been.
At the moment, Elora’s only concern was getting her hard work delivered to a paying customer as promised, even if the sounds had her body awakening in ways it did a lot more often lately. Prepared to quietly backtrack and go around the stables, the quiet moans of the woman reached her ears and the words froze her to the spot.
“Oh, Daddy. Daddy, harder.”
With wide eyes, Elora recognized the sound of the Innkeeper’s daughter, Irabelle. But the more disturbing voice came after.
“Aye, you like that. Don’t you, little belle?” It was Farl, Irabelle’s stepfather.
His response was followed by the increase of slapping skin and pleasured grunts.
Shocked, Elora’s heart started racing, knowing what kind of illicit and shameful act she’d just happened upon. Her desire to flee was immediate, but in doing so, she knocked over a rake, which clattered loudly on the hard-packed earth.
Still, Elora ran with all her might, praying she’d made it out of sight before either Farl or Irabelle managed to spot her.
It took a moment to calm her heart when she reached the front of the Inn. If not for desperately needing the coin the dress would fetch, she would’ve merely run straight home. But Elora couldn’t leave without delivering at the time she’d given. Her quickness with thread and needle was what kept her prized above the other seamstresses in the village.
Adjusting her bundle, she took a deep, calming breath and entered the Inn. Irabelle’s mother, Junip was behind the polished wood counter where she served ale and food by order. She smiled at her in greeting, and it made Elora heartsick to know the woman was so innocently ignorant of her husband’s immoral affair with her daughter.
One thing Elora’s mother had always taught her, though, was to never stir trouble because it always came back on the messenger the worst. So, she returned the woman’s smile and stuck to the most important business at hand.
“Here’s the dress you ordered for the festivities tomorrow, Junip,” she announced.
“Oh, delightful,” the older woman celebrated clasping her hands together. “Let’s have a look.”
Elora laid the garment on the bar and untied the wrappings, peeling them back to show the Innkeeper. Junip’s face lit up and she covered her mouth.
“Oh, Elora. It’s beautiful,” she praised. “Belle is going to look just lovely in this. The loveliest of all the maidens.”
A tight fist clenched around Elora’s chest and throat. She’d made the dress for Irabelle?
That wouldn’t have bothered her before, but knowing what she did now made Elora want to snatch the garment away from Junip and tell her never mind. Unfortunately, she couldn’t do that. Her purse was empty of coin, and she needed too many supplies.
“I’ll fetch your sum, dear,” Junip said, snapping Elora from her thoughts with a bright smile and touch on her hand. “You just stay put.”
The woman took the garment, disappearing through the opening behind the counter. The back door to the Inn opened and Elora jumped, fearing that it might be Farl or Irabelle. Thankfully, it was only a new customer who knocked the mud off his boots and entered the rest of the way to close the door.
A chilled breeze swept through the room from that brief opening of the door, causing Elora to pull her cloak closer around her. She turned her attention back to the doorway where the Innkeeper was sure to reappear soon, but her clasp came undone.
Elora caught both sides of her cloak quickly before the heavy material could fall from her shoulders. Swearing under her breath, she carefully refastened it, settling it just right. The frog was old and needed to be replaced, but she didn’t have enough coin to buy a new one. All her money went to keeping herself in business.
“That’s an interesting necklace,” a deep, male voice said from beside her.
Elora gasped and peered into the face of the man who’d just entered through the back door. With his hat now removed, his features were fully revealed for her eyes and she couldn’t believe how handsome he was, even if it was a bit rugged. His eyes, more than anything, were an enchanting shade of blue.
His hard, masculine jaw and the hollowed planes of his cheeks were covered in the same dark brown hair that waved over his head and curled around his ears. The mustache and beard weren’t overly thick, but it had certainly been a good week or more since it had seen a blade.
Then Elora spotted the gold ring upon his pinky and the cleverly sheathed dagger up his sleeve as he removed his expensive gloves. There was an air of smug confidence and intrigue barely veiled by his charm that gave her a completely different kind of chill than the cold wind.
He was a Highwayman. Elora gripped her cloak tighter over her necklace and looked away, far more disappointed than she would’ve expected.
“It’s not worth anything,” she vowed, even if it was worth everything to her.
“I see,” he said, the corner of his mouth curving up in a smirk.
To her relief, the Innkeeper reemerged from the kitchen at that moment with a satchel of coin. She smiled brightly at the newcomer.
“Welcome to the Inn, what’ll it be for ya?” she asked.
After she fulfilled the man’s order for a pint and he sauntered to the fire to warm himself as newcomers always did, Junip clasped Elora’s hand between hers, slyly giving her the satchel of coin. The older woman leaned closer to keep her voice down.
“I gave ya a bit extra for the fast service, love, and the beautiful work. Ya should consider asking for more from those who can give it.”
Elora’s heart broke a little from the unexpected kindness, knowing what she did about the woman’s husband and daughter. But she didn’t dare say a word. Instead, she vowed to find a way to repay Junip, even if she couldn’t do it directly.
“Thank you, Junip,” she said sincerely. “Blessings to you.”
With another glance at the handsome Highwayman, Elora left through the front of the Inn. Why did he have to be a thief? She shoved the lingering disappointment from her mind and secured the satchel safely in the top of her dress, under her breast where a pickpocket wouldn’t think to look for it. Then, she focused on traversing the slippery ground back toward her little cottage in the woods.
It was unnerving that she had to bypass the stables again, but there was no way around it. The road was much worse on the opposite side, so she tried to just be as fast as possible. Her breath huffed out with relief when she made it passed the open end without anyone stopping her.
Approaching the darkness beyond, where the lights from lanterns no longer penetrated, Elora was nearly startled out of her skin when an arm swung toward her from around the final corner of the stables.
Her breath burst out when she was grabbed and shoved against the wall. Fear churned like bile in her stomach and up the back of her throat to come face-to-face with a furious Farl.
“Whatcha doin’ sneaking around, girl?” he snarled.
“Please, sir? I only came to deliver the dress your wife ordered,” Elora pleaded.
His face began to soften, but another hand slapped over her mouth from the other direction, causing her to jump again.
“Don’tcha lie, snoop,” Irabelle growled quietly, leaning into Elora’s face. “We know you saw us.”
Elora shook her head, but she’d never been any good at lying and knew it the moment they saw the truth in her eyes.
“You did,” Irabelle accused dangerously. “What’d you do, go running to my ma to tattle?”
Again Elora shook her head, but this time it was the truth. Farl even loosened his hold on her a little because he obviously believed her. Everyone knew he wasn’t the man of his family, despite his giant, burly size and rough demeanor. His wife and stepdaughter had him under their thumbs, and apparently a lot further than that.
“Don’t matter. You still seen what you shouldn’t a,” Irabelle replied. “So, maybe you’re gonna have a little accident—”
When Irabelle grabbed her right hand, Elora panicked. If they injured her hands in any way, she might never be able to sew again and she had no other skills to earn the coin she needed to survive. She struggled hard and felt her cloak sliding off, the clasp having come undone again.
“Heya. What’s that?” Irabelle’s eyes lit up when she spotted Elora’s necklace.
Though, she fought even harder, Farl was just too strong. He pinned her more firmly against the wall and Irabelle snatched the necklace right off her neck, snapping the chain.
At once, Elora saw her mouse brown hair change to raven black out of the corner of her eye and knew the rest of her previously hidden features were also revealed.
Farl and Irabelle both jumped back from her, as if she’d burst into flames rather than just changing appearance. For a moment they were both too stunned to speak. Elora knew it was because she was unusually beautiful.
Her hair was black as night, her eyes a dark blue. And despite her delicate features, her body had all the feminine curves men always fought each other to touch. That was why Elora’s mother had given everything she had to have the necklace made for her.
It had been enchanted by a Mage Priestess so that whenever she wore it, her appearance would seem like that of a plain village girl with mouse brown hair and brown eyes, her features and body shape so ordinary they’d never draw any closer attention.
Elora’s mother had feared for her safety if people knew what she really looked like. Even as a child. Or perhaps, especially as a child.
One of those reasons flew out of Irabelle’s mouth, confirming Elora’s worst fears.
“Witch,” Irabelle gasped with a strained breath before her voice grew louder and more damning. “Witch! WITCH!”
