“Like you have.”
She stared at him. “I dinnae do that. That’s why I’m so poor. There have been nae clearances in Kinmarloch. And the clearances in Dunmore started only after my grandfather died.”
“But you have sheep.”
“Forty sheep. Barely a flock. Just enough wool to keep groats on the table, peat on the hearth.”
“Tell me about the burning of villages you mentioned.”
Her jaw clenched. There was a glimmer of something in her eye and Jack felt the same cold fear he had felt at the Battle of Lissa.
“A village would be cleared. The people sent away. But then people would return and live in their old houses. Some thought it best to burn the villages so nae houses would stand.”
“I see.”
She took a deep breath. “There is—there was a village which was half in the duchy and half in Kinmarloch. The whole village was burned by the duke’s men. My people hadnae left, hadnae been ordered to do so by me. They had a right to stay. And I dinnae know of the planned burning.”
Jack could sense where this was going and his gut twisted.
“There was a sick girl in one of the cottages.”
“Oh, my God.” He didn’t know if he meant the words as a prayer or a curse.
“She lived, but her leg was badly burned.”
Jack bowed his head for a moment. “I’m glad she lived.”
“Aye.”
“Were—were you compensated for the loss of the village?”
“Compensated?”
“Given money?”
“There is nae enough money to compensate for that rape of my land.”
“Were you offered any?”
She stood, her eyes burning into him. “Nae. And I widnae accept it. Because how can I let my people think there is a just price for their homes, their safety, their livelihoods? It widnae be right.”
“You have a great deal of pride.”
“Aye. It may be the only thing I have. But I would let it go if . . .”
“What?”
“Never ye mind. More tea, Jack Pike?”
He accepted more tea—more warm water—because it would not do, not at this moment, to make any move which reflected badly on this woman’s hospitality.
“I must discuss something with ye.”
“Yes?” He sipped his water.
“The duchy is divided by my land. The duke’s sheep are often led through Kinmarloch to get to the pasturage which is owned by the duchy on the far side. There is a way to go, through the foothills of the Benrancree mountains, but the duke’s shepherds dinnae direct the sheep that way because ’tis longer. And the passage they use through my farmers’ lands ruins what little they can grow.”
“That is a problem.”
