Drawn to the Flame- Book 1 Council of the Light Series

6

Clarence swore under his breath, he was so careful to check them before he gave them to her. "What is he to the Leprechauns that they pay him an allowance to keep well away from them?"

"He's a Humanist. His beliefs are treason, and you can work out the rest yourself because I won't sit here and betray his confidence."

"How noble-" Beatrix grumbled. "Why do you pay the Mayor of Gelding Town fifteen silvers a month as protection money?"

"Gelding Town is a smugglers paradise but we don't want to have our goods smuggled in return. We pay him to overlook certain things- that might not otherwise be overlooked."

Like me, Clarence thought to himself.

"But fifteen silvers is almost as much as we took last month."

Fred frowned, "I'll not charge the locals more for local beer- I'll have no customers left."

"On the nights Clarence plays the fiddle you get three times the custom- you need to ask him to play twice a week, on a Friday and on a Saturday, that's when the most people come in."

"I won't ask him to work for me." Fred cautioned.

"He's going to have to if he wants to keep his home."

Clarence would gladly play twice a week.

"What else would you have me do?" Fred asked.

"You need to think about the times when the pub is open and not making money," she told him. "We hardly ever take over lunchtimes unless the dock hands finish unloading cargo, but loads of travelers come for food and we turn them away. There's footfall on a Tuesday and Thursday when the passenger ships come in, and the travellers on their way to Cork are always looking for a meal."

Clarence took a deep breath and entered the room, "Morning," he told them.

"Early for you!" Beatrix exclaimed. Exactly as he had expected her to. She looked as beautiful as she always did, her dark eyes reflecting the morning light, her lips moist from the mint and honey tea. Her suspicion and concern aside, every time he looked at her she got more stunning.

Clarence smiled at her and slid onto a stall, "What are you two plotting?"

"Beatrix's telling me how to run my business," Fred told him. "She seems to think she knows how to make me profitable."

Clarence pulled the teapot over and tipped the dregs into an earthenware mug. "Go on then, if it were up to you, what would you do?"

Beatrix pushed her hair behind her ear and her eyes flicked up to meet his. He felt the usual shiver across his skin as he watched her, but her eyes moved to Fred. He noticed the softness of Fred's gauze, the fondness that now resided in his eyes for her a mix of relief and jealousy followed. As much as he had crafted this, whenever Fred looked at her like that he wanted to hit him.

"I would sell something easy for travellers. On my world we had cream tea- it was a pot of tea and scones with jam and cream."

"What's a scone?" Fred asked.

Beatrix gawped at him, "I suppose, you people don't eat much cake, do you? You have sugar though, I saw bags of it being carted to the brewers. Does it cost a lot?"

Clarence shrugged.

"You mix the sugar with some flower and add some milk and butter, mix it up, cook it and eat it with Jam."

"And you think people will buy them at Lunchtime?"

"Yes, for three coppers a scone they will."

"That's pricey."