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“Oy, dinna be draggin’ that cask,” Jackie barked. “Pick it up, ye lazy oaf.”
Dickie bristled. “I ain’t lazy, Jackie. My arms are gettin’ tired.”
“I’ll make ’em more than tired if ye break a cask.”
Graeme sat there, stunned into silence. For a month, he’d been driving himself crazy over an assassination rumor that had turned out to be a damn joke. No wonder it had proved so elusive.
He throttled back the urge to bang his head on the table. “The threat to Musgrave wasn’t a lark, though.”
Jackie shrugged. “If we scared him good and proper, we figured he’d leave us alone. Especially after Francis skived off.”
Graeme narrowed his gaze. “You bloody wellshotat Lady Sabrina.”
“I wasna tryin’ to hit her,” Magnus earnestly said. “I’d never shoot a woman.”
“But the silly bitch must be too stupid to get scared,” Jackie said with disgust.
Once he was free, Graeme would take a great deal of satisfaction in pummeling Jackie into the dirt.
“And what about the bed?” he asked. “How’d you pull that off?”
Jackie frowned. “What bed?”
“The bed in Lady Sabrina’s room. The wooden canopy collapsed onto it.”
Magnus and Dickie exchanged confused looks.
“I dinna ken what ye be talkin’ about,” Jackie said.
If this situation weren’t so horribly deranged, Graeme would have laughed. Sabrina was right. It had been wood rot, after all.
“So, your plan was to scare Musgrave, terrorize the locals into silence, and continue your business on Lochnagar lands.”
“Aye, that’s about the size of it,” Jackie smugly replied.
“Far be it from me to criticize,” Graeme said, “but that is a remarkably stupid plan.”
Magnus nodded. “My mam didna like the plan one bit, ye ken.”
“Shut up about yer mam,” Jackie snarled, “or I’ll bash yer stupid face.”
Graeme leaned across the table, ignoring his throbbing hands. “Look, I’ve done a bit of illegal distilling myself. But you’ve been terrorizing innocent people and risking lives. It has to stop.”
“Musgrave threw us off our lands and ruined our business,” Jackie retorted. “What the hell else were we supposed to do?”
“Go legitimate. The British government is starting to legalize operations as big as yours. In fact, they’re encouraging Highlanders to obtain licenses for legal breweries.”
Dickie dropped a cask. “What?”
“Dinna be dropping the goods,” Jackie roared.
Dickie and Magnus ignored him.
“Ye mean we can do this, legal-like?” Magnus asked in a disbelieving tone.
“Yes.”
“Bollocks,” Jackie spat out. “Dinna believe him, lads.”
