Page 107 of Seduced By the Reckless Highlanders
Alan Darroch looked at the beautiful young sister of the odious Jamie Darroch and wondered how they could possibly have come from the same family.
They chatted amiably for a while before Alan had to leave, but he insisted that he was in too much of a hurry to stay for lunch. However, Minna would not hear of him going without some sustenance, so she packed some food for his ride back to Dundee.
“If I have to send for the chief then I will,” he said. “But I would rather it did not come to that. He has better things to do than waste his time on your brother. Your father was a renegade too. His greed is how all this business started - I hope I am not offending you, Mistress.”
“Not at all,” Minna stated firmly. “There is a way to fix this. We just have to find it. Let us keep in touch, and thank you for coming. It is good to know that someone cares.”
Alan bowed, then smiled at her. “I thought that I had had a wasted journey, Mistress, but since we met and talked, I realize that one very good thing came out of it. I met you, and you have given me hope. Thank you.”
“Thank you too, sir,” she answered. “Have a safe journey home.”
Minna watched him as he rode away. What a kind, straightforward and intelligent man he was. If only her brother were more like him!
CHAPTER 9
Jamie was angrier than he had ever been in his life before, and it was all due, as usual, to his sister. When he arrived back at the castle after his ride, already furious, the cook, Emily Morrison, had come to see him as he was walking back to his study.
“M’Laird!” she called, as she strode towards him, her face grim.
Jamie groaned. More women. More complaints. More trouble. “Yes, Emily?” he asked with a sigh. He was tired, and once more longing for his whisky.
“M’Laird, did ye know your sister has been stealing food fae the stores in the kitchen an’ giein’ it tae the villagers?” she asked him. She folded her arms and stood in front of him. “One o’ the lassies saw her comin’ back in the wee hours o’ the mornin’.”
Jamie knew that the cook hated his sister, but he also knew she was telling the truth, because he had just come back from Cairndene, and he knew Minna had been there, because he saw her hand in everything.
“I did not, Emily, but now that I do, I will see to it,” he growled. “Thank you.”
Emily stood back, disappointed. She had hoped for a little more thanks, even a reward. Still, she had landed Minna in a mess she could not easily get out of, and it made her feel very, very good. She was humming a little tune as she went back to the kitchen, smug and satisfied.
Jamie’s first view of Cairndene had not been impressive. It was no more than a dusty street with perhaps twenty houses, each with its own barn, arranged on either side, and a communal well in the middle. The houses were in a poor state, with all of them in need of repairs to the thatch on their roofs. The walls were crumbling on some of them, and the little church that had stood at the end of the street for years was now no more than a ruin, having been neglected for many years. The villagers were now obliged to have their services in the open air, or squeeze into the Minister’s house.
As he rode on he saw some children playing with a makeshift ball in the street, but as soon as they saw him they scattered and disappeared into their houses. Jamie wondered if they knew who he was. It was true that the last time he had been in the village was five years before, but surely someone would remember him? It was not every day that a well-dressed man on a horse came though such a small place.
He dismounted and began to look around, and that was when a very old woman came out to talk to him. She was small, very wrinkled, and appeared to have sprung up out of nowhere, but her blue eyes were sharply intelligent as she assessed him.
Although he was several dozen steps higher on the social ladder, Jamie had the uncomfortable feeling that he had just done something wrong and she was trying to decide on a suitablepunishment for his wrongdoing. She reminded him of his Grandmother, a very stern old lady and a strict disciplinarian.
“M’Laird,” she greeted him, inclining her head in respect. “We were no’ expectin’ ye. What brings ye by today?”
“I came to see how you were faring,” he replied, but as he looked around he could not keep the disdain out of his voice.
By this time many of the other villagers were emerging from their houses, curious to see their Laird after a long time.
“As ye can see, M’Laird, no’ too well,” the old woman said sadly. “We need a bit o’ help.”
“I hear my sister Minna comes to see you,” Jamie said airily, still looking around suspiciously. “Is that true?”
At the mention of her name, he saw a change come over them. Everyone suddenly looked happier.
“Aye, she is a very kind woman,” the old lady said. “There is no’ much she can dae for us, though. She has nae power, but she sometimes brings some fruit for the wee ones if she can, an’ she gives us her old clothes.”
All this was true, although Jamie was a liar who could spot another liar. This old woman was very good. She was telling him half truths, since he suspected that Minna was doing more than bringing a few apples and rags.
“Does she not bring anything else?” he asked pointedly, raising his eyebrows.
There was suddenly a deep silence, before Senga Smith, the old woman, spoke up again. “M’Laird, how could she dae that? You have a’ the power an’ the money. We need help an’ you are the only one who can gie it tae us. Can ye no’ let us have a wee bit o’ your extra grain?”
“Why do you not have any of your own?” Jamie asked harshly. “You and the rest of my tenants are farmers, are you not? Grow your own crops.”
