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Sabrina frowned. “I saw the Barr name in the estate records. They had been tenants for at least two centuries.”
“Yes, and exceedingly respectable farmers in the older generations. That apparently changed when your grandfather died. With Hugo’s assistance, the younger Barrs formed an illegal partnership that ran successfully for several years.”
“And no one tried to stop it?”
He shrugged. “As long as the rents were coming in and the estate was producing revenue, I suppose no one cared.”
“What about the authorities?”
“Illegal distilleries in the Highlands are hardly uncommon, I’m sorry to say.”
She thought of Graeme and his brother. “So I have come to understand.”
“Circumstances only changed when Mr. Francis was brought in to step up the Clearances. The Barrs were one of the first families to be evicted.” The vicar grimaced. “To say they were unhappy is a vast understatement.”
“Does anyone know where the Barrs are now?”
“If some do know, they’re not telling me.”
She blinked. “They don’t trust you?”
“It’s not that. Some of the locals are afraid of the Barrs. Afraid of what they’re capable of doing if anyone talks. Others simply feel loyal to the old Highland ways. Under the circumstances, it’s hard for them to know who to ask for help.”
Sabrina stood. “I can help, so perhaps they’ll talk to me.”
Mr. Brown rose with her. “I hope so. These are difficult times for Dunlaggan and Lochnagar.”
“Thank you, sir. You’ve been incredibly helpful.”
The vicar bowed. “Whatever I can do, please do not hesitate to ask.”
She tilted her head. “Actually, there is something you can do.”
“Name it.”
“You can escort me to the pub and introduce me to the locals.”
His eyebrows shot up in comical surprise. “Uh, you wish to go to the pub?”
“I certainly do.”
* * *
No luck at the vicar’s house, which was incredibly annoying. The blasted man wasn’t home, and the housekeeper hadn’t a clue where he was.
Annoyed was understating the case. Graeme was skating on the edge of panic. He couldn’t believe Sabrina had disobeyed his instructions and gone out by herself.
He’d given Ainsley an earful about that, but she’d simply yelled right back at him. Fortunately, his sister-in-law had climbed down from her high horse long enough to tell him where Sabrina had gone and why.
Graeme needed to keep better track of the lass, apparently every bloody moment of the day and night.
Night watch would be fun.
He ignored his moronic brain and trotted his horse back through the hamlet, slowing as he approached the Deer and Hound, the only pub in town. He’d stopped in a few times since their arrival and had been met with a wall of silence and suspicion. Today probably wouldn’t be any better, but at least someone might have spotted the vicar, with or without Sabrina. Graeme only hoped the two of them weren’t wandering about the countryside, looking for clues. Sabrina clearly thought of herself as something of an investigator. While there was no doubt the lass was sharp as a pin, amateurs always caused trouble.
Sabrina had a knack for causing trouble without even trying.
Graeme dismounted in front of the pub. As usual, an ancient lounged out front, smoking a pipe. There were always one or two of the old boys stationed there, keeping an eye on the street. Graeme rather imagined they did it in shifts, because he’d never once passed by without falling under the scrutiny of one of the local Methuselahs. The results of their perusals were invariably disapproval.
