Chapter 2
“Daenae let me see ye ‘round here again, ye howlin’ roaster!”
The words were followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the ground, falling on something that clanked under the heavy weight of someone’s drunken load.
Colby could only assume that was what happened, since he was not inclined to satisfy his nonexistent curiosity.
He had other, more pressing matters to tend to.
His horse quickly came to a halt, with a calm neighing sound.
Colby caressed the animal’s neck, feeling its soft mane underneath the palm of his hand.
The ride was a peaceful gallop of about an hour, from his castle to the outskirts of Edinburgh.
Immediately, a boy of about fifteen rushed over to him and took the reins from Colby’s hands.
He didn’t need to instruct him to take good care of his horse.
The boy knew his life depended on the well-being of the horse.
Colby nodded at the man standing in front of the backdoor entrance to The Sinner’s Pub. The man reciprocated the action, stepping to the side. Upon entering the pub, Colby immediately noticed that Malcolm was waiting for him.
“Any trouble?” That was the first thing that he asked, needing clarification.
“Aye,” Malcolm confirmed, his usually stern facial features not once relaxing. It was simply how he was, whether in war or times of peace. “Laird McKinley’s son was here, getting sloshed again, then claimin’ he was bein’ cheated during a game of cards.”
Colby sighed, raking his fingers through his thick, unruly curls. “I daenae want to see him in here again. Understood?”
“Aye,” Malcolm nodded. “What if his faither comes again?”
“I am nae here for him,” Colby instructed. “I have already forgiven that insolent lad for smashin’ whiskey glasses and punchin’ one of me regulars. I cannae have that again. This is a place of ill-repute, but even we have a line that I willnae have anyone cross.”
“Understood,” Malcolm nodded.
That meant that the matter was concluded.
At least, it would be until Laird McKinley himself came again, vouching for his son’s good behavior, only this time Colby would not be buying it.
He had been fooled once. That wasn’t his fault.
But a second time would certainly be his fault.
He did not plan for there to be a second time, no matter how good old Laird McKinley was with his own father. The time for sympathies was long gone.
“Thomas and Dominic?” Colby inquired, as the two men continued to walk down a long private corridor.
There was a door that separated them from all the visitors to The Sinner’s Pub, and Colby liked to keep it that way.
He did not consider himself a victim of those vices, but he was more than happy to make a profit from them.
The same could have been said of his two best friends, who seemed perfectly at ease about running the most disreputable club in all of Scotland.
“They are waitin’ for ye,” Malcom nodded, as he stopped in front of a door, remaining there.
Colby said nothing. He pushed the door open, then closed it behind him. His two friends seemed to have been immersed in a heated argument, and Colby’s arrival did not seem to interrupt them.
“…just stress,” Thomas Chapman, the Laird of MacPherson and cousin to Colby, was a man of only eight and twenty years of age, but his chiseled chin and Roman nose made him appear to belong to a completely different era.
That was exactly what the ladies liked about him.
“That is why there are only two things one needs to ken in life: fightin’ and sleepin’ with women without gettin’ them attached to ye. ”
“Ye trust women too much,” Dominic Sutherford, Laird of MacLennan, the third best friend of The Sinner’s Pub owner trio pointed out, sounding incredulous.
He was only two years older than Thomas, but his sense of responsibility and wisdom far outweighed that of his friends. “It is best to keep one’s distance.”
“Unless one is intoxicated and the distance is diminished to just a few inches,” Thomas chuckled.
Only then did the two men notice Colby. They smiled, getting up from their seats, greeting their friend. “What do ye think, Colby?”
“About women?” Colby frowned, feeling a headache coming on.
When he left, the girls had still not been found and that impetuous healer lass was bothering him again. Suffice to say, he was not keen on women at this point.
“I would rather not be around any right now,” Colby explained exasperatedly. “The lasses are more trouble than they’re worth. I swear, I have no idea how my brother handled them both. One perhaps, but together, the two are worse than a week in hell.”
“So, ye are stressed by women of all ages,” Dominic shook his head, then turned to Thomas. “See? Me point exactly. Women are trouble.”
“As if that wasn’t enough, I’ve got another lass on me back, not lettin’ me breathe,” Colby could not help but share what happened.
“I wouldnae mind a lass on her back,” Thomas grinned.
“This one ye woudnae, believe me,” Colby grimaced, but it didn’t escape his notice that he disliked the fact that Thomas mentioned seeing Veronica on her back. There was something about another man seeing her like that, even thinking about her in such a manner, that made him… uneasy. How strange.
“Why nae?” Thomas wondered. “Is she hackit?”
On the contrary, she is rather bonnie. Those were the words that immediately materialized in Colby’s mind, but he bit his tongue before he could say them out loud.
“She is all right, I suppose,” Colby shrugged.
That was a horrible lie, but he was dammed if he was going to admit how beautiful she was or that he could not stop thinking about her at the most inopportune times. Those admonitions would be kept to himself.
“But she is a headache,” Colby added quickly, wishing to move away from the topic of her looks and more onto the topic of how annoying she was. “She willnae stop pesterin’ me. Today is the fourth time she’s paid me a visit, without arrangin’ for it.”
“What does she want?” Dominic asked, sounding intrigued.
“She has a business proposal,” Colby tried to explain in as few words as possible. “She is a healer and wants to start sellin’ what she makes.”
Dominic frowned. “That doesnae sound like a good business venture.”
“Me thoughts exactly!” Colby gestured at the man with his hands. “But she willnae stop comin’ to me. And she comes bringin’ her pomades with her, wantin’ to show them to me, smellin’ of roses and what nots, and I really—”
“So, ye noticed she smells of roses?” Thomas teased, giving Dominic a meaningful glance.
“Daenae be givin’ me that look,” Colby frowned. “I have a nose. Of course, I can smell a woman, when she smells intoxicatin’.”
“Intoxicatin’, eh?” Thomas was grinning now.
“I meant, suffocatin’,” Colby quickly corrected himself. “The smell was too potent. It gripped at me nostrils like a wild cat, clawin’.” He tried to explain himself, but the more he continued, the less convincing he sounded.
“Aye,” Thomas laughed. Even Dominic, who wasn’t usually one to be amused by such comments, was chuckling. “Intoxicatin’ and suffocatin’ have a similar meanin’.”
“Well, now ye’re just tryin’ yer luck,” Colby threatened in a playful manner, which led all three men to laugh. Then, once the onslaught of laughter subsided, Colby continued. “All right, now that we got that out of the way, how about we focus on business, lads?”
“Some things just arenae meant to be, lass,” Sebastian Martin, Veronica’s father spoke softly to her upon her return from Ferguson Castle. He was sitting in his armchair, massaging his knee.
“Does it hurt?” she asked. The issue of her father’s pain was much more important than that smug laird who could not see a good deal when it was staring him right in the face.
“A wee bit,” he nodded with a forced smile.
She knew him well enough to know that he was lying.
His lame leg had been hurting him much more lately, and the pomade she was able to make for him was helping less and less.
He needed more expensive ingredients, ones she would need to order from Edinburgh, which would cost more than they would be able to afford now.
They both knew it, but they pretended they didn’t.
That was the sad state of affairs which Veronica was so desperate to rectify.
“You should stay off it,” she urged. “Rest more, Pa.”
“I cannae afford to rest,” he shook his head, getting up, visibly straining himself. “Not now when me daughter takes care of us both. I could find a job meself. Perhaps old Donaghy might have somethin’ for me to do.”
Veronica looked at him sorrowfully. Her heart was aching for him.
Her father had always been a proud man, who did his best to take care of his wife and daughter.
It was actually from her mother that Veronica inherited her healing gifts, only her mother never really wanted to turn it into a business.
She was happy simply aiding those in need and never asking for anything in return, other than their appreciation.
Veronica would have been happy doing the same, however, the times had changed since then.
They were barely making ends meet, and her father’s leg was growing worse with each passing day.
She had to do something, and the only way she could make some money for the two of them was to start selling her healing goods.
“I am happy to take care of us,” she smiled. “Ye ken that. I just need to convince that laird to invest in me business.”
“Ye cannae convince someone of somethin’ they daenae wish to do,” he reminded her. “It is a futile effort, lass.”
“The laird wants to invest,” she corrected him. “He just doesnae ken it yet.”
Her father chuckled. “Ye are just like yer dear maither, God rest her soul. When she set her mind to somethin’, she would move the mountains to make it happen.
Ye remind me so much of her.” He walked over to her and placed his hard, calloused hand on her cheek.
Veronica closed her eyes, smiling. “I see so much of her in ye every day and I ken she would have been as proud of ye as I am.”
“I hope so, Pa,” Veronica felt overwhelmed by the memory of her mother.
It had been five long years since her mother had passed away, and yet, sometimes, Veronica could still swear that she heard her mother’s voice out in the garden, gathering herbs or singing in the kitchen as she usually did when she was cooking.
However, Veronica would quickly realize that it was just her mind playing tricks on her.
Just as she was about to tell her father that there was no need to worry, a little white lie she kept telling herself as well, they heard the bell, which hung right above the door, ringing faintly from the adjacent room.
“Ah, yer patients,” her father smiled. “Why daenae ye take care of yer work, and I’ll make us a vegetable stew?”
She took her father’s hands and brought them to her lips, kissing them reverently. “Thank ye, Pa.”
“My sweet lass,” her father replied, smiling at her. “What would I do without ye?”
“I daenae wish ye to ever find out,” she smiled back at him, heading towards the door. Her usual day was about to begin, which meant that she would need to forget about the Laird Ferguson, at least for the time being.
However, that didn’t mean that she had given up on him.
On the contrary, she was now even more determined to convince him that investing in her healing business would be the best decision he had ever made. All she had to do was come up with a good strategy, one he would not be able to refuse.