Page 19 of A Rogue in Firelight
“We must know, you see, because—well, an important gentleman enjoys your whisky and would like to meet you.”
“What nonsense is this?” he asked in a flat tone.
“It is not my place to say. You may learn more later.”
“I can hardly wait,” he drawled.
She watched him for a heartbeat, two. “The Whisky Rogues are folk heroes, did you know?”
“Not heroes, lass. We are fiction, courtesy of Sir Walter Scott. But if this important gentleman wants to send a key, clean clothing, and a horse, I might agree to meet him.”
A tiny dimple danced beside her mouth as she smiled. That whimsical little hook drew him in like a lure for a fish. “I am sure you would.”
“One favor for another.” He shrugged.
“Miss Ellison, I am coming in,” Corbie said. “Guard, open the door.”
“I must go.” Ellison Graham set down her cup and turned, nodding farewell to MacInnes and Linhope. She glanced back at Ronan. Something flickered in those silvery eyes that he could not quite read. Regret? “I am sorry, Mr. MacGregor. I wanted more time to talk.”
“Not with your watchdog growling at us. Shall I have a word with him concerning his manners?”
“Manners!” She laughed, dimple flashing, eyes sparkling. “Thank you, no. I must leave. Good day, sir.”
“Good day, Miss Graham.” All in soft Gaelic, their private conversation thrummed through him as she turned away.
The guard opened the door and she slipped through. Corbie took her arm to squire her away, even as he sent Ronan a dark glance. Then they vanished into the shadowy corridor.
Ronan turned to see Linhope and Iain watching. “What?”
“The deputy lord provost sent her?” Linhope asked. “Why?”
He shrugged. “To ask if I distill Glenbrae whisky and if I have a secret store of it. Some important fellow wants it.”
“If he could show us some favor, give it to him,” Linhope said.
“I suspect she knows little about it and wanted a bit of adventure. I sensed a spot of rebellion.”
“I like a lass with a spirited nature,” Iain said.
“Aye.” Ronan glanced toward the empty corridor. Her presence and her soft scent lingered. He breathed in, out. “If they knew where our cache is hidden, they would be quick to claim it.”
“We can do little about that from here,” Linhope muttered.
Chapter Five
“What a pityJuliet is not here to join us for supper,” Lady Strathniven said. “I so enjoy her gift at the pianoforte after a good meal.”
“She left this afternoon for the Isles to visit Deirdre.” Ellison set down her fork, satisfied after the late informal supper of barley vegetable soup, cheeses, fresh-baked rolls, and good French wine. Seeing that the others were nearly done, she rang a little silver bell to signal a maidservant that they were ready for the table to be cleared for coffee and pudding.
“I am thankful Juliet will miss the madness about to descend upon Edinburgh,” Sir Hector said. “It promises to be chaotic. My lady, when will you depart for the Highlands?”
“I am off to Strathniven tomorrow, although I will return in time for the glorious spectacle. Ellison, I hope you will come north with me. Do bring wee Balor, he is such good company! Sir Hector and Adam, you are welcome too, though you may be busy.”
“Perhaps after the king’s visit.” Sir Hector sat back as two maids entered, one removing the supper dishes, the other carrying a glass bowl containing a trifle of berries, cream, and cake, which she served in small glass bowls, then poured coffee. When both maids departed, Sir Hector cleared his throat.
“I spoke with Lady Strathniven before supper and explained our dilemma. I thought she might be of some assistance,” he said to those gathered around the table.
“Your scheme sounds intriguing,” Lady Strathniven said. “I am excited to help.”
