“Justice? The stables burned. No one knows exactly what happened, but there was an inquest. The authorities believe that a lantern must have fallen, creating an inferno. God’s will—and none can seek justice for that,” she said angrily. She could still see her uncles and cousins, deep in the most dangerous part of the shaft, digging away to save lives when even the most experienced of miners had left the caved-in section. “There was a fire, a tragic accident, and that’s that. Welcome to Craig Rock, Brother Damian. I pray you enjoy our village. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she said. Even if she hadn’t been taught to respect all religions, Shawna would have instinctively felt that she must be courteous and welcoming to any man of God, especially any pilgrim making his way through the Highlands. But this old fellow was irritating, more so due to her present circumstances.
She left him, excusing her way through the miners—who were reliving their own parts in the day’s excitement—to reach the table in the far corner of the tavern where Fergus Anderson was sitting.
Fergus had long been into his ale. He didn’t work the mines. He didn’t work at all, allowing his boys—the eldest being eighteen now and the youngest being little Daniel—to work in his stead. Fergus claimed to have hurt his leg several years ago when crawling from a tunnel. However, he hadn’t turned to farming, nor did he tend sheep or cattle. His wife and daughters grew vegetables on a plot of land they tenanted onthe far outskirts of MacGinnis holdings, and between the work of his sons and the women in his household, the family ate, and Fergus kept himself in money enough for the beer and ale that, according to him, kept him from feeling the pain that plagued his leg.
He should have had plenty of money to ease all his sorrows. He had hurt himself many years before, and David Douglas had given him an abundant allowance for living when he had claimed himself injured in the mine.
Today, he was unshaven, and though he was not covered in coal dust like the miners, he was nearly as dirty. He had dark beady eyes, silvering hair, and a florid face.
He looked up, startled, as Shawna suddenly slid next to the man on the bench across from him.
“I’ll be having no more bairns in the mines, from this day forth, Fergus Anderson.”
He seemed to note the challenge in her voice, but he answered her courteously, well aware that the tavern was filled with not only her kin, but well-toned workingmen who had admired her courage for entering the mine alongside of them.
“Ah, now, m’lady, ’tis a privileged man I am, hearing the fine likes of ye say that me lad is special and will not be lost in that black cave of dankness! But, blessed Lady Shawna! There’s many a man of us could not feed his family without the help of even his most precious, wee-est bairn!”
“You can survive quite well, Fergus.”
“Alas! Sweet lady! Y’are young and a beauty, and ye’ve never known the heartache of pain, of being a man and half a man, at that.”
“I’ll have no more little ones in the mines, Fergus.”
“Well, Lady,” he said, his fingers winding more tightly around his ale, “we’ll have to see as how that goes, eh? ’Tis myunderstanding that the Douglas is on his way from America. The decisions here will come from him now, eh?”
Shawna clenched her teeth together furiously. “I’ll give the lad work at the castle.”
Fergus arched his brow. “Ye’d have him be fetchin’ and carryin’ for ye, m’lady?”
“Aye.”
Fergus smiled broadly. “And ye’ll pay the lad well?”
“Aye.”
“Then I bow to your great wisdom, Lady MacGinnis!”
Miners were still talking around them, laughing, bragging, celebrating. Shawna no longer felt like celebrating. She stood up and hurried from the tavern.
She reached her horse when she heard her name called. She turned to see Alistair behind her.
“I’ll ride back with you,” he said.
“I’m all right.”
“Perhaps,” Alistair said. “And perhaps you should have an escort.”
“Why?”
“Intuition. Let’s get home.”
As usual, she searched her room.
Today, she was exceptionally irritated. She had never been dirtier in her life, and though she remained incredibly grateful that the miners, and especially Daniel, had survived, she remained irritated by her encounter with Fergus Anderson and maybe a little bit unnerved as well. There was something about Fergus Anderson she didn’t like. It wasn’t just that he was a lazy man who abused his family. She didn’t like the lasciviousness in his eyes or the little edge of something sinister that seemed to taint his voice.
Her encounter with Brother Damian had not pleased her either. She was annoyed that there was rumor in the countryside that the fire had been set on purpose.
Just as David believed. David, who’d managed to be in just the right place to save Danny.