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“I admit to nothing except for concern that the ladies apparently can’t step foot outside the house without protection.”
Graeme shook his head. “I’m thinking Jeannie is the biggest worry. That girl seems like an accident waiting to happen. And I cannot tell you how thrilled I am to be the one now tasked with keeping her out of trouble for the next three months.”
“Sorry, old man, but it wasn’t my idea,” Grant replied with a sympathetic grimace.
Graeme frowned at the small peat fire simmering in the grate. “I know. It’s just that I’m up to my ears with a new baby, a new distillery, and a verynotnew estate to get back in order. Poor Sabrina is also run off her feet, although she puts a good face on it.”
“From what I can tell, you’ve done a bang-up job on the estate. It’s looking miles better than it was the last time I was here.” Grant held up his glass. “And you’re clearly having success with this, too.”
“Who knew that a motley band of former smugglers could produce such an excellent product?”
That was yet another amusing irony of his twin’s life. Lochnagar Distilleries had grown out of a local smuggling ring Graeme had broken up last year. The smugglers had even kidnapped him at one point. That’s when Graeme had met Magnus Barr. Magnus had never been comfortable with a life of crime and had leapt at Graeme’s offer to open a legal operation, made possible by recent changes to the law. As it so happened, the former smuggler was already crafting some of the finest whisky in the Highlands.
With Nick helping to secure the appropriate licenses, Lochnagar Distilleries was well on its way to becoming a grand success.
“Apparentlyyouknew,” Grant said. “But now it appears that someone is throwing a spanner into the works.”
“Unfortunately true.”
“You obviously don’t want to talk about it in front of the ladies or Angus.”
Truthfully, Grant had not put up much of a fight when his brother suggested they repair to his study on the pretense of discussing distillery business. He’d made a complete fool of himself over Kathleen by snapping at the vicar, for one thing. It was becoming embarrassingly obvious that his Irish lass was turning him into an addlepated moron.
“And here I thought I was being so subtle,” Graeme joked.
“The great spy is losing his touch, I’m afraid. Must be all the wedded bliss.”
“Och, Sabrina keeps me on my toes, ye ken.” Then he winked at Grant. “And keeps me up—”
Grant held up a hand. “Don’t. Bad enough I have to put up with all the happy Kendrick couples making sheep’s eyes back in Glasgow. Revolting, it is.”
“Perhaps you need a bit of happy coupling yourself, eh lad? It’s the cure for what ails, ye ken.”
“I am happy to report that I am in fine health. Now, shall we get on to discussingyourproblem, before I am forced to bash you in the noggin?”
“Message received. But the thing is . . .” Graeme grimaced. “I do actually need your help, brother. The situation around here is not good.”
Grant sighed. “More than just a bit of bad luck that we ran into highwaymen, I take it?”
“Why do you think I told Brown to carry a pistol?”
“That was probably a mistake. He hasn’t a clue how to use the damn thing.”
“Then he’d better learn.”
Grant’s twin was the most capable and fearless person he knew, and the one least likely to raise the alarm. “Stop talking in riddles, lad. What’s going on?”
“What’s going on is ... well, I suppose a crime spree is the best way to describe it.”
“In sleepy, little Dunlaggan?”
The local village was more of a hamlet, and peaceful. Besides Lochnagar, there were only a few other estates in the vicinity, and most were parceled out to tenant farmers or crofters. The quiet district, tucked away in a corner of the Highlands, was not a place where one expected crime sprees.
“And not related to the smuggling gang you broke up last year?” Grant added.
“Not at all. Jackie Barr, the gang leader, is sitting in prison in Edinburgh. The other members of the Barr family were happy to escape that life and are now gainfully employed as crofters or workers at the distillery. A few of them have even been victimized lately.”
“What sort of crimes are we talking about?”
