Page 28 of Laird of Secrets
“You know my answer to that. We will get a good price for Glen Kinloch brew. Even with delivering kegs and casks to the buyers I have already contacted, there will be some left to sell to Eldin. We may be able to move all of it. A good thing.”
“Even as we brew more. Very good.”
Lucy and Jamie walked across the yard now, but the small girl turned her footsteps toward Dougal, determination on her little face and in her big brown eyes. He pointed firmly, silently, to send her toward the school. She frowned but relented, and went with Jamie.
Fergus laughed. “Lucy thinks smugglers need not learn letters and maths, but devote their time to distilling whisky and moving kegs through the hills. Reminds me of a lad I knew once,” he added.
“That lad was full thirteen when his Da died. Lucy is just six. Her time should be devoted to running with her friends to play, and now chores and studies. I told her free-traders need their education too.”
“She would make a fine smuggler, that fearless lass. No harm in it when she’s older.”
“No,” Dougal said firmly. “She will get an education, and marry well, and stay safe in whatever she chooses to do. I will see to it. And she will have naught to do with the free trade”
“You sound like your father.”
“I never fulfilled what my father wanted for me, and I regret it. I will see to it for my sister’s child.”
“But you had a fine education here at the glen school, and a couple of years at university before you left Glasgow to come home. We could not force you to go back, though we tried.”
“We could not afford it.”
“We could have found a way.”
Dougal huffed. “Funded by smuggling?”
His uncle shrugged. “Well, someday I hope you will return to your studies. Such an intelligent lad. And it was your father’s wish for you.”
“I am needed here. Fergus, I am thinking—the school session could wait a bit while we find another dominie, one who is not kin to a customs officer.” As he spoke, Dougal watched the teacher approach the school with the reverend.
“And one who will not distract the laird?” Fergus asked.
“Huh.” Dougal saw MacIan sweep a wide gesture as he spoke to Fiona MacCarran, showing her the scope of the glen. As she turned, her gaze caught Dougal’s across the breadth of the hill. He felt the tug of it.
“Hamish says we should scare her off with tales of bogles,” Fergus said.
“We will not,” Dougal said sternly.
“The last society teacher who came here thought us all Highland savages. She left quick enough. This one looks steadier. We may not frighten her off so easily.”
“I agree.”
“Though if she meets a few rascals out in the hills, she might think better of it,” Fergus said. “I can send Arthur and Mungo to visit her.”
“I would not trust those two near her.”
“Then we must behave like a flock of angels, so she will have no tales to carry to her brother.”
“We could try,” Dougal mused. “I had best go welcome her, being the laird.”
“Aye. Och, I near forgot. The school roof needs work.”
“Again? We repaired it last fall when it leaked after the rains.”
Fergus shrugged. “The place is old.”
“We need new thatch and new beams,” Dougal said.
“We need a new building,” Fergus grumbled.
