Chapter Twenty-Four
Liam rode insilence, his head and his back aching from lack of sleep. Hard enough to get the coin from the bankers, even with Aaron’s letter and cheque. Harder still to order the stone and hire masons to help rebuild his home. But the worst task of all was riding with his once best friend Connall, future Laird of the Aberbeag, as the man teased him mercilessly about following a woman’s plans. He was a man, damnit, and a man knew when to listen to an educated soul, even if she be a woman.
But it was madness to try to restore a castle starting in midsummer based on the designs of a man he did not know.
“Why aren’t you selling your whisky to the Sassenach?” Connall asked. “It’s good enough for them.”
“I am!” he huffed.
“No, you’re waiting for your wife’s brother to push it to the Prince Regent. Why not just sell it in London to every nob who—”
“Because a royal warrant triples the price, and well you know it.”
“True, true,” the man said with a waggle of his brows. “But what if it doesn’t, eh? What if your brother-in-law isn’t as close with the Prince Regent as he claims.”
“It’s not Aaron, it’s his cousin who orders the royal food—”
“Yes, yes, but what if doesn’t work? Where will you be then?”
“Home in a newly built castle with my wife.” He hoped.
“But what if I were to take your whisky there myself? I’d get you a good price, tease it to a few of my friends.”
“You have no English friends. You hated English school and left the moment you could.”
“I did, but I made friends with a few. And perhaps it’s time for me to find a wife.” His gaze slid away. That was clue enough, but then he began to whistle a low tuneless sound that scraped along Liam’s nerves.
“For heaven’s sake, Connall—” Liam began, but he was interrupted.
“I could sell your whisky, and mayhap I can escort a certain lady to London at the same time.”
Liam twisted on his horse and glared at his friend. “Is that why you insisted you follow me to Edinburgh? Is that why I’ve been cursed with your infernal whistling all this time? Just so you could fabricate an excuse to court Mairi?”
“I had tasks in Edinburgh,” Connall retorted.
“Trivial matters—”
“And I enjoy the trip more with company.”
Liam snorted. “Not with my company.”
“True enough, but I had no idea you would be so surly the whole time.” He shuddered. “Slit my throat if I ever moon over a woman the way you are.”
Liam cut his friend a hard look. “You’re creating an excuse to go to London with Mairi. That’s lovesick enough.”
“I’m offering to help you before you’re broke and on my doorstep begging for crumbs. Though…” he added slowly, “it would be useful to have an excuse to work with Mairi. If she and I together were tasked with finding an English market for your whisky, then I might use the time to know her better.”
“Why not just court her in the normal way?” He looked up with his first smile in two days. “Oh, yes. I heard you tried that, and she sent you packing. What did you say? Something about apples and how you would pluck her.” He chuckled when he remembered her outrage. “How I wish I’d been there to see it in person—”
“That’s not how I meant it,” his friend grumbled.
“It’s not how any man with a brain would mean it.” He shook his head. “You and Mairi have been oil and water since the first time she outran you in a footrace.”
“It’s not me. It’s her being so prickly. Which is why I need a reason to be around her. If we’ve a task to do together, then she’ll have time to realize I’m not a monster.”
“She’s known you all her life. She doesn’t need more time—”
“She thinks I’m still a boy. Will you help me or no’?”
