Hannah frowned at him. “Liam, what are ye doing? This is Laird MacBain.”
“I ken who he is,” Liam muttered sullenly. “I didnae mean… That is?—”
“Nay offense taken,” Aiden interrupted, as graciously as he could manage. No sense in stirring up bad feelings for no good reason. More flies were caught with honey than with vinegar, after all.
“I’ll be off to the distillery now,” Hannah told him quietly as they left the stable, her easy smile suddenly absent.
“I will join ye. I’ve seen what I need here,” Aiden murmured. He tried to seem non-threatening, but that didn’t stop a mother from snatching her toddler up and scampering away as they approached.
“As ye like,” Hannah said, walking alongside him with her pony at her side.
Her gaze followed the woman clutching her toddler. Any tighter a grip, and the woman would likely strangle her own child.
Hannah tutted in disapproval. “For heaven’s sake. They think ye are a far worse monster than ye are. Nae that yearea monster,” she added hastily, with a hint of a blush.
Aiden chuckled. “Nice catch, lass.”
“I do me best. It’s distilling day, so I’ll be rather busy. But if ye want to see what I do, I willnae stop ye.”
“Good.”
The two walked side by side back through the village and the cold eyes that followed them, making their way up to the distillery.
Their silence remained companionable enough, but there was a slight tension in the air from the strange welcome. Aiden focused on walking, head up, shoulders straight. It would do no good to show any sort of discomfort. People could be like wolves, eager to scent out uncertainty. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Hannah glowering at an old man who stared at him in horror.
I wonder whether she would be one of the people avoiding me if I werenae helping her sister.
That wasn’t a useful thought, so he firmly put it aside. He kept his head even more on a swivel now that he’d received such an icy welcome. Now that he knew how angry the villagers were, he didn’t want to catch a sword to the back by not being vigilant.
No, that was unlikely to happen. Never once had he been surprised by an attacker. Still, killing a villager in front of his neighbors was not a good way to convince them that he was a kind laird and not a threat to them. One might argue that it would achieve the opposite.
And worse than that, the girl at his side might be harmed simply for being in his company. He couldn’t let that happen.
Fortunately, they made it to the distillery without an incident.
Hannah stopped to tuck her pony in the stable with his mare. Seeing the size difference between the two made Aiden chuckle, and she glanced up at him quickly and smiled back.
They shared a brief moment of levity at the absolutely comical sight of her small pony standing beside his warhorse. Even the animals seemed in on the joke, sizing one another up.
“Is that what we look like when we’re together?” Hannah mused aloud.
He shot her a surprised look and barked a laugh. “Lord, I hope nae, lass.”
She shook her head, grinning.
The tension bled from his shoulders at that smile, and he patted his mare before turning to follow her to the nearby distillery.
Hannah led the way through the front door and instantly frowned at the sound coming from the large copper pot in the center of the room.
“The fire’s too hot under the still, boys. Bank it,” she ordered, crossing her arms. “Ye can hear it in the way it’s sputtering. Samuel, Thomas, can ye hear the sputter?”
“Aye,” said Samuel, the younger of the two.
Aiden wasn’t sure if they were brothers, as the two shared tawny hair and big green eyes. Their matching breeches and tunics didn’t help either.
“Nay, ye cannae,” snapped Thomas, the older. “Daenae lie.”
“Can too!” Samuel retorted and looked about ready to smack him.
