* * *
Minna woke up at a leisurely pace next morning, stretching and yawning before she opened her eyes as Lorna drew the curtains and the bright daylight stabbed her eyes.
“Good mornin’!” Lorna handed Minna a mug of warm tea before standing back and folding her arms over her chest and glaring at her. “Ye know it was nearly daylight before ye came in this mornin’?”
Minna rubbed her eyes before sipping the warm tea. “I know, Lorna, but there was so much to do, and everybody wanted to talk. I could not just run away.” She gave an angry sigh then cried out in pain as she tried to run her hands backwards through her tangled brown hair, catching the knots in her fingers.
Lorna shook her head, exasperated. “Ye cannae keep daein’ this,” she grumbled as she teased the tangles from Minna’s hair. “Ye are becomin’ a danger tae yourself an’ if that brother o’ yours finds out, there will be hell tae pay!”
Minna thumped her fist on the bedside table in a gesture of fury and frustration. “Then who will feed the people of Cairndene?” she demanded. “Must they go to the pig troughs? I am sure those animals eat better than many of the tenants of this estate. As well as that, they are all dressed in rags. Summer is coming, but that is a small blessing. We still have cold weather even then. I have no idea what to do, Lorna. The church will help, of course, and Reverend Patterson does his best, but neither of us can work miracles. Sometimes I feel like killing Jamie. I am ashamed to feel that way, but I can't help it. If we used the money he wastes on whisky to buy food, we could feed so many people!”
Suddenly she stopped and raised a finger in the air, smiling as an idea occurred to her. “The wine cellar! Lorna - do you know how much money is invested in those bottles? Some of it is twenty years old and there are hundreds of bottles.” Her face was euphoric.
“But Mistress,” Lorna said thoughtfully, frowning. “Will he no’ notice that they are disappearin’?”
“Hmm…” Minna thought for a moment. “He rarely drinks wine, and keeps it only to impress guests, so I doubt that he will miss it at first. However, to be on the safe side we can buy a few bottles of very cheap stuff to fill up the shelves. We will be losing very little by doing that.”
Lorna nodded slowly. “Who will ye sell it tae?”
“One of myacquaintances,Minna said cryptically, tapping the side of her nose as she gave Lorna a wicked smile. “He will not give us top prices, but he will ask no questions and he will not betray me.”
Lorna had just opened her mouth to ask another question when there was a knock at the door and Minna’s copper bath was brought in. Two maids filled it with hot water, and as Minna looked at the steaming tub, she could not help thinking how the villagers and tenants would enjoy one of these. She felt wretched and ashamed for living in the lap of luxury while poor people starved.
“This man sounds a wee bit dishonest,” Lorna observed as she poured water over Minna’s long, golden brown hair. “A bit on the shady side if ye ask me.”
Minna laughed softly as she looked at her friend. Lorna was a handsome woman for her age. She quite often kept her luxuriant fair hair tucked into a scarf because she could not bear the sight of the gray strands that were beginning to peek through.
Her eyes were the color of the sea on a cloudy day, and many men would have envied her physique, for she had not an ounce of fat anywhere, only lean muscle. However, she was by no means masculine, as her generous curves showed. She was a widow, but she had scorned many suitors after the death of her husband, since he had been the love of her life. Her only regret was that they had not been blessed with children.
“I don’t know about that,” Minna remarked, shrugging. “I have heard that he deals with smugglers, but I have no idea if that is true, but unless he is killing or taking from poor people I don’t care. I have no reason to believe that he does either of those things, though.”
Lorna looked at her doubtfully. “Ye are takin’ too many risks, Mistress.”
“I have to.” Minna’s voice was firm. “No one else will do it, Lorna, and it needs to be done.”
Lorna sighed. “I know, an’ ye are a good lass, but ye take too many chances. Jamie -”
“Is my brother, not my keeper,” Minna growled. “As I have told you many times before, Lorna. He does not own me and I do not answer to him. However, the best thing I can do for the villagers and tenants is to keep out of his sight as much as I can. I have managed to avoid him these last two days, but I think a third is too much to hope for.” She sighed and stood up, then Lorna helped her into a plain gray day dress which did not flatter her at all. But then, she thought, she was not in the business of looking beautiful all the time. She looked down at the filthy brown breeches she had just taken off.
“Can you have this washed and given to the seamstress, Lorna?” she asked.
“There is still plenty of wear in them. I think she could make it into a few wee girls’ dresses.”
Lorna smiled at her. “Aye, Mistress, an’ I will gie her one o’ my dresses. I have plenty tae spare.”
Minna smiled at her, took one last glance into the mirror, then turned and squared her shoulders. “Here I go, Lorna,” she said grimly, “into the lion’s den. Wish me luck!”
“Good luck, hen!” Lorna said, with a heartfelt sigh. “Ye will need it!
3
Minna took one step through the dining room door and sighed. Jamie, her brother, was sprawled backwards inelegantly over a chair with one foot on the floor and another on the table. There was a string of saliva dripping from his open mouth onto the left side of his jacket, and he was snoring loudly enough to wake the dead. His arms were hanging over the arms of the seat and there was an empty tumbler on the costly carpet beside him, its contents spilled in a pool that had soaked into its woolen pile. A pungent smell of whisky filled the air.
Minna stood looking at him for a moment in disgust and was just about to sneak out and ask for a tray in her room when Jamie gave a fearfully loud snort. Minna put a hand over her mouth to stop herself laughing at what happened next.
Jamie jumped in fright, suddenly wide awake, and looked around in panic, then his eyes fixed on Minna and he glared at her from under his dark brows, his face a mask of anger.
Minna sighed inwardly. On mornings like this he always woke up like a wounded bear. He sat up, his movements painful and stiff before he winced and put a hand to his forehead, groaning.