Only a broken foot and ankle from a fall down the stairs had slowed Violet down — if what she’d seen in the past two months could be considered slow. Vi had more of a social life than Aila ever dreamed of having. She cringed at the thought of what would come in the months ahead when Violet was freed from her final shackle. Thus far in their acquaintance, she’d learned that book clubs didn’t seem to involve books or reading and that a senior dance class could be called something else entirely when the seniors weren’t the ones doing the dancing, but rather watching men do it…half naked…on stages and in bars.
Having the bobbies call her to pick up a gaggle of octogenarians for disorderly behavior had been the highlight of Aila’s year. On one hand, she could only hope she had such excitement in her life when she was that age. On the other, she cringed at what Vi’s “normal” would entail.
Keeping her out of trouble had become a full-time job.
More unintelligible shouts punctuated by vividly recognizable profanities rang from within the walls of the “wake.”
“No’ a rave, eh?” Aila murmured under her breath. “Sounds like a party to me.”
As if to prove the point, amid more yelling a window broke and spewed glass onto the walk at their feet. A pewter tankard rattled to a stop a few feet away.
“Hmm,” was Violet’s only reaction.
“Hmm, what?”
“I cannot believe they’d go at it already,” the old woman muttered in disgust. “Bessie’s hardly got both feet in the grave! Why, she’s not even capable of rolling over in it yet!”
“Go at what?” Aila asked, her curiosity roused another notch.
“Bessie would never let any of her greedy clansmen rip up her floorboards while she was alive,” Violet said as if that explained everything. “Her father and grandmother before her were the same way. Her family’s been in that house for more than two hundred years. Poor Bessie with no bairn left to protect the place now that she’s gone. Those who’ve been itching for a chance to find it cannot even wait until her body is cold.”
“Find what?”
Violet cast her an impatient glance. “The treasure. Haven’t you been listening, dear?”
“Aye, to a lot a rubbish,” Aila shot back. “What sort of treasure? And why would anyone be daft enough to assume it’s still there two centuries later?”
“Clever lass.” Violet nodded her approval. “Thinking with a logical mind rather than a greedy heart. Why would it still be there, indeed.”
More shouting and the cottage seemed to shudder from the force of whatever caused thethudthat sent the birds in nearby trees into flight. This mythical treasure really must be something to justify anyone getting so worked up over it. Prying up floorboards? Really?
“For argument’s sake, what kind of treasure are we talking about?”
The older woman shrugged. “Bessie never knew, though she felt certain someone would have found it by now if it were in her home. That’s why she was adamant no one search for it. According to her family lore, there had been something. Something priceless, she said. A gift given to her ancestor by the Duke of Argyll himself.”
“The same duke whose descendants live in that castle outside of town?” Aila clarified.
While her travel companion had visited the village and her old friend dozens of times, Aila had never set foot in this region of her native land. A lass from the Orkneys didn’t have much reason to frequent wee towns in the middle of nowhere. To rectify that, Violet planned for them to tour Inveraray Castle following the wake and to spend the night in one of the local inns rather than drive straight back to Leith after the wake.
“The very same.” Violet nodded. “A reward of some sort after the 9th Earl of Argyll was granted the title of the first duke.”
“A reward for what?”
“It’s been three hundred years. Who knows?”
They both looked at the cottage, quiet for the moment.
“A smart ancestor would have melted down whatever the duke gave them and spent it long ago,” Aila surmised.
“As I said, you’re a clever lass.”
“If they didn’t, though….” Aila lifted her shoulder and let it drop with a grin. “It would make for one undeniably wicked tease to their future generations.”
“That it would,” Violet agreed with a smile.
The melee inside kicked into high gear once more with a string of expressive profanity that made even Aila, no stranger to vulgarity — mostly from her own lips — cringe.
Violet merely shook her head. “I think I’ll be needing that drink after all. Would you mind fetching a bottle of something enticing enough to bring everyone involved in this nonsense to heel?”
