Page 37 of Deception and Desire
The blacksmith shook his head. “He was a good mon and worked hard for every shilling.”
After meeting McPherson, Lachlan’s instinct told him the man was honest. Looking around the small forge, it appeared lucrative but not raking in hundreds of pounds anum. His cousin had been right.
“Thank ye for yer time.” Colin held out his hand and shook McPherson’s gloved one. “Would ye keep yer ears out for any talk? We’d appreciate it.”
“For certain,” agreed the blacksmith, “and if ye find him, save some hide for me, eh?”
Lachlan led the way out of the forge. “Time for a whisky. Ian is waiting at the townhouse.”
“There better be some of the aged barrel left. Yer brother’s quite fond of the good stuff.” Colin waved for the boy to bring their horses. “I’ll make some inquiries over the next couple days. See what we can find out.”
*
Lachlan arrived atthe mill with a whistle on his lips. At least a month’s reprieve, an attractive woman under foot, and bargaining to be done for shipments. How he loved to haggle and get the best price, buying or selling. It gave him the same warm, satisfied glow as a good scotch or a soft, willing female.
“What’s got ye so blasted cheerful?” asked Colin, eyes bloodshot and the rumpled shirt tucked into his kilt, looking as if he’d slept in it.
“Weel, my foggy cousin, I ken when to quit drinking.” He gave the suffering man a hard smack on the back and laughed when Colin winced.
“Take yer happy arse away from here or find me a tonic to help this aching head,” he grumbled in answer.
“Perhaps another wee nip will help?” Lachlan reached toward his sporran.
“I’m warning ye,” he growled.
“Take heart, mon. Ian feels as poorly as ye do, but he’s stuck in a saddle.”
A gruff chuckle followed Lachlan up the steps. In truth, he had only stopped at four drinks because of Fenella. He didn’t want a bleary mind when bantering with a pretty lady, and one he was hoping to give a favorable impression. He’d asked around about Mrs. Douglas. She was well respected in Glasgow, as her husband had been. The book store, though prosperous, had become too much for her to manage alone over the years. He understood that, as his own grandfather had quit making the journey to Glasgow.
He wondered why Mrs. Douglas hadn’t let her granddaughter take over the shop, considering Fenella’s talent with numbers. Perhaps the girl hadn’t been interested in such responsibility. It didn’t seem likely, though.
Lachlan headed for the dock. There was a shipment coming in and several going out. He needed to be a familiar face and presence to those involved with the imports or exports. It would be a long day, waiting for three o’clock.
About noon, he peeked into the office. “Are ye still allowing me to take ye for a ride after work?” he asked with his most charming smile. “Dinna disappoint me or I’ll never get through this day.”
She laughed, her eyes glinting silver with mischief. “You look better than Colin today. Is he not feeling well?”
“A bit of the Scotch plague, I think.” He grinned. “Fortunately, it’s no’ contagious if one has a wee bit of temperance or a good reason to resist it.”
“And which is it for you, sir?”
“Both, if ye must ken.” Och, she was an impudent lass today. He liked her spark. “I’ll see ye at three, then.”
The whistle came back to his lips, accompanied by the faint sound of humming behind him.
Lachlan sent theboy Malcolm with a message to bring round the wagon.
“A wagon?” squawked Sorcha. “Ye’re driving her home in a rickety wagon?” The older woman shook her head.
“Why not?” He’d figured to pick up some supplies along the way. Make the outing both business and pleasure since his day wouldn’t end for several more hours.
“Ye’d best be learning how to seriously woo a lass. She’s no’ some widow who’s happy with a roll in the—”
“Who said I wanted to woo her?” Lachlan raked his fingers through his hair.Sweet Mary!Did everyone know his mind? “I’m only showing her the district and bringing her home.”
Sorcha snorted. “And I’m the Queen of Scotland.” She walked away and returned with a square cushion covered in a soft green cotton. “Bring Malcolm with ye to make a name with her grandmother. Let her sit on this so she doesna get any splinters from the hard bench.”
“I dinna think about her backside,” he said with a smirk.
