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Jamie shrugged, his mouth flattening into a stubborn line. Jo knew the proper thing would be for her to take Jamie’s hand, apologise and leave. Instead she went to the window to inspect the beasts in the garden. They were larger, also constructed from driftwood and stones. And they were wondrous.
‘Is that a lion?’ she asked, painfully aware of the absurdity of her question.
‘Angus, take Jamie to the summer parlour. I will be along presently.’
Jo’s confusion narrowed into panic—she did not want to be alone with Benneit Lochmore. Not until she found her footing and chased off this strange rawness. It did not help that Benneit’s surface calm shattered the moment the door closed.
‘I do not believe I authorised your taking Jamie out of the castle grounds.’
She had no defence, but his anger and her confusion made her dig in her heels.
‘I do not believe you did, Your Grace.’
‘Don’t play prim governess with me, Mrs Langdale. You are at fault here.’
‘So? Dismiss me. He told me we were going to the village. I had no idea he would come here, or even what here is. I apologise if we have incommoded you, but if all you have to say is that I am at fault you are welcome to do so and then you may go to the devil, because you are just as much at fault. Would it really have cost you so much to come say goodnight to your son once during the last few days rather than leave us to cope with his loneliness?’
‘I have been occupied...’
‘Evidently.’ She sniffed in disdain and he growled—there was no other name for that low rumble of frustration.
‘What the devil is that supposed to mean?’
‘Nothing, Your Grace. Now we should return to the castle. Jamie will be hungry.’
‘Angus will feed him. Sit down!’
She was so surprised by the bark she sat.
‘Since I was born, half the people on Lochmore land were forced out in clearances to make way for sheep and cattle and kelp kilns. My grandfather and father paid them a pittance to go to the Carolinas or to Canada and kept those that stayed quiet by encouraging them to build illegal whisky stills like everyone else in the Highlands. We made a king’s ransom off wool and beef during the war, but then my father came to believe all credit for this success was his alone, so when Napoleon escaped from Elba he decided we were in for another profitable stretch of war and bet Jamie’s future on that eventuality. While everyone was delighted Waterloo put an end to another decade of war, my father realised he had lost half of all he had gained in years. If he hadn’t suffered a stroke, I might not have been able to prevent him from engaging in another clearance.
‘As it was, I spent the last two years trying to ensure Jamie does not inherit an encumbered estate with a justifiably resentful populace. Now I have an opportunity to do something that could not only keep us above water, but create new work and hope. And for that I need the McCrieffs’ support and some peace and quiet while I convince people who have better things to do with their funds that a large distillery in a remote corner of the Highlands is not some mad gamble, but a serious commercial concern that can turn a profit. So I beg your pardon if I am a little distracted with trying to secure my son’s future and do not have time to indulge your snide remarks and Jamie’s tantrums, Mrs Langdale.’
Jo felt about two inches high. No wonder he had looked so worn and worried. She thought of the castle running on a minimum of staff...his hesitation to hire someone to help McCreary. Her contrition cleared away the strange fog that had possessed her.
‘I’m sorry, Your Grace. I did not mean to add to your burdens. I told you I can go back to England, there is no need...’
His stern look faded in a sudden smile.
‘We are not in such dire straits—wool and kelp are still profitable and we’ve contained the worst of the damage my father wrought so we are no longer in debt, which is more than can be said for most of the clans. The McCrieffs aren’t looking to marry into the Lochmores out of affection, believe me. But until I am certain we can go forward with the distillery I do not wish to create expectations I might not be able to satisfy. I want everything in place before I speak—the location, the plans, the funding and, unfortunately, the consent of the McCrieffs.’ He hesitated. ‘That is particularly critical, even more than I thought at first. The engineers I brought to the village confirmed my fear we need more fresh water than our own loch and the burn can provide and that means we depend on Lord Aberwyld’s goodwill.’
