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“Word of a Highlander and word of a Kendrick,” Graeme said. “Parliament is looking to put an end to the smuggling,andthey know there’s a demand for a higher quality brew. Everyone knows that means Highland whisky, made by Highlanders.”
Graeme was all in favor of the government’s new direction. The smuggling trade would always find a way around the law. It was much better to bring the illegal distilleries into the fold, an elegant solution for everyone involved.
“Coo,” breathed Dickie. “Wouldna that be somethin’?”
“In fact, I suspect Lady Sabrina would be willing to partner with you.”
If not, Graeme would. After all, he was already familiar with the business model.
“If ye think I’ll be doin’ business with some bleedin’Sassenach, yer out of yer bleedin’ mind,” Jackie sneered.
Magnus still looked hopeful. “But my mam—”
Jackie pounded the table, rattling the glassware. “If ye dinna shut up about yer mam, I’ll toss her into the bloody loch.”
Magnus looked shocked. “Jackie, she’s yer auntie!”
“Och, shut yer trap.” Jackie glared at Graeme. “I ain’t stupid, ye ken. Musgrave willna be workin’ with the likes of me. He’ll see me hanged first.”
Likely true, since Jackie had threatened Sabrina. To Musgrave, that would constitute a hanging offense.
But Magnus and Dickie were clearly harmless and eager for a way out.
Divide and conquer.
Graeme shrugged. “You have a legal and profitable way out of this mess, but if you want to toss that chance aside, it’s your choice.”
“Yer damn right it is.”
Dickie breathed out a sad sigh. Magnus now looked both morose and swollen.
“So, what’s the plan?” Graeme asked. “You’ve got to know you’re done here.”
“Aye, this is our last run.” Jackie looked thoughtful, but then suddenly flashed an evil grin. “But I gots a new plan, thanks to you. And it’s a good one.”
He shoved to his feet. “Dinna ye worry, lads,” he said to his kin. “I’ll be gettin’ us a good haul, and then we’ll be shakin’ the dirt of the Highlands from our boots.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sabrina had been pacing the carpet in the drawing room for the last half hour. By now she knew every faded line and squiggle in the Persian design.
“Come have a dram,” Ainsley said from the chaise, where she was working on her needlepoint. “It’ll calm your nerves.”
“You said that when I had my first dram. It didn’t work.” Sabrina had no intention of getting tipsy when Graeme might be in trouble and needing her help. “He should have returned at least a half hour ago to change for dinner. But no one has seen him since that stupid fight.”
“We’re keeping country dinner hours, remember? He likely just lost track of time.”
After the horrid scene at breakfast, Sabrina had stormed up to her bedroom and had to storm right out again, since the servants were still cleaning up the mess. By the time she’d retreated to the garden and done a bit more stalking around the overgrown paths, she’d begun to feel entirely foolish about her tantrum.
The fact that Graeme had acted like an idiot didn’t excuse the silly things she’d said. This soon-to-be-marriage business was certainly turning out to be complicated.
“He’s obviously off looking for various Barrs and other villainous types,” Ainsley said. “Kendricks hate standing still when there’s a problem. They’d rather run off half-cocked than sit and have a sensible discussion.”
Sabrina sighed and dropped into the closest chair. “I know I’m acting silly.”
“You’re acting like a woman in love, and Graeme is acting like a man in love. It takes some getting used to.”
“But what if he is in trouble?”
