The newcomer laughed and held his hands up. “Sorry, sorry. I was just eager to see ye.” His attention shifted to Aiden, and his eyes widened. He glanced at Hannah and then back at him. “Ah… good morrow, me Laird.”
Aiden gave a cordial nod in greeting.
“This is Duncan,” Hannah introduced.
Aiden couldn’t help smirking. “I inferred from the scolding ye just gave him.”
The young man looked uncomfortable for a moment, glancing at Hannah as if to see if she looked distressed. When she blinked back at him calmly, he took his cue and made his way over to her. “What am I doing today?”
“Other than irritating me?” Hannah quipped, raising an eyebrow. “Help the boys lay out the next round of mash to dry. They need stronger arms to carry more faster.”
Duncan chuckled. “Just a workhorse to ye, aye?”
“Of course nae.” Hannah rested a hand against his chest. “Ye’re also me best friend. Which is why I can use ye as a workhorse. Now, get to it. Things to do.”
Duncan grinned and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, squeezing. “Well, as long as ye hold me in such high esteem, I suppose I cannae say nay.”
“Ye ken ye’re just afraid of me,” Hannah teased.
Aiden felt something deep in his chest flutter cold and then hot. He crossed his arms tightly and tried to hold it back, but the sight of the young man with his arm around her and the way she’d touched his chest with such casual familiarity bothered him deeply.
Why am I imagining slashing the man’s neck? This isnae a bloody battle. Get a fucking grip on yerself, man. He’s a friend, even if he does look as though he’d been dragged through ahedge backward and smacked around the head a couple of times. Ugly son of a— Alright. That’s enough.
Then Hannah beamed up at him, and Aiden clearly imagined himself stepping forward and slamming a closed fist into Duncan’s cheekbone. He could almost feelthe crunch of bones beneath his knuckles.
He surged forward and cleared his throat. They both looked up from their discussion, and he frowned at them despite himself. They looked too comfortable, and it made him feel strange, though he had no right to.
Heat bubbled in his gut, a coiling need plunging up and down his spine. The all-too-familiar sensation of desire mingled with a dark rage at the back of his mind, a desperate longing to shove Duncan away and gather Hannah into his arms.
“I’ve seen what I need.” His voice came out rougher than he had intended, and he coughed. “I’ll send word for healers to attend the village, and see to it that more of the—Angel?”
“Angelica,” Hannah corrected.
“Angelica.” He nodded. “I’ll see to it that more is provided.”
“Thank ye.” She smiled at him. He didn’t return the gesture.
I wonder if Duncan is as mad with jealousy now as I was seconds ago. Maybe he’s imagining plunging a dagger into me chest, or punching mein the face.
He’s probably a terrible fighter.
“Also, I nearly forgot,” he added briskly. “Yer next delivery will be to MacBain Castle, nae Calder Castle.”
Hannah blinked, scuttling toward him. “What? Why?”
He clenched his jaw. “Just do as ye’re told.”
With that, he turned on his heel and left the distillery before she could respond, letting the door thud shut behind him.
Duncan looked at Hannah after Aiden stormed out of the distillery, raising an eyebrow with interest. “The Laird seemed rather uncomfortable here… and unhappy upon his exit.”
Hannah stared in the direction Aiden had gone.
He was acting strange, I ken it. But why?
“He was just curious to see how his whiskey was made. Frankly, I’m nae sure how much he understood of the process, but I didnae ken how much he wanted to ken and chose nae to borehim with a long tale.” She shrugged, glancing down at the filling pot and calling for one of the boys to fetch her another one.
“What was he talking about? MacBain Castle? What brought him here in the first place?” Duncan searched her face.
