Page 156 of The Highlander's English Bride

“No need, sir. I had luncheon just before I came.”

His gaze twinkled with humor. “Thank goodness. If you must know, I’m hopeless in the kitchen. Mrs. Adair barely lets me step foot in the room. She says I’m a menace to the domestic arts.”

Sabrina laughed. It felt good to laugh and enjoy a pleasant conversation with a man who wasn’t barking at her. “Then we must be thankful I’ve already eaten.”

“And please forgive my appearance, my lady. I was working on my Sunday sermon.”

“I should have sent a note down first, but I needed to speak to you with some degree of . . .” Sabrina hesitated. “Urgency.”

He turned serious. “Actually, I intended to call on you later today. I’ve been in Kinloch Laggan for the last few weeks, at my other parish. Kinloch is my primary living and keeps me busy. Not that Dunlaggan doesn’t have its challenges,” he dryly added.

“Have you been vicar in Dunlaggan for some time?”

“About two years. The Kinloch parish is within the purview of the head of the Chattan clan. When he appointed me to that parish, he asked that I be assigned to this living as well. Your father had no objection.”

“So you were here when Mr. Hugo was still the estate steward.”

“Yes,” he tersely replied.

“Do you mind if I ask your opinion of him?”

“The man was a complete scoundrel. We generally avoided each other.”

Drat.Would this be another dead end?

Mr. Brown grimaced. “I don’t mean to sound rude, my lady. I truly believe, though, that Mr. Hugo cared little for Lochnagar and its tenants. However, he did seem to have the trust of your father’s business manager in Edinburgh.”

Sabrina clenched her gloved hands in her lap. “I apologize. My father’s health has been uncertain, and he turned his Scottish concerns over to his manager. With unhappy results, I’m afraid.”

“No apology is necessary. There are a fair number of absentee landowners in the Highlands, and some are better than others. Now, there is little doubt that change is coming to this part of Scotland, Lochnagar included.”

“And I intend to reverse the changes that have hurt the tenants and the locals, as best I can.”

He gave her a relieved smile. “That is splendid news, indeed.”

“But as you say, there are challenges. The villagers and even the manor staff are quite wary. We know something criminal took place under Mr. Hugo’s supervision. We’ve also deduced that the new estate manager, Mr. Francis, was apparently frightened off.”

“That was my impression, as well.”

Sabrina clapped her hands in frustration. “But no one will talk to me about it.”

Mr. Brown sighed. “The people of Dunlaggan can be remarkably reticent. And it would be worse for you, the daughter of an absentee landlord, and aSassenach, no less. I’m afraid I must counsel patience.”

“It’s hard to be patient when there’s skullduggery afoot on your own lands. And aside from Mr. Hugo, I don’t even know the names of those involved.”

“I know who they are and what they’ve been doing,” the vicar calmly said. “It’s not exactly a secret.”

It took a few moments for Sabrina to muster her wits. “You know about the smuggling, then?”

“Everyone knows about it, my lady.”

“Yet I obviously know very little,” she tartly replied.

He winced. “Forgive me. I’d assumed that Mrs. Wilson would have informed you of some of the details.”

“Not a word. One of the older crofters did tell us that someone was brewing whisky and likely running a smuggling ring.”

“A very successful smuggling ring, one that was primarily to the benefit of Mr. Hugo and the Barr family, one of your former tenants.”

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