The Highlander's English Bride
Page 38
“As did Mr. Francis, eventually,” Graeme dryly replied.
Jackie laughed. “Och, that dandy prat. Thought to get rid of us, he did.”
“Well, you were evicted.”
“Poncy fool even threatened us. Francis said he would complain to Musgrave if we tried to use Lochnagar lands. Said Musgrave was an important man.” Jackie snorted. “And close to the king, as if we give a shite about that.”
“So, you threatened Francis and scared him off.”
“Oh, aye,” Magnus said, who’d just clomped back in to retrieve another cask. “Told him we’d gut him and throw him into the loch. Silly bugger believed us.”
Jackie snorted out another laugh.
“But that wasn’t enough. You needed to scare Musgrave off, too. That’s why you started those rumors of a plot against him.”
“Aye.”
Graeme couldn’t help a bit of professional curiosity. “How did you get the rumors started?”
“Used our contacts on the smuggling routes. We run our stuff into Argyll, Inverness, even Edinburgh. Easy enough to drop a word here and there, and then it spreads.”
“You made it sound like it was about the Clearances, not smuggling.”
“Lots of people angry over the Clearances, so it made sense.” Jackie shot Graeme a hard look. “Can ye blame them?”
“No. But it was never about that.”
Jackie shrugged.
“And what about the threats to the king? Was that another distraction?”
Dickie, who was dragging a cask across the floor, flashed a grin. “Och, we was just larkin’ about with that one. Havin’ a bit of fun.”
Graeme glared at him. “You spread rumors about killing the king, just for fun?”
“Oy, dinna be draggin’ that cask,” Jackie barked. “Pick it up, ye lazy oaf.”
Dickie bristled. “I ain’t lazy, Jackie. My arms are gettin’ tired.”
“I’ll make ’em more than tired if ye break a cask.”
Graeme sat there, stunned into silence. For a month, he’d been driving himself crazy over an assassination rumor that had turned out to be a damn joke. No wonder it had proved so elusive.
He throttled back the urge to bang his head on the table. “The threat to Musgrave wasn’t a lark, though.”
Jackie shrugged. “If we scared him good and proper, we figured he’d leave us alone. Especially after Francis skived off.”
Graeme narrowed his gaze. “You bloody well shot at Lady Sabrina.”
“I wasna tryin’ to hit her,” Magnus earnestly said. “I’d never shoot a woman.”
“But the silly bitch must be too stupid to get scared,” Jackie said with disgust.
Once he was free, Graeme would take a great deal of satisfaction in pummeling Jackie into the dirt.
“And what about the bed?” he asked. “How’d you pull that off?”
Jackie frowned. “What bed?”
“The bed in Lady Sabrina’s room. The wooden canopy collapsed onto it.”
Magnus and Dickie exchanged confused looks.
“I dinna ken what ye be talkin’ about,” Jackie said.
If this situation weren’t so horribly deranged, Graeme would have laughed. Sabrina was right. It had been wood rot, after all.
“So, your plan was to scare Musgrave, terrorize the locals into silence, and continue your business on Lochnagar lands.”
“Aye, that’s about the size of it,” Jackie smugly replied.
“Far be it from me to criticize,” Graeme said, “but that is a remarkably stupid plan.”
Magnus nodded. “My mam didna like the plan one bit, ye ken.”
“Shut up about yer mam,” Jackie snarled, “or I’ll bash yer stupid face.”
Graeme leaned across the table, ignoring his throbbing hands. “Look, I’ve done a bit of illegal distilling myself. But you’ve been terrorizing innocent people and risking lives. It has to stop.”
“Musgrave threw us off our lands and ruined our business,” Jackie retorted. “What the hell else were we supposed to do?”
“Go legitimate. The British government is starting to legalize operations as big as yours. In fact, they’re encouraging Highlanders to obtain licenses for legal breweries.”
Dickie dropped a cask. “What?”
“Dinna be dropping the goods,” Jackie roared.
Dickie and Magnus ignored him.
“Ye mean we can do this, legal-like?” Magnus asked in a disbelieving tone.
“Yes.”
“Bollocks,” Jackie spat out. “Dinna believe him, lads.”
“Word of a Highlander and word of a Kendrick,” Graeme said. “Parliament is looking to put an end to the smuggling, and they know there’s a demand for a higher quality brew. Everyone knows that means Highland whisky, made by Highlanders.”
Graeme was all in favor of the government’s new direction. The smuggling trade would always find a way around the law. It was much better to bring the illegal distilleries into the fold, an elegant solution for everyone involved.
“Coo,” breathed Dickie. “Wouldna that be somethin’?”
“In fact, I suspect Lady Sabrina would be willing to partner with you.”
If not, Graeme would. After all, he was already familiar with the business model.
“If ye think I’ll be doin’ business with some bleedin’ Sassenach, yer out of yer bleedin’ mind,” Jackie sneered.
Magnus still looked hopeful. “But my mam—”
Jackie pounded the table, rattling the glassware. “If ye dinna shut up about yer mam, I’ll toss her into the bloody loch.”
Magnus looked shocked. “Jackie, she’s yer auntie!”
“Och, shut yer trap.” Jackie glared at Graeme. “I ain’t stupid, ye ken. Musgrave willna be workin’ with the likes of me. He’ll see me hanged first.”
Likely true, since Jackie had threatened Sabrina. To Musgrave, that would constitute a hanging offense.
But Magnus and Dickie were clearly harmless and eager for a way out.
Divide and conquer.
Graeme shrugged. “You have a legal and profitable way out of this mess, but if you want to toss that chance aside, it’s your choice.”
“Yer damn right it is.”
Dickie breathed out a sad sigh. Magnus now looked both morose and swollen.
“So, what’s the plan?” Graeme asked. “You’ve got to know you’re done here.”
“Aye, this is our last run.” Jackie looked thoughtful, but then suddenly flashed an evil grin. “But I gots a new plan, thanks to you. And it’s a good one.”
He shoved to his feet. “Dinna ye worry, lads,” he said to his kin. “I’ll be gettin’ us a good haul, and then we’ll be shakin’ the dirt of the Highlands from our boots.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sabrina had been pacing the carpet in the drawing room for the last half hour. By now she knew every faded line and squiggle in the Persian design.
“Come have a dram,” Ainsley said from the chaise, where she was working on her needlepoint. “It’ll calm your nerves.”
“You said that when I had my first dram. It didn’t work.” Sabrina had no intention of getting tipsy when Graeme might be in trouble and needing her help. “He should have returned at least a half hour ago to change for dinner. But no one has seen him since that stupid fight.”
“We’re keeping country dinner hours, remember? He likely just lost track of time.”
After the horrid scene at breakfast, Sabrina had stormed up to her bedroom and had to storm right out again, since the servants were still cleaning up the mess. By the time she’d retreated to the garden and done a bit more stalking around the overgrown paths, she’d begun to feel entirely foolish about her tantrum.
The fact that Graeme had acted like an idiot didn’t excuse the silly things she’d said. This soon-to-be-marriage business was certainly turning out to be complicated.
“He’s obviously off looking for various Barrs and other vil
lainous types,” Ainsley said. “Kendricks hate standing still when there’s a problem. They’d rather run off half-cocked than sit and have a sensible discussion.”
Sabrina sighed and dropped into the closest chair. “I know I’m acting silly.”
“You’re acting like a woman in love, and Graeme is acting like a man in love. It takes some getting used to.”
“But what if he is in trouble?”
“Graeme is the one member of this family who is almost indestructible. He has survived more mishaps than you can imagine.”
“One’s luck does eventually run out.”
“He doesn’t survive out of luck. Graeme is very capable. And very smart. He’s really quite formidable.” Ainsley pointed a finger at her. “Do not tell him I said that. He’ll get a swelled head.”
Despite her anxiety, Sabrina chuckled. “He already has one.”
“It’s an act. He’s really just a very nice boy.”
“He is rather nice, isn’t he?”
“Yes, and perfectly capable of looking after himself. He’ll be fine.”
Except he hadn’t been fine when Old Bill had gotten his hands on him. Graeme occasionally did reckless things. Sabrina had the feeling this could be one of those occasions.
When Royal came in, she twisted in her chair.
“Anything?” she anxiously asked.
“I’m afraid not. Brian confirmed that he went out riding shortly after breakfast and has not been seen since.”
“Drat the man,” Ainsley said. “What do you want to do?”
“I told Bobby to saddle up a few horses. We’re going to go out and look for him.”
Sabrina stood. “I’m going with you.”
Royal frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Graeme would kill me if I let you come along, especially if there turns out to be trouble.”
“I don’t care.”
Ainsley put aside her needlepoint. “Dearest, I don’t think—”
Mrs. Wilson stuck her head into the room. “My lady, the vicar is here. He’s insisting—”
Mr. Brown slid by the housekeeper. “I’m sorry to be impolite, Lady Sabrina, but we have a problem.”
“Is it Graeme?” she asked.
The vicar solemnly nodded. “Unfortunately, it would appear that Mr. Kendrick has been kidnapped by the Barr family.”
Sabrina pressed a hand to her suddenly roiling stomach. Royal muttered a curse.
“Do we know if he’s unharmed?” Ainsley quickly asked.
“As far as we know,” Brown replied.
Sabrina ignored her protesting insides. “How did you learn of this?”
“Rather unbelievably, one of the Barrs came to me looking for help. He’s not keen on kidnapping and is most unhappy with Jackie Barr.”
“Jackie Barr is the ringleader?” Royal asked.
“Correct,” the vicar replied. “Magnus is part of the smuggling ring, yet is rather a simple soul.”
“For a smuggler,” Ainsley dryly interjected.
“Most of the family is quite decent,” Brown earnestly said. “Jackie’s the true problem. He’s frightened his family into doing his bidding. But this business with Mr. Kendrick was too much for poor Magnus. He showed up on my doorstep less than an hour ago. I would have come sooner, but it took me some time to get the story out of him.”
“Where is Magnus now?” Sabrina asked.
“I brought him to the pub to speak to old Mr. Chattan. Mr. Monroe is keeping an eye on him.” Brown grimaced. “They’re demanding a ransom. Magnus was to pass a note to you through a servant at Lochnagar. One of the demands is that you bring the ransom money yourself, Lady Sabrina.”
“Good God,” Royal said, disgusted. “Not this again.”
Sabrina waved an impatient hand. “Why didn’t Magnus come directly to me for help?”
“He’s frightened.” Brown shrugged. “And he trusts me.”
She nodded. “I’ll go fetch my purse.”
And she’d need to get a few of the jewels she’d brought on this trip. If she and Graeme persisted in getting held up and kidnapped, she’d soon have nothing left to wear.
Royal put out a restraining hand. “Hang on. We need a plan—and help. Vicar, do you think any of the villagers would be willing to assist?”
“Possibly,” Brown said. “I can’t be sure.”
“Blast. Because they don’t trust me yet,” Sabrina said.
The vicar gave a helpless shrug.
Royal grimaced. “We don’t dare go charging into this situation without backup.”
“We’re not going to charge,” Sabrina said. “I’m simply going to bring the ransom and get Graeme back.”
“Sabrina, Barr hates you. There’s no telling what he would do once he got you in his clutches.”
“I’m afraid that’s true, my lady,” Brown said.
She flapped her arms. “Well, do any of you have a better idea?”
“You have to ask for help,” Ainsley calmly said. “From your people.”
“But they don’t trust me.”
Ainsley shook her head. “That’s not clear. What they do know, however, is that you haven’t cut and run.”
Sabrina stepped on her panic. What choice was there? She had to trust that Ainsley was right.
“I need to speak to Magnus Barr,” Sabrina said, heading for the door. “And then we need to muster a rescue.”
The others scrambled after her into the hall.
“Royal, can you see that our horses are saddled?” Sabrina asked. “I’m going up to put on my riding boots and fetch my purse.”
He nodded and strode down the hall past a startled Mrs. Wilson.
“Mrs. Wilson, please fetch your husband,” Sabrina instructed. “I might need his help.”
“Aye, my lady.” She hurried off in Royal’s wake.
“What do you wish me to do?” the vicar asked.
“Keep Magnus at the pub, please. Tie him down if you must, but don’t let him leave.” She then dashed for the stairs.
Ainsley caught up with her. “That was very masterful. Graeme would be proud.”
“If anything happens to him . . .” Sabrina couldn’t even finish the thought.
“Just get your things. I’ll meet you out front in ten minutes.”
Ainsley picked up her skirts and ran down the corridor toward her bedroom.
Sabrina pelted in the other direction, bursting into her room. She threw a wool pelisse over her evening gown and wrestled on her boots. Then she grabbed her reticule, along with a few bracelets and an opal necklace, and went back down the hall at a dead run.
When she reached the front door, Wilson and Ainsley were waiting for her.
“We look ridiculous,” Ainsley said as they hurried to the courtyard. “A mad rescue in our evening gowns. We’ll never hear the end of it from Graeme.”
Sabrina flashed a wobbly smile as the groom gave her a leg up into the saddle. The others quickly mounted, and within seconds they were pounding down the drive toward Dunlaggan.
Ten minutes later, they pulled up in front of the pub. It appeared the entire hamlet had gathered there.
“Here, my lady, let me help ye down,” said the butcher.
“Thank you.” She glanced around. “Quite the crowd.”
“Waitin’ to see what ye’ll do.” He leaned in to murmur. “We’re all sick of the Barrs, ye ken. But some still be fashed ye might be leavin’ us. Then we’d be in the lurch.”
Sabrina thanked him before facing the crowd. While some of the villagers seemed wary and suspicious, most looked to be quietly anxious and waiting for a sign.
“Ah, Mrs. Ferguson,” she said to the middle-aged woman who ran the small fabric and notions shop. “I’ve been meaning to chat with you. The draperies at Lochnagar are simply falling apart. May I come by your shop next week to discuss replacement materials?”
The woman blinked, then gave an eager nod. “Aye, my lady. I’ll start pulling samples.”
&nb
sp; “Thank you.” Sabrina cast a glance over the small assembly. “I intend to visit all the shops and services in Dunlaggan over the next few weeks. There is a great deal of work to be done at Lochnagar, and I’m counting on your support to accomplish it.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned and strode to the pub door. Royal reached it ahead of her.
“Well done,” he said.
“Money talks,” Ainsley added as she followed them inside.
“Let’s hope it speaks loudly to the Barr family,” Sabrina replied.
At a center table sat a brawny young man holding a cloth to his face. In his plain shirt, leather jerkin, and breeches, he looked like a local crofter. Sitting with him were Chattan and Monroe. A few other villagers were scattered about the room, most scowling at the young man.
Patty came out from behind the bar with a wet cloth in her hand. “Here, Magnus. Change it out with this one.”
The fellow gingerly pulled away the cloth he’d been holding and accepted the new one from her. “Thank ye, Patty. Yer a peach.”
Magnus had a black eye and his nose was obviously broken. Sabrina had a good idea who’d inflicted the damage.
“I’ll peach ye, ye booby.” Patty glanced at Sabrina. “Her ladyship is here. Now, ye behave yerself or I’ll break more than that nose, do ye hear?”
“Aye, Patty.”
The young man’s gaze followed the girl as she returned behind the bar.
Monroe jabbed his shoulder. “And dinna make those sheep’s eyes at my daughter. Yer nae good enough for her.”
“Och, Da. Leave him alone. He’s had enough of a beatin’ for one day,” Patty replied.
“Love is in the air,” Royal murmured.
“Maybe that’s why he decided to throw over the evil Jackie,” Ainsley replied.
“Let’s find out,” Sabrina said.
She walked over to the table and crossed her arms. “Magnus Barr, I presume.”
The young man scrambled up and bobbed his head. “Aye, my lady. Thank ye for comin’. I’m right sorry about all this.”
“As you should be. You’re very lucky that Mr. Brown vouched for you, or I’d have already turned you over to the law.”