The cask for her father’s special whiskey, the one she had let sit for a year before she could bring herself to touch it, sat in the corner of the hearth room. Hannah popped the seal and examined it. It was lower than last time, the angels taking their share.
She picked up one of the expensive glass bottles and ladled the whiskey carefully into it, adding the herbs for the infusion. After closing the cask back up, she corked the bottle and placed it in the cupboard to rest for the next few days.
Two more weeks, she told herself. Initially, that had been a prayer, a reminder that she didn’t have to see the intimidating man who commanded their land forever. That she would be able to hand him that last bottle, cut some more angelica root, and walk away.
Now, it was beginning to feel a bit disappointing. Though she refused to admit that to herself. Like watching the hours fade away on a restful Sabbath afternoon, knowing too soon the sun would rise on another workday.
Violet had been watching her work from the table, her chin resting on her hands. “Do ye think Da would like what ye have done with the whiskey he left so far?” she asked thoughtfully.
“Using it to save yer life?” Hannah asked as she made her way to the hearth and checked the broth simmering there. She stirred it briefly, then moved to the pantry to collect a potato and a carrot. She took them to the table and began to chop.
“Well, obviously, he would be fine with that.” Violet laughed. “I hope.” Hannah looked up to see her looking puzzled, as if trying to figure out how to ask the right question. “The way ye’re making the whiskey. The infusion of it and such. I ken Da never made one like ye’re making now.”
Hannah paused her chopping for a moment, considering the question. Their father had always encouraged her to experiment, to make suggestions, to try things. He had been adamant that if she were to succeed him, she would need to know how to innovate.
“Aye.” She finished chopping, gathered the vegetables into her apron, and took them to the pot, letting them tumble in. “I think he’d be right jealous he didnae think of it first.”
13
Hannah’s eyes opened as if someone had shouted her name.
For a moment, she lay in her bed staring up at the ceiling of the alcove, dimly lit by the glowing coals of the banked hearth in the main room. Her eyes ached with the wish to go back to sleep, but when she tried to close them again, they just kept opening.
She’d been up far too late the night before, nervously tidying the hearth room, and then when she’d swept the same place for the fifteenth time, she’d forced herself to go to bed, and spent the next several hours tossing and turning, growing more and more frustrated.
She had no idea when she’d fallen asleep, but she was relieved she’d finally fallen asleep.
With a long and somewhat dramatic sigh, she rolled out of bed and wrapped herself in her shawl, before making her way into the main room with a sigh. She headed to the hearth and knelt there, stoking the fire back from coals to flames.
“Han?”
She glanced over her shoulder at her sister’s sleepy voice. “Are ye all right?”
“I’m fine.” Violet wandered out of her room in her shawl as well, blinking sleepily as she yawned and sat on the bench beside the hearth. “Ye have to head to the castle today, right?”
“Aye.” Hannah shook her ankle with a smile. “I do.”
“I daenae like it. He scares me.”
“Daenae be silly. He was only teasing ye about the blood thing. Mostly.” Hannah chuckled. “He isnae going to hurt me. And if he tries, he will find it’s far harder than he expected.”
Violet glanced toward the shutters, squinting. “It’s raining.”
Hannah sighed and rose to her feet. She went to open a shutter and found herself with a faceful of driving rain. Closing it again, she turned back. “It’s early morning, we have time for it to tidy itself up,” she said with certainty she wasn’t sure she felt, hoping she wouldn’t need to ride through driving rain.
She could. It would just be terribly unpleasant.
“Well, look at that, we can share breakfast,” she added with a smile, beginning to rake coals for the cast-iron pan. “How about some eggs?”
“What if I forgot to collect them yesterday?” Violet inquired with over-sweet innocence.
Hannah closed her eyes with a sigh. “Did ye?”
She was already expecting to push herself through the downpour outside when she heard her sister laughing. A vibrant sound she had missed terribly.
“Nay, big sister.”
Her annoyance faded instantly, and she raised her eyes heavenward. “Ye’re a menace.”
