“No, you may not,” Jamie replied in the same tone.
“I see.” Darroch’s tone was one of resignation. This was the answer he had expected. Sadly, apart from physically dragging Jamie out of the castle and giving him the sound thrashing he so richly deserved, there was nothing he could do about it. He had been told what to expect, but the reality was much worse than he had imagined. “If all the rest of your accounts are as much in shambles as these ones are, then I suggest you hire a steward.”
Jamie smiled smugly. “I have one. He works for me and he worked for my father too.”
“Then fire him and employ someone who can do the job properly!” Alan thundered. “Good God, lad! Look at the state this place is in! Walls crumbling, weeds running riot everywhere, roofs falling in. When was the last time you got out of your chair and had a look around this place? Your father seized this estate when the mistress of the castle was still in mourning, and the place was in good condition. Presumably he had some idea of using it for something. Are you just going to sit here and let it rot? Your tenants are suffering - have you no means to help them or are you already bankrupt? Open your coffers to your people, for God’s sake! Let them work the land - it will pay you in the end.”
“When it is your estate, then you can tell me what to do!” Jamie spat. “You and my sister must be in league with each other - she never stops giving me wise counsel either, even though she has no clue what she is talking about!” His voice was bitter. “Now, is there anything else you came to say before you go?”
Alan Darroch stood up. “I will inform the chief in Dundee of your words,” he said grimly. “He may want to come and see you himself.”
Jamie swallowed nervously. “Then I will be ready for him, but I doubt he will waste his valuable time on me.”
“You will hear from us again,” Andrew Darroch growled. He gave Jamie a scathing, top-to-toe glare then swept out.
Once alone, Jamie’s knees became so weak he almost fell over. He stumbled to the chair, but not before grabbing the whisky, and flopped down into it. After a few seconds he tilted the bottle to his mouth and took a long swallow, then he coughed as the fiery liquid burnt a path down his throat.
After a few moments, when he could breathe again, he sat up and wiped his streaming eyes then gave a satisfied smile. That had gone well, the thought. He had sent the big, self-opinionated elder away with his tail between his legs and he was very proud of himself. Then something occurred to him.
‘What harm would it do for the tenants to see me?’he thought suddenly.‘It will give them a chance to see their Laird and master and perhaps have some more respect for me.’
Having thought about it for a few more moments, he decided to do it. He left the castle on average once a week, and then only to meet and carouse with friends at Mulrigg House, one of their homes. This was also where he met and bedded many of his female conquests. He liked to think he was a good lover, but in reality he was a laughing stock, nearly always too drunk to do his duty.
His excursion was greeted with some surprise by the stable hands, who had saddled his horse for him only two days before. However, his horse was swiftly readied and he cantered away into the village with four guards as escorts.
* * *
Minna had watched the arrival of Alan Darroch and wondered who he was. He was well and expensively dressed and carried himself with an air of assurance that marked him out as a man of some consequence. She had debated about whether to go downstairs and introduce herself to him.
“Should I go and present myself to him, Lorna?” she asked her friend. “I am sure he is going to see Jamie and I don’t want him to think that the whole family is like my brother.”
Lorna thought for a moment, then nodded. “Aye, it might be a good idea, hen,” she agreed. “It cannae dae any harm, an’ if he is a person o’ any importance it might actually dae some good.”
Accordingly, Minna put on one of her best day dresses. A modestly cut blue woolen one that brought out the color of her eyes, descended the staircase, then walked sedately towards her brother’s study, greeting staff as she went.
“Do you know who that important-looking man is, Gerald?” she asked the butler.
“He told me it was Alan Darroch, an elder o’ the clan, Mistress Minna,” he replied respectfully.
Minna thanked him and went to wait outside Jamie’s study, but halfway down the passageway that led to it she was almost knocked over by a tall, dark man in his middle years. He had such a furious expression on his face that as Minna stumbled she widened her eyes in fear.
Presently, however, the man grabbed her wrists and steadied her. He looked ashamed, and as she dusted herself down he began to apologize profusely. “Forgive me, Mistress,” he said regretfully. “I was not looking where I was going. Are you hurt?”
Minna gave him a dazzling smile, and Alan Darroch smiled back, slightly bemused. Who was this beautiful woman?
“I am fine, thank you,” she replied. “Were you here to see my brother?”
“You are the Laird’s sister?” he asked in disbelief.
“I see you have met him.” Minna’s tone was sarcastic.
“Yes,” Darroch nodded, then paused before saying anything else. He did not wish to make matters worse. “We spoke. I am sorry, I was forgetting my manners.”
“Tell me what he said, if you don’t mind,” Minna urged. “Judging by the look on your face it was not anything pleasant.”
As she spoke, she was leading him towards a small parlor where a cozy fire was burning. “Ale, wine or whisky?” she asked as she ushered him into a seat.
“I have already refused whisky,” he replied, shaking his head, “so ale would be wonderful. I have a mighty thirst.”