Page 6 of Highlander’s Lust
He hid it well, but Charlie was angry at being disturbed. As soon as the wake was over, he would have to take up the mantle of lairdship and all of the many duties it entailed: rent collecting, lawmaking, holding gatherings, the hiring of new staff, and the pensioning off of the old. As irritating and unnecessary as he found those things, Charlie realized he would even have to travel to Holyrood to pay his respects and swear allegiance to the king’s incumbent there. It was all bound to be boring and dull.
The thought of all these dreary duties irked Charlie. When he saw the merchant waiting for him in the courtyard, he could not help himself from taking his frustrations out on the man.
“So! Ye want a draft on me bank as payment for five hundred lanterns, do ye?”
The man nodded and smiled, not realizing his lairdship’s question had been a rhetorical one.
“Where are me other five hundred lanterns?! Ye fool! How am I to make a good showing for me faither’s friends and allies with such a scant amount of lighting?”
The man cowered back. Charlie was tall and muscular, and the scowl on his face looked threatening. Sorley grabbed the young man’s arm and hauled him back.
“I can see ye’re more than qualified to continue in the way yer faither conducted his business, however...I must humbly ask that ye refrain from frightening the merchants, Charlie! It’s all very well to shout at folk when one is five and a half feet tall, fat as a flawn, and elderly—yer faither never scared anyone because he resembled a tub o’ lard—but ye are a well-known Highland warrior, lad! Show some restraint! If ye dinnae respect yer subordinates, how d’ye expect them to respect ye in return?”
Charlie had to admit his steward was right. The poor merchant looked terrified. What a picture he must be presenting—unbuttoned shirt and dark tangled hair falling down his back. He turned to ask Sorley, “Do we have spare rushlights?”
The steward nodded.
“Good, then pay this man what he is owed. Send the draft over to me for signing. I’ll be at the tavern with Gavin MacTavish.”
And on those words, Laird Charles Brisbane pivoted on his heel and walked back into the great hall, calling for the footman to bring him a coat and for the groom to saddle a horse for him to ride into the village.
