Chapter 17
They had arrived at her cottage a little over an hour after they’d left the castle.
Lucas had seen her to the distillery, where she stopped to check the mash. He had refused the offer to stay for lunch, but had accepted a flask of the whiskey he’d seen being bottled days before. Then he’d wished her well and gone on his way.
“He wouldnae let ye leave?” Violet asked after she’d nearly tackled her in the doorway.
Hannah laughed. “Ye say it like he held me captive, Vi. He was worried about me in the dark, that’s all. And I assure ye, he treated me very well. Most interesting foods and a hot bath and all.”
“Well, now I’m jealous. Maybe I should tag along on the next delivery, and we should time it for the darkness again.”
Hannah gasped at her sister’s audacity. “Violet Leon!”
Violet laughed merrily at that, a sound that warmed Hannah’s heart with its vibrancy. “Ye sound defensive. Did I hit a nerve?”
“Nay! Ye didnae!”
“Ach, again with the bad lies! But I mean it, Sister. Ye should be careful.”
Hannah cleared her throat, tossing back her head. “He willnae hurt me. I already told ye that.”
Violet pursed her lips. “Maybe he willnae hurt ye physically, but there are other pains a person can suffer, too. Besides, I can tell ye are playing with fire.”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “Goodness. When did me sister become the wise woman of the village? Is there anything ye daenae ken?”
Violet chuckled. “I’ll be seeing to the chickens, then.” She headed out through the front door, Hannah swiping at her as she went.
Hannah was still chuckling when she returned to the distillery to snag a full bottle of whiskey, remembering she owed the farrier. She imagined he would be less nervous about accepting his payment without Aiden looming over her shoulder.
She was still smiling when she started down the path from the cottage and saw people out and about. Shouting to one another from doorways. A group of women waulking wool together. Men working their fields. Children shrieking in delight as they played tag.
It felt like it had been months since she’d seen so much life in the village. Her heart swelled at the sight of it all, delighted that she could tell Aiden all about the life he’d breathed back into the village with just some plants and healers.
She smiled at a passing woman. “Good day!”
The woman frowned at her and hurried by without a word.
That was strange.
Deciding perhaps the woman was having a bad day, or was in a hurry, or… who knew, Hannah tried not to take it personally and kept on her way.
When she got to the village… well, it was bustling. None of the villagers would look at her, even when she tried to greet them. In fact, every one of them seemed to be deliberately not looking at her.
Confused, she decided to keep going.
“Hure,” she heard at her back.
She paused, glancing over her shoulder. Surely she’d misheard.
“Strumpet.” She heard that one loud and clear.
Her face reddening with embarrassment and anger, she hurried past, going to the door of the farrier. He glanced up, saw her, and frowned.
“Liam. Here.” She held out the whiskey bottle.
He scoffed. “Nay.”
“Nay?” She looked at the bottle and then up at him. “What do ye mean, nay?”
“Get out.” Liam came at her. His hammer was still in his hand, though he didn’t raise it. That was still enough for her to back away from him and out through the door, which he slammed in her face.
Now there was definitely something going on.
Hannah swallowed hard, staring at the wooden planks in bewilderment.
What had she done? She couldn’t think of anything she’d done wrong.
On the contrary, she’d brought the Laird’s attention to their plight, hadn’t she?
She didn’t expect them to be singing her praises, but she certainly didn’t expect this sort of treatment.
She glanced around, seeing more spiteful looks. Not wanting to risk another confrontation, she hiked up her skirts and fled with the whiskey bottle back down the road. She didn’t stop running until she’d made it back to her cottage.
Out of breath, she slammed the door open, startling her sister from her sweeping of the hearth.
“Hannah?”
Near tears, Hannah stared at her. “What in the Lord’s name is wrong with the villagers? What’s gotten into them?”
Violet looked a little bit guilty, rubbing her forehead and leaving a smear of soot. “Oh. I… I mean, what were they doing?”
“Violet Leon, I can tell from the look on yer face that ye ken good and well what’s going on.”
Hannah heard heavy footsteps behind her, and she whipped around, raising the bottle she had just now realized was still in her hand as if she was going to knock the intruder out.
“Oy! Hannah!” Duncan held up his hands. “I didnae come to harm ye.” He laughed as she lowered the bottle. “Ye’re a right menace when ye want to be.”
She put the bottle down on the table and rubbed her hands over her face. “Och. Sorry, Duncan.”
“Ye’re forgiven… but perhaps ye shouldnae be apologizing to me yet.”
“What does that mean?” Hannah was beginning to feel like everyone knew what was going on around her except herself.
“Most of the orders from the distillery have been withdrawn.”
“How do ye ken that? Why?” she demanded, her voice pitching higher than she’d ever heard it and cracking.
“Heard talk at the tavern,” he said apologetically. “The villagers, at least, are going to withdraw their orders. I daenae ken how many outside our village.”
Hannah felt her heart just about stop. Absolutely frozen in place, her jaw hanging loose, her legs going numb. She had to put in a great effort to remember how to breathe again, but that didn’t keep her knees from buckling.
“Hey, hey!” Duncan jumped forward and caught her about the waist, before moving her to a chair at the table and lowering her into it. “Hannah!”
“Why?” she choked out, trying very hard not to faint straight off her seat.
Duncan kept a hand on her shoulder, looking concerned. “Oh, Hannah.”
“Why?” she nearly shouted at him.
“They…” He hesitated, and at her sharp look, he took a breath and continued speaking. “They daenae want to buy things from ‘the Laird’s wench.’”
“Excuse me?” Her voice pitched high again, cracked again. Tears pricked her eyes. “They said what?”
“They… they said he’s only helping us because… well…” he trailed off.
Hannah grabbed his collar, yanking him down to her eye level. “Duncan, if ye daenae spit it out—”
“They think ye’ve been whoring yerself out to him in exchange for his help. They’re disgusted by ye both.” It all came out in a rush.
“What gave them that idea?” she demanded, though she let go of the poor man’s tunic.
His eyes darted to Violet.
Hannah pressed her lips together so hard they must have vanished from sight and turned her head to her little sister. “Violet.”
Violet looked like she was considering whether she was fast enough to make it past her and out the door again. Hannah returned that look with one that suggested that if she moved a muscle, she was going to full-body tackle her.
“Ye didnae come back yesterday,” Violet managed to say.
“And what does that have to do with anything?” Hannah was beginning to feel like she might be losing her mind. She wanted to wake up in the bed she’d been enjoying a few hours ago and realize this was just a wild dream.
“I went to town,” Violet mumbled to her toes.
“Ye both seem to be giving this story in bits and pieces.” Hannah pressed her hand to her forehead, feeling a throbbing behind her eyes. “For both of yer sakes, spit it out.”
Violet peeked up with that guilty look again, the one she usually wore when she’d knocked over a milk pail or dropped a basket of eggs.
Or perhaps the one she’d worn once when she’d dropped a full cask of whiskey and cracked it.
“I told the people at the well that ye’d gone to the Laird’s castle for the third time in as many weeks, and ye hadnae come back this time. ”
Hannah dropped her forehead to the table with a painful thud. “Which they understood as me making weekly… visits… for untoward purposes,” she spoke into the wood.
“Why were ye making weekly visits?” Duncan asked from where he now crouched beside her.
She turned her head and saw his searching eyes. He looked almost hurt.
“He had the angelica root,” she muttered.
“The herb that helped Violet and the rest of the village. I brought him a special whiskey I’d been perfecting.
” She drew a breath and blew it out before continuing.
“I told him about what had been going on here. For four more bottles, one a week, he agreed to help.” She paused for a moment, thinking.
“Actually, he only agreed to let me take the angelica. The helping he did all on his own.”
“The villagers think ye’ve made yerself a woman of ill repute,” Duncan said softly, resting a hand on her leg as he looked up at her. “They willnae do business with a loose woman, nay matter how good her whiskey is.”
Hannah growled and slammed her fists on the table. “That ungrateful lot. They’ve been doing better for less than a week, and already they’re turning on the one who saved them?”
Duncan stood, backing up a step and crossing his arms. “Why did he decide to help us?”
“What do ye mean?” Hannah blinked up at him, confused. “I just told ye why.”
“Nay. Ye told me why he let ye bring the angelica back to help Violet.” He glanced at her sister and back. “Ye didnae tell me why he helped the rest of the village. Did ye bring him more than whiskey? Did ye sleep with him?”
Hannah’s jaw dropped again. It was something she was ready to stop doing, especially with the memory of the very intimate moment they’d shared the night before. Which was nobody’s business but theirs.
Duncan still looked hurt, like he’d lost something important to him. “It’s plain ye’re quick to defend him.”
“He’s nae the monster everyone says he is, that’s why. Nay one else is defending him.”
“Ye havenae answered the question,” he whispered.
“It’s none of yer business!” Hannah snarled. “But nay, I didnae bring him more than whiskey. He didnae seem to ken what’s been happening in the village. Besides, do ye think it’s so unlikely that he actually cares for his people?”
He looked slightly relieved at that, his arms unfolding and dropping by his sides. When he spoke, his tone was careful. “So ye arenae concerned with what happens to him?”
What a strange question.
Hannah furrowed her brow. “Nay… why would I be?” She amended that answer after a heartbeat. “Well, he has become somewhat of a friend.” She clenched her teeth for a moment and then asked, “What else arenae ye telling me? Why do ye ask?”
Duncan had a reluctant look on his face again, and she nearly swore, frustrated.
“Speak.”
He sighed. “The people from our village and at least one more are headed to MacBain Castle to demand he step down. Either of his own volition or by force.”
“What?” Hannah surged to her feet. “Ye cannae mean that.”
“I do. And I’m worried about what that could mean for ye as well. They’re angry.”
Oh, nay. Nay, nay, nay. This isnae fair. They cannae do that.
Duncan reached out for her, but she slapped his hand away. “Hannah, sit down. Be serious. There is nothing ye can do about this. There is nothing ye can change.”
“Well, I willnae change a thing if I daenae try.”
“Stop it. Sit down.”
Hannah was already halfway through the door. “I have to warn him!”