Page 44 of Highland Renegade
She bit back a retort, silently cursing the stupidity of some men. “When my husband was…indisposed, I had no choice but to look into our business matters. I did not find it that difficult to understand profit and loss.” The Lord knew she’d learned all about loss—and debt—in abundance. Thankfully, Albert had not favored White’s, so perhaps the procurator was not aware of how badly off the earldom had been.
“Even so, I prefer to work with the owner of the distillery. It makes things simpler,” Mr. Everard said.
“It certainly does,” Emily agreed. “As it happens, I am the owner.” She would have laughed at the look of bafflement on his face except for the fact that Donovan was frowning and Broderick scowling.
“I was told the owners were Murrays,” he said.
“We are,” Broderick said. “My brother took over the business more than thirty years ago and I joined him two decades past. Ye can count on us.”
Mr. Everard looked relieved. “Good. Then that is settled.”
“Actually…” Emily somehow managed to keep her voice calm. “It is not settled. I have been given title, in my own right, to Strae Castle and its holdings. And, while I agree that the Murrays may see to the daily managing of the distillery, I will be involved with negotiations, as well as any legal matters that arise.” Ignoring the piqued expressions on Donovan’s and Broderick’s faces, as well as the annoyed look on the procurator’s, she set down her glass. “If you do not wish to work with me, I am sure there are several other gentlemen’s clubs in London that would be glad to offer White’s some competition.”
For a moment there was silence. Emily kept her expression impassive, hoping she hadn’t gone too far. She had no idea whether any other London clubs would be willing to work with a woman, either, but she did know that, if she wasn’t firm, she wouldn’t be taken seriously. And she wasn’t about to let that happen.
Finally, Mr. Everard nodded. “It is most unusual, but I agree to your terms.”
Inwardly, Emily wanted to leap and shout with joy. She had won a battle, if not the war. Instead, she offered a slight smile. “I think you will discover you have made a good decision.” She glanced at Broderick and Donovan. “I will count on your help, since your expertise will be invaluable.” She picked up the bottle that Hamish had left and began to pour. “Shall we have another toast? To success?”
As they drank, she was confident the endeavor would work. She just hoped Donovan and Broderick saw it that way as well.
…
The procurator left the following morning. The Murray brothers followed him out of the Great Hall when he was through breaking his fast, leaving Emily behind. She had really wanted to follow his uncles out to ensure there were no “private” arrangements being made with Mr. Everard, but Ian hadn’t come in until very late last night and this morning he’d been irate. If it had to do with her—and it probably did—she needed to find out what it was before he left again for the day. Although Devon had gone, the other three brothers still remained in the room, along with a few older men who weren’t working in the fields, so she would have to wait. A few minutes later she heard Broderick and Donovan return. Whatever had transpired had certainly not taken long. After what seemed like an endless amount of time finishing their plates, Carr, Rory, and Alasdair took their leave as did the others. She looked across the table at Ian.
“Are you not happy with the agreement that was reached?”
He put down the piece of toast he was about to bite. “I have nae seen the contract, but if my uncles thought it solid—”
“They did.” That much was true, at least. After a certain amount of haggling, they had agreed that the money offered was acceptable. “We will turn a tidy profit.”
“Even so, it would be better if ye let Broderick and Donovan handle everything.”
Emily bristled.What is it with men?“I am perfectly capable of understanding the business.”
“I didna say ye could nae understand it.” Ian sighed. “The clansmen doona want ye to be involved.”
She stared at him. “How would they even know?”
“This isna London, but that doesna mean people doona gossip. Besides, ye were seen at the distillery several times.”
“That does not mean anything.”
“Ye were probably overheard talking to my uncles.” Ian shrugged. “However the news got out, it did. I spent hours last night trying to convince the clansmen that the local supply of whisky wouldna be interrupted because we would be shipping to London.”
So that’s why he had not come home. He’d been putting out the proverbial fires…or trying to contain them, at least. “So you are not angry with me?”
He shook his head. “Nae angry. I just think ’twould be better if ye let my uncles handle this.”
She raised her eyes heavenward in exasperation. “You do not think me capable?”
A corner of his mouth quirked. “I have nae doubt ye are.”
“Then why should I not be involved with the business?”
“Because ye have been here a little over a month, and ye are English.” He held up a hand before she could protest. “Ye canna help that, but many older Scots remember Culloden, nae to mentionMacGregorsstill have good reason nae to trust the English.”
She couldn’t argue the point. “I understand that, but if your kinspeople do not see me about, or interact with me, they will never learn to trust that I am not against them.”
