Page 39 of Sweet Home Highlander
The cool press of the wooded path made her skin shiver over with gooseflesh as she turned to stare at Makenna. “What do you mean by that?”
“Niall hasnae had a sip of spirits in years.”
Aisla’s mount slowed, as if sensing her confusion. “He…are you certain?”
She thought back just a week before, when Niall had come back to Tarben Castle, drenched in the ripe odor of ale. He’d been at a tavern, he’d said, and one of the men there had spilled on him and she hadn’t believed him. In truth, he hadn’t appeared to be drunk, but she’d known plenty of men, both growing up at Montgomery, and in Paris, who could function well when utterly foxed. Niall, himself, had convinced her of it more than once. But now, Aisla felt a bit ill to her stomach as Makenna gave an assertive nod.
“Oh, aye, I was told he was teased mercilessly about it in the beginning, o’course. But it was soon just something about him that everyone kenned.”
Aisla wasn’t prepared for the jab of guilt. She hadn’t believed him, and he’d been telling the truth. She spurred her horse on to catch up to Makenna’s as they climbed a small ridge in the wood, emerging from the trees a moment later. She stared at the chestnut mane of her mare, stunned.
“Not even one sip?” she asked.
Makenna laughed. “I’ve heard he’s taken to tea like a proper Englishman, and that Mrs. Wingate has to grind coffee beans at all hours of the day and night, but aye…no’ one sip of ale or whisky, or even cider. He wants to keep a clear head, ye ken.”
A clear head. Herhusband.
Aisla’s thoughts came to her in a disjointed manner, her surprise was so sharp. But then, as she sat with the knowledge for a moment, she did have to admit that, other than the evening he returned doused in ale, she hadn’t smelled anything on him. He hadn’t stumbled back to the castle in a soggy haze. In fact, every time Aisla woke in the morning and broke her fast, the servants had told her that the laird had already done the same, an hour or more before her.
She took a breath and finally looked up from the horse’s mane. They had come out of the wood onto the cleared crest of a hill, and just a ways off, she saw something she hadn’t before, not on any of her rides or walks the past week, nor from the windows of Tarben Castle: a collection of stone-built towers and shafts, and wooden huts strewn across the ridge. She realized where Makenna had led them.
“This is the quarry?” Aisla guessed.
“Ye see, Niall’s been hard at work here,” Makenna said with no small amount of pride in her voice. “The mines were nothing at all when he took them over. Now, he’s finally turning a profit, at least that’s what he wrote in his last letter to me.”
Aisla directed her mount onward, toward the tall, shaft-like towers, and the miners going about their business, pushing wheelbarrows and directing yoked mules pulling carts. The place looked to be busy, and from a distance, it also looked like it was running smoothly. As she and Makenna drew closer, she noticed it wasn’t just men working, either. There were women, their workaday dresses smudged with dirt, their hands busy with any number of duties. And one man, leading a cart toward a long trough of water, where women were using sieves to drain and wash what looked like rubble and rock, had a noticeable limp.
“All of his employees are able-bodied clansmen and women, but Niall is especially deliberate in hiring those who need the work. Men who returned from the English’s war with France injured, like Gilroy there,” Makenna said, nodding toward the older man with a limp. Upon closer inspection, Aisla saw his trouser hem partially obscured a wooden foot.
“And the women?” she asked, noting that many of them weren’t fresh faced or young.
“Mostly widows,” Makenna replied. “Or women who didnae marry.”
They weren’t typical mine workers, to be sure. But Niall had taken special care to hire them.
“Why?” she whispered, mostly to herself, though Makenna was still listening.
“I’ve never asked him,” she answered. “Perhaps ye should.”
Aisla drew to a stop, and a moment later, heard Julien’s horse just behind them. “There is talk at Maclaren that they’ve discovered a new vein of topaz recently.”
She’d nearly forgotten that Julien had been trailing them with his own mount. Makenna spurred her horse forward a bit, ignoring him.
“Whatever you did or said, Lord Leclerc, I think you have somesincereapologizing to do,” Aisla said under her breath.
“Perhaps you’re right, though don’t get used to my telling you that.”
“I’d never dream of it,” she replied.
Julien let out a tight sigh. “I suppose I’m on edge for a reason. A letter arrived this morning sayingMamanhas not improved.” He shifted awkwardly, his voice lowering. “I hate to ask, but is your heart still in this? What we came here for?”
Aisla felt a strange unraveling in her stomach, along with a fresh dose of guilt. “Of course I am. I made you a promise.”
A dull flush crested his cheekbones. “You know how muchMamanmeans to me. She’s all I have, and this is all she wants. But lately, it seems like you’re not…committed.” He sucked in a harsh breath. “You’re my best friend, and I need you, Aisla. But I’ll be honest with you. It appears your hands are tied more tightly than you believe.”
Aisla exhaled sharply, her heart twisting at the expression on her friend’s face. Julienhadvolunteered to come to Scotland with her, but she’d thought getting Niall’s agreement to the divorce would be a simple matter. Not that she would have to remain here while the records were located.
“No, you’re right. This has turned into a shambles. I’ll get it done, Jules. I promise.”
