She knew the answer.
Now she only had to convince the man she’d fallen in love with to agree.
“You should go.” James wondered if he’d slurred the words or just imagined that he had. “She’ll come looking for you if you don’t.”
Across the room, Angus Blackwood sat on the only comfortable chair in the little cottage James had been relegated to.
“Aye, I’ll go. I’ll leave the bottle. It’s some of my best, don’t you think?”
James eyed the golden liquid in his glass and could feel the whiskey’s effects in his body andblood. The flavor was magnificent. Buttery smooth with hints of oak and a lovely searing hit as it slid down his throat.
“Blackwood Whiskey is the best in Scotland, if I do say so meself.” Angus frowned and pointed at James, still clutching his glass with the rest of his fingers. “I wanted you to have a sample before I’m on my way back north for a few days. Can’t leave the business unattended too long.”
“Your kindness is appreciated, Blackwood.”
The older man settled back in the overstuffed chair. “Not only kindness, Rossbury. I’ve a proposition for ye.”
If the man meant to offer for Invermere again, James was determined to make the sale happen. Lady Cassandra might not get the funding she needed, and not in the time frame James needed to sell. But if Blackwood did—and apparently, he was some kind of wealthy whiskey baron—then his purchase could solve everything. Even if his lady love was angry with him for a bit. She’d eventually come to see that he’d done it out of love, and James had no doubt he’d gift ownership to her immediately.
“I’d like to hear it.” James poured himself another finger of whiskey. He wasn’t a man who generally indulged in drunkenness. He preferred his senses sharp, but today had been a hell of a day.
“You still have any of your ships?”
Angus’s question came as such a shock that James choked on the sip of liquor he’d taken. Theburn seared his throat and felt like it set his lungs aflame, and he coughed as his eyes watered.
“I have one,” he said with a rasp when he could breathe normally again. “The last I ever purchased. Couldn’t bring myself to part with her. Also, it’s co-owned with a business partner, and he couldn’t afford to buy out my share.” James smiled, and it felt more like a grimace. Both had lost money in Beck’s scheme.
“What kind of ship?”
“A transatlantic steamer but with an expanded engine, making it faster than most.”
The old man lifted his glass, tipped back most of the contents, and let out a satisfied sigh. “That is exactly what I wished to hear. I had a feeling about ye, Rossbury.” He winced. “Good god, man, may I call ye Pembroke? Or James? Repeating that man’s name makes even my whiskey go down sour.”
“James. Pembroke. Whichever you like. And I agree about loathing the name.”
Angus raised his glass and James did the same, and they toasted from across the room.
“Ship my whiskey to America. How do ye like that idea?”
James laughed, then noted Angus’s frown and realized the man was serious. “I have no shipping company, Blackwood. It’s defunct. My lease is up on the offices, and long since expired on my warehouse space and docking fees.”
“What if that weren’t the case?”
“Maybe the whiskey has muddled my brain, but I’m not sure what you’re suggesting.”
“A partnership of sorts, my boy. Your ship, my whiskey.”
“This is pity. You could find other companies to ship your whiskey.”
“It’s nae pity. Just a good opportunity, for both of us.” Angus hunched forward, his intense gaze animated. “See here. Ye give me a fair price for shipping, and I get my whiskey into the American market.”
“Where you don’t have it now?”
“Correct. And if I’m doing ye a good turn, then I’m glad for it. But it’s nae charity, Pembroke. Sometimes a business arrangement can be more than mercenary.”
“And how does this help solve the problem of her ladyship’s home?”
“If you can revive your business, will ye need to sell so sharpish?”
