Page 52 of A Rogue in Moonlight
Eldin shrugged. “Is the revenue paid?”
“What do you think?”
“I see. Too good for the government, I think. Do they even know it exists? Ah, your silence answers that. How many casks?”
“Seven are available.” Dougal had more, but would not let on.
Eldin sat back. “I will think about it.”
“Think all you like,” Dougal said. “Within the month, it will be gone.”
“To England?” Eldin asked quickly.
“There are some lively markets for good Highland whisky.”
“The blight in the French vineyards has reduced the amount of wine a man can obtain there,” Eldin agreed. “Grain whiskies made in England and Lowland Scotland can be poor specimens indeed, compared to Highland malt whisky. But a Highland whisky that is hand nurtured and aged, stored twelve years and never found by the revenue—that is rare stuff.”
“Thus the price,” Dougal said.
Eldin nodded, played with the brim of his hat, looked at Dougal. “And Miss MacCarran, my cousin? I assume you have met her? How does my fair Fiona?”
“Well enough.” Dougal was startled. What the devil? “We have met on occasion.” Indeed. “She is doing a fine job with her students.”
“I trust she is busy with the teaching.”
“Very dedicated to her work.”
“When she is not teaching, does she wander the hills?”
An odd question. Dougal narrowed his eyes. “She collects rocks and stones, from what I understand. Sometimes, she walks the hills. It is safe,” he added. He should tell the girl to lob a couple of rocks at her cousin if he came near.
“Has she asked you about fairies, Mr. MacGregor?”
Dougal did not blink. “She is interested in local legends, like many visitors to the Highlands.” He wondered where these questions were going and why.
“Tell her nothing. If you know fairy legends, do not share them with her.”
“There is no harm in the tales. We have many legends.”
“Be wary, nonetheless,” Eldin said. “Do you have a personal fortune, sir?”
Dougal bristled. “That is no concern of yours, Lord Eldin.”
“Allow me to caution you. If you have any wealth, play the pauper should my cousin ask about it.”
“What?” Dougal returned sharply.
“Fiona MacCarran has reasons beyond teaching to come to the glen. She has a particular interest in fairy matters, stories of fairy gold and such. I confide in you, sir, to warn you,” he said low. “My cousin is determined to marry a wealthy Highland man.”
A muscle pumped in his jaw. The man had outrageous nerve and was all but insulting the girl. Dougal fisted a hand under the table. “After the Clearances and Culloden, wealthy Scotsmen are rareenough,” he drawled.
Eldin laughed. “Regardless, she has her mind set on this. Her family has little fortune of its own, and a wealthy husband is a solution for them.”
He wanted to throttle the man. “You speak unkindly of your kinswoman.”
Eldin shrugged. “A warning. Advice against a fortune hunter.”
“I possess no fortune, and I do not think she is hunting. Nor am I interested.”
