“I’m a whore, doc. Simple enough? I take customers here. I bought the house on my own and tied the knot with Fearchar when he kept pursuing me,” she called from the bedroom. He looked back at her. She was pulling on her chemise and stockings.
“Chased her ’round and ’round ’til she up’n caught me,” Fearchar teased her back.
“Best catch of my life, only followed up shortly by that salmon last summer.” She pulled her stays tight.
“That was a pure barry catch,” Fearchar agreed with her. He turned to Eoin, “Swear’s that creature ‘s a monster. Smoked it ‘n ate on if f’r the next three months. Haven’t been able ta eat salmon since then,” he grouched.
“Say, Seonaid, ye’re learned,” he started off. She popped her head out of the door, her eyebrow raised in a question. “Mind giving this a look over?” he offered her the scroll Eoin had given him earlier.
“Aye, let me pull on my apron,” she came out the door and tied the bow at her back. She went over to a pitcher and bowl and washed her hands off in the water before drying them with a thin towel. She came and took the scroll over to the dining table and brought a lamp over.
Eoin picked himself up off the floor and went over to the table to sit down. Seonaid looked it over once. She glared at the masked man and over to her husband who was looking at her expectantly. “Tha’s quite a commitment you signed up for, Fear, love,” she handed the scroll back to him.
“So wha’s it say. Ah ‘aven’t sold my soul to the devil, ‘ave Ah?” he fidgeted, nervously opening the scroll to stare at the scribbles.
“Just about,” she set her head in her hand to regard Eoin studiously. Fearchar glanced up at her, his cheeks pale.