Hannah dropped her forehead to the table with a painful thud. “Which they understood as me making weekly… visits… for untoward purposes,” she spoke into the wood.
“Why were ye making weekly visits?” Duncan asked from where he now crouched beside her.
She turned her head and saw his searching eyes. He looked almost hurt.
“He had the angelica root,” she muttered. “The herb that helped Violet and the rest of the village. I brought him a special whiskey I’d been perfecting.” She drew a breath and blew it out before continuing. “I told him about what had been going on here. For four more bottles, one a week, he agreed to help.” She paused for a moment, thinking. “Actually, he only agreed to let me take the angelica. The helping he did all on his own.”
“The villagers think ye’ve made yerself a woman of ill repute,” Duncan said softly, resting a hand on her leg as he looked up at her. “They willnae do business with a loose woman, nay matter how good her whiskey is.”
Hannah growled and slammed her fists on the table. “That ungrateful lot. They’ve been doing better for less than a week, and already they’re turning on the one who saved them?”
Duncan stood, backing up a step and crossing his arms. “Why did he decide to help us?”
“What do ye mean?” Hannah blinked up at him, confused. “I just told ye why.”
“Nay. Ye told me why he let ye bring the angelica back to help Violet.” He glanced at her sister and back. “Ye didnae tell me why he helped the rest of the village. Did ye bring him more than whiskey? Did ye sleep with him?”
Hannah’s jaw dropped again. It was something she was ready to stop doing, especially with the memory of the very intimate moment they’d shared the night before. Which wasnobody’s business but theirs.
Duncan still looked hurt, like he’d lost something important to him. “It’s plain ye’re quick to defend him.”
“He’s nae the monster everyone says he is, that’s why. Nay one else is defending him.”
“Ye havenae answered the question,” he whispered.
“It’s none of yer business!” Hannah snarled. “But nay, I didnae bring him more than whiskey. He didnae seem to ken what’s been happening in the village. Besides, do ye think it’s so unlikely that he actually cares for his people?”
He looked slightly relieved at that, his arms unfolding and dropping by his sides. When he spoke, his tone was careful. “So ye arenae concerned with what happens to him?”
What a strange question.
Hannah furrowed her brow. “Nay… why would I be?” She amended that answer after a heartbeat. “Well, he has become somewhat of a friend.” She clenched her teeth for a moment and then asked, “What else arenae ye telling me? Why do ye ask?”
Duncan had a reluctant look on his face again, and she nearly swore, frustrated.
“Speak.”
He sighed. “The people from our village and at least one more are headed to MacBain Castle to demand he step down. Either of his own volition or by force.”
“What?” Hannah surged to her feet. “Ye cannae mean that.”
“I do. And I’m worried about what that could mean for ye as well. They’re angry.”
Oh, nay. Nay, nay, nay. This isnae fair. They cannae do that.
Duncan reached out for her, but she slapped his hand away. “Hannah, sit down. Be serious. There is nothing ye can do about this. There is nothing ye can change.”
“Well, I willnae change a thing if I daenae try.”
“Stop it. Sit down.”
Hannah was already halfway through the door. “I have to warn him!”
18
The setting sun threw Hannah’s shadow ahead of her, stretching out desperately as if it were trying to reach MacBain Castle before she did.
I have to warn him. I have to warn him.
