That was exactly what she had been afraid of, him calling some more of Harry's men, men she knew would be far less kind with her. She did not want to end up being killed by Fisher, or worse being held and used against her own father. But then again she wasn't thrilled about stripping down to nothing and being made to take that long walk back home. She had two options then and she decided to take the one her body wanted, the one that would allow her to get away and still keep the clothes.
Sighing heavily, she pulled the hat off, letting her hair fall around her shoulders in a bit of a mess. Even with the knife still in her hand she began to undo the buttons of the shirt, backing up until her back touched the wall, her hands going slow, wanting to make sure he was paying attention.
When the shirt was undone enough to show her navel, she took the knife and the binding over her breasts, cutting low enough for him to get a look at them without them spilling out. Her eyes met his then, watching him as the the deep blue begged him to come closer.