Kathleen took off, racing around the corner of the building.
“We’ve got to get this bloody fire out before the casks go up,” Graeme said.
“Do we have enough equipment for a bucket brigade?” Grant asked.
“Aye, but not enough to get around from the stream to the front of the building. We’ve got to get that back door open.”
“Agreed. But it’s damn close to the fire. It’ll be hot as Hades, and I doubt the key will even work in the lock.”
Graeme shoved a frustrated hand through his hair, making it stand straight up. “It’s a bloody sturdy door. We’ll have to take that axe to it, and then kick it open.”
They could now hear shouts from the front of the building. Sabrina came pelting around the corner to join them, the greatcoat over her gown flapping out behind her. When she reached them, she bent over, gasping to catch her breath.
Graeme crouched down beside her. “Love, are you all right?”
“I . . . I just ran the whole way, that’s all.” She straightened up with a grimace. “Angus says the fire is getting close to the casks.“
Graeme nodded. “We’re going to get this door open. Tell Angus to bring the men back here with the buckets.”
“What about Jeannie and Adams?” Grant asked Sabrina.
“The captain was bringing Jeannie down when I arrived,” she said.
“Good. Now hurry and get Angus and the others, all right?” Graeme said.
Sabrina threw her arms around Graeme’s neck. “You be careful, husband.”
“I’ll take care of him,” Grant promised.
“You’d best, or I’ll murder you both.” Then Sabrina raced back the way she came.
“Bloodthirsty lass,” Grant commented.
“She learned it from me,” his twin replied as he studied the back door. He carefully touched it and yanked his hand back. “Hot as hell, as predicted.”
“Remember how we got into the kirk at Kinglas? We’ll need to do it like that, I reckon.”
When they were sixteen, they’d broken into the local kirk to raid the collection plate. It was a prank, and they’d always intended to return the money. The vicar had caught them dead-to-rights as they kicked in the lock on the back door.
Graeme snorted. “Aye. I’ll use that axe you’ve got on the lock.”
Grant handed it over. “Might be a backwash once we get the blasted thing open, so be prepared.”
His twin nodded and then swung the axe in a mighty heave at the door handle. The blow knocked the door handle off, and hopefully broke the lock.
“Ready?” Graeme asked, glancing at Grant.
Grant nodded, and they positioned themselves, side by side, a few feet from the door.
“Count of three,” Graeme said.
He counted off. Then, as one, they took flying kicks at the wide wooden door.
It gave, crashing inward. A blast of heat and smoke rushed over them as they both fell flat on their backs in the dirt.
For a moment, Grant lay stunned, trying to collect both his breath and his wits.
“Lads, are ye all right?”
Grant took his grandfather’s hand and scrambled up, while Dickie assisted Graeme to his feet. They turned, gazing into the flames.
Graeme started to talk, but broke off with a cough.
“The buckets, Grandda,” Grant hoarsely ordered.
“Aye.”
Within moments, the men formed a line from the stream to the back door, mostly staff from the manor. They began passing buckets along to Graeme, who stood by the door ready to heave in the water.
“Grandda, we need more men and buckets,” Grant said as he handed a full pail to his brother.
“We’ve got plenty of men. Not sure about the buckets.”
“Go see. We can get a second brigade through the back window.”
Sabrina came hurrying back. “Jeannie and Adams are both safe. Kathleen and Captain Brown are taking them to the manor.”
“Have one of the footmen go with them,” Graeme said. “Davey, if he’s free.”
Sabrina frowned but went off to do as he asked.
Grant exchanged a glance with his twin as he handed him a bucket. Clearly, neither of them trusted the captain, but that was a discussion for later. Now that everyone was out of danger, they had to focus on keeping Graeme and Sabrina’s investment—and the hope of future prosperity for Dunlaggan—from being completely lost to the flames.
Angus returned with men who quickly formed a second water line. Magnus came with him, carrying what looked to be a pile of blankets.
“I’m goin’ to soak yon blankets and throw them over the bigger casks,” he yelled to Graeme. “Them casks are too big to move without puttin’ the men in danger.”
“Aye, that,” Graeme called back.
In grim silence they worked, staff from the manor and men from the village working hard and efficiently. It was brutal and desperate, and Grant lost track of time. Smoke billowed as water doused flames, all but choking them. But still they kept on.
After what seemed a lifetime, the fire appeared finally beaten. Graeme wrapped a kerchief around his face and went farther inside for a look.
“All right, lads,” he called. “It’s all out.”
The men dropped their buckets, and most sank to the ground. A few staggered to the stream to splash water over their heads.
“As bad as it looks?” Grant asked as his brother came out.
“A bloody mess, but we’ll have to go around front to get a better look before we know how bad.”
As they walked around the front of the building, Grant felt someone had pummeled him.
“God, I could use a drink,” he rasped out. “Got any whisky about the place?”
His twin’s derisive snort turned into a cough.
As they came around the corner, Sabrina rushed over and threw herself into her husband’s arms.
“Lass,” he protested, “I smell like the depths of hell.”
“I don’t care,” she said in a muffled voice. “As long as you’re all right.”
“Och, I’m fine.”
She raised her head to look at Grant. “And you?”
“We’re both fine.”
“And ye saved the building,” Angus said, clapping Graeme on the shoulder.
Magnus emerged from the front door, his face as grimy as his clothing.
“How bad is it?” Graeme asked.
“The stills are ruined, sir, and God knows what the heat did to the brew in the casks.”
“What about the building?”
“From what I can tell at first look, the staircase is fair wrecked, but the structure seems solid. Nae that canna be fixed, thank the guid Lord.”
Graeme heaved a sigh. “And no one was hurt, which is most important.”
Magnus looked down at the ground. “I’m right sorry, Sir Graeme. I shoulda been more careful, what with all that’s been goin’ on.”
“None of this is your fault, Magnus,” Graeme said.
Sabrina patted the big man’s arm. “Indeed, no. Who could ever imagine someone could do something so dreadful?”
Graeme muttered a curse.
His twin’s bleak expression made Grant want to put a fist through a wall. Graeme and Sabrina had worked so hard, and now this, on top of everything else?
“It’s time we run that someone to ground,” he said, grasping Graeme’s shoulder. “Once and bloody for all.”
Chapter Twenty
Sabrina looked up from the stack of mail by her plate as Kathleen entered the breakfast parlor. “There you are. Did you get any sleep last night?”
Kathleen headed straight for the coffeepot that beckoned from the mahogany sideboard. “A bit. Jeannie wanted to sleep with me but insisted that Mrs. Wiggles join us. I can tell you with absolute certainly that your cat came honestly by her name.”
“Oh, dear.” Sabrina crinkled her nose. “She must have been covered in soot.”
“We trie
d to wipe her down, but Mrs. Wiggles preferred to clean herself—for half the night. I know because she was sitting on my legs for most of it.”
Sabrina looked torn between exasperation and amusement. “Kath, you should have put the dratted thing out in the hall.”
“Hannah conveyed that message quite emphatically when she saw the state of my bed linens this morning.”
“The whole house is in an uproar, I’m afraid. But that’s no reason for you to put up with one of Hannah’s scolds or our ridiculous cat.”
Kathleen took a seat across from her. “I rather enjoy Hannah’s scolds. They’re colorful. And I truly don’t think I would have slept much, anyway, after all that commotion.”
Commotion that included a stimulating encounter with Grant in the gazebo.
Sabrina grimaced. “What a dreadful visit this is turning out to be for you. I do apologize, dearest. I cannot imagine what you must think of us.”
Kathleen pointed a finger at her. “Sabrina Kendrick, don’t you dare apologize. You’re in the middle of a crisis, and our presence has caused one complication after another.”
“At least I don’t think we’ll have to worry about our vicar. After that scene in the study, I shouldn’t be surprised if the poor man went home, packed his bags, and left Dunlaggan with all speed.”
“Another bad outcome you can lay at my door.”
Sabrina scoffed. “It’s just stuff and nonsense, especially compared to our other problems.”
Kathleen glanced at the clock when it chimed out the hour. “I take it the men are already back at the distillery?”
“Yes. Graeme and Grant left at first light, and Angus shortly thereafter. The twins wanted to have a good look around the place in the daytime, to see if they could find any clues.”
“Any real chance of that?”
“Graeme thinks it doubtful, given how carefully these bounders covered their tracks. But he needed to get a work crew organized for repairs, as well.”
Kathleen squeezed her cousin’s hand. “I’m so sorry, old girl.”
“Truly, I feel the worst for poor Magnus. He was devastated. Most of the last distillation was ruined, I’m afraid.” Sabrina shook her head. “And I’ve never seen my husband as furious as he was over the danger to Jeannie and Adams.”
“I cannot say that I blame Graeme, which brings me to my next point.”
“You wish to return to Glasgow with Jeannie.” Sabrina nodded. “I’ll miss you, of course, but it’s perfectly understandable.”
Kathleen shook her head. “I have no intention of abandoning you. I’m only surprised your husband hasn’t loaded you and Gus into the carriage already.”
“He did try that on last night until I made the case that we would be perfectly safe as long as we didn’t stray beyond the gardens. Besides, I have no intention of deserting my people in the middle of this uproar.”
“Graeme actually accepted that?” Kathleen skeptically asked.
Sabrina wrinkled her nose. “Not immediately. But Grant backed me up, thank goodness. He’s very good at calming my Highland warrior’s agitation down to a dull roar.”
“He’s very good at a lot of things.”
When Sabrina’s eyebrows ticked up, Kathleen hastily went on.
“But it’s Jeannie I want to talk to you about. If she would truly listen to me, it might not be a problem to let her stay. But as it is . . .”
“But surely she’ll listen to you now, after last night.”
“Maybe, but it won’t last.” Kathleen felt sure of that. “I do think she must go home to London.”
“Have you discussed it with her?”
“I thought I would do it over breakfast.”
Sabrina chuckled. “With me providing cover?”
“Sorry,” Kathleen sheepishly replied.
“Don’t be. It makes perfect sense. And here she is now,” Sabrina brightly added as the door opened and Jeannie shuffled in. “Good morning, my dear. I hope you slept well.”
The girl sat in the chair next to Kathleen, looking pale and wan.
“Not really.” Jeannie took a scone from the generous plate of pastries. “I couldn’t help worrying about David. He must be terribly upset about last night. Captain Brown said he would make sure to tell him that I wasn’t injured.”
Argh.
Kathleen forced a calm reply. “That was very kind of the captain, but I hardly think the vicar’s feelings is the worst of our problems at the moment.”
Jeannie paused while ladling marmalade onto her scone. “What are you talking about, Kath?”
“The fire, pet. You could have been killed.”
“It wasn’t my fault, though,” her sister protested. “I had no idea that was going to happen.”
“Of course not, but you left the house without telling me. There are very dangerous men about, Jeannie. And they are doing dreadful things. You cannot be wandering about on your own.”
Her sister’s chin went up in a familiar mutinous tilt. “It’s just a short walk to the distillery, and nothing happened on the way there.”
“True, but you could have been seriously hurt, dearest,” Kathleen said. “Can you imagine how our parents would feel if anything happened to you?”
“But nothing did. And I’m fine.”
“Yes, but—”
“I’m fine.”
Kathleen was beginning to hate that phrase.
“I think what we’re trying to say, dear,” Sabrina said, “is that it might be time for you to return to London. The situation here is quite volatile.”
Jeannie put down her knife. “Are you going back to London, Kath?”
Kathleen fixed her with a firm gaze. “No. Sabrina needs my help.”
“Then I’m staying, too,” Jeannie said.
“Dearest, that’s not a very sensible—”
“Well, if it’s not sensible for me to stay, then it’s not sensible for you to stay,” her sister retorted.
“It’s different, Jeannie. As I said, Sabrina needs me. Besides, I’m older.”
Her sister bolted up. “I can help too, Kath. I’m not stupid, you know. Stop treating me like I’m just a little girl.”
Kathleen also rose. “Of course you’re not a little girl. But at the moment you’re rather acting like one.”
When Jeannie began to argue, Kathleen held up a hand. “This is not up for discussion. In the absence of our parents, I am your guardian. And it’s best you return to London.”
Her sister’s glare was hot enough to singe Kathleen’s eyebrows. “I’m not leaving and you can’t make me.”
“Dearest, please be re—”
Jeannie stamped her foot. “No! I’m not leaving David, and nothing you can say will change my mind.”
And with that, she stormed out of the room.
“Oh, Lord.” Kathleen sank back into her chair. “Do you think it’s too early to have a drink?”
Sabrina grimaced in sympathy. “At this rate, I might very well join you.”
* * *
Rather than take refuge in a morning tipple, Kathleen had turned to the garden. She’d mulched vegetable beds, sorted herbs for drying, and carted dirt back and forth in a wheelbarrow. Though one of the stable boys had offered to help, she’d needed the hard work to keep her mind off what to do with her stubborn little sister and what to do with Grant Kendrick.
The first problem was immediate and evoked anxious frustration. That Jeannie was as out of control as a wobbly top had been amply demonstrated by last night’s events. The only realistic way to keep her sister from harm was to get her back to London and under Helen’s watchful eye. But short of tying Jeannie up and sitting on her for the entire trip, Kathleen very much doubted she would prevail.
She knelt down on the grass verge to yank out an especially recalcitrant beetroot and then tossed it into the wheelbarrow.
“Face it, old girl,” she muttered to herself, “you’ve royally cocked it up.”
“Did you say somethin
g, Kathleen?”
She let out an exasperated sigh at the sound of the voice before looking up at the giant looming over her. The blasted man was so handsome in his riding gear, with a smile lifting the corners of his oh-so-delectable mouth, that she almost forgot to be annoyed with him.
“Sneaking up on me again, Mr. Kendrick? Such a bad habit.”
He crouched down beside her. “As I suggested last night, you should put a bell on me.”
“That wouldn’t be very practical for someone skulking about after various and sundry villains, now would it?”
“You have me there, lass.”
She eyed him. Despite the warmth of his expression, she could see the fatigue in his eyes and the lines of worry around his mouth.
“I take it you’ve been doing just that this morning,” she said.
“Yes, without much success. Graeme and I went over the scene very thoroughly but found little that could point us in the right direction.” He grimaced. “Or any direction.”
“I’m sorry. It must be so frustrating.”
“Especially for my brother. He’s ready to go on a rampage. Stealing, vandalism, and even a highway robbery are significantly different from arson.”
“I’m sure Graeme is very grateful to have your help and support.”
“He is. Not that I’ve been able to do much thus far.”
She glanced down at his feet. “It seems you’ve been out scouring meadow and glen, though. Getting rather muddy, if your boots are any indication.”
“I was following a set of fresh footprints along the stream and then through a barley field behind one of the tenant farms. Turns out they belonged to the farmer’s son.”
She gave him a gentle poke on his brawny bicep. “Surely you’re not giving up? That’s not the Kendrick way, from what I understand.”
“No, it’s not. I only returned to the manor because bad weather is heading our way.”
She hadn’t noticed until now the dark storm clouds gathering over the craggy peaks in the distance. “That does look quite ugly.”
“Quite. We’ve got a few hours before it hits, but I figured there was no point getting caught in the middle of it. I’ll go back out again once it’s passed.”
“Well,” she said, “I suppose I should start cleaning all this up then.”
Grant rose and helped her to stand. “We could take shelter in the gazebo.”
The Highlanderâ??s Irish Bride Page 27
