Page 14 of Taken By the Highland Villain
Valerie smirked. “Any lass or lad who works a trade kens how to bargain for the worth of their work, My Laird. But I also helped my faither with tradin’ afore he passed away, and I supported myself and three sisters with my skills after.”
“Did ye now?”
Jude gave her a sideways look, full of disbelief and an emotion she recognized—an unspoken challenge to prove her words were true, which was echoed by his words a moment later.
“Well, if ye think ye can bargain better than Craig or Moira…” he trailed off, then unfastened a pouch at his belt and tossed it to her, before waving a hand at the market. “Buy whatever is on the list from Craig and Moira, and whatever ye need for yer work. Just dinnae spend all my silver on foolish trinkets and things that arenae necessary for one or the other.”
Valerie grinned as she hefted the pouch and secured it inside her shawl. “Dinnae fret, Laird MacFinn. I wager I can buy everythin’ ye need and still leave ye with half the coin in yer purse.”
“Och, a fine claim.” Jude waved his hand in dismissal. “What’s in the pouch is yers to use—but if ye need more, then ye’ll be explainin’ the reason behind yer purchases, andI’llbe the one decidin’ what’s necessary.”
For a moment, Valerie allowed the smirk to slide off her face as she held the pouch. It was a heavy one, far heavier than many she was used to having when she went to the market. “Ye arevery generous to entrust me with so much when ye dinnae ken aught about me.”
“A silver or thirty willnae beggar my clan, lass. And coin’s a good measure of a man or woman’s skill and their character.” Jude arched an eyebrow at her.
The challenge in his gaze, subtle as it was, was enough to make Valerie straighten her spine and give a smile that sometimes made villagers near her family home twitch—a pirate’s smile, as Lily used to call it. “Dinnae worry, My Laird. I’ll give ye a good accounting of mine.”
With that, she slipped off her horse, conscious of the Laird following her lead as she handed off the reins and made her way toward the square.
Her heart was lighter than it had been for some time as she breathed in the heady scent of leather, wood, metal hot from the forge, and food fresh from the fires. The sound of merchants bartering was like an old, familiar lullaby she’d long missed hearing.
Let Laird MacFinn be skeptical if he liked—Valerie was determined to show him exactly what kind of seamstress and trader she was.
CHAPTER 7
Jude watchedthe seamstress as she bounced from stall to stall, engaging each merchant with an easy familiarity as if they were chance-met friends, rather than strangers. He’d thought she spoke in jest, or perhaps overly prideful boasting, when she said she could bargain well and gain the full measure of worth for each trade. But he’d been wrong.
Valerie Blackwood bargained as though she’d been born to do so and taught at a master merchant’s knee since her first steps. She had an easy manner about her, and the warmth of her smile seemed able to win over the surliest trader. When she haggled, there was a teasing note to her voice—coaxing, good-humored, with just a hint of conspiratorial laughter—that made the whole exchange feel almost like a game.
It was a skill and an attitude that Jude couldn’t have imitated if he’d been whole and had a hundred seasons to practice. All he could do was watch in growing amazement and admiration as she convinced men he would have sworn were misers to reducethe cost of their wares to prices that made him want to sink to the ground with his head in his hands.
She convinced the ink maker to give her three jars for the price he might have paid for two, and the chandler to part with a crate of candles and another of soaps for a full three silvers less than what he’d have paid had he been the one bargaining.
By the time she’d finished bargaining with the leatherworker, Jude was certain that her words had been no idle boast. If anything, Valerie had understated her skills.
She’d secured half a dozen flasks of the oil Craig said they needed, and a tanned and cured hide so soft it felt like water under his hands, for two silvers and seven coppers under the merchant’s asking price.
By that time, his knee was aching from the strain of riding and standing, and they’d amassed a fair amount of goods for the castle—far more than their two horses could carry.
Jude waited until Valerie had finished with her latest round of bargaining before he limped to her side.
“Ye continue on to the cloth and thread merchants. I’m goin’ to the tavern for a drink, and to send the innkeeper’s boy up to get some men to take everythin’ back for us.”
He saw her gaze flick down to his injured, crippled leg, but to her credit, she pulled her eyes back to his face immediately, so fasthe wouldn’t have noticed had he not been looking directly at her when it happened. She also made no comment, no suggestion that he might want to rest. She simply nodded.
“Aye. We’ve purchased more than I thought we would… I hope ye dinnae mind.”
Jude shrugged. “It is items we need, and ye bargain well. So long as ye use the same skill with the cloth merchants, I dinnae mind.”
Valerie grinned, her eyes bright with mirth. “Och, My Laird, have ye never heard? There’s nay one who haggles so hard over a trade as one who makes their livin’ off their wares. I’m a seamstress, and ye can be sure I’ll be using every trick I have to get everything I could want or need for ye. Speakin’ of which, do ye have any preferences for color or fabric?”
“Fabric? Comfortable,” Jude huffed. “As for colors, clan colors and darker shades. I dinnae care for bright hues or patterns.”
“Well enough for ye, My Laird, but do ye want anythin’ else? I’ll be needin’ some brighter colors for the tapestries and the linens, I’m thinkin’, as well as dyes to redo some of the fabrics.” Valerie tipped her head. “What is yer favorite color?”
Jude grimaced. Once, he’d loved the color red, but now it reminded him of blood and red-hued skies before a storm broke over the horizon. Green as well—though that reminded him of sunlit meadows and laughter. He wanted neither.
“Earth tones, if ye must,” he muttered, then turned and limped away before she could ask him anything more.