Malcolm by Cathy MacRae

Author:Cathy MacRae [MacRae, Cathy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Short Dog Press
Published: 2016-01-20T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

Anger at Robert’s answer spiraled through Malcolm. Something more important than a heroic deed fueled his desire to get a complete answer. Allison’s livelihood was at stake and that meant more to him than he thought possible. “What is yer man doing?” He gave Robert a light shake to help coax an admission from him. Robert’s head snapped back on his neck.

Robert grabbed at Malcolm’s hand. “All right! Just make him stop,” he implored with a glance at Allison.

Malcolm hissed through his teeth and released the rightly-named bag of snot. Robert staggered then righted himself, jerking his jacket lapels to straighten it across his shoulders.

“Sandy has been shuffling numbers for some time now. You know, so many barrels in the warehouse, but a few extra here and there for private sale.”

Allison’s eyebrows arched upward. “I suppose those ‘private sales’ never made it to the ledger?”

“No. But I found it.” Robert’s tone bordered on boastful. Malcolm sent him a severe look and he crumpled. “Sandy was going to cut me in, but then Grandpa died and Sandy said he’d still get me my share when I was a director. You know. Under the table.” He slid Allison a resentful look.

“But Grandpa left it all to you. I got nothing. Sandy said you didn’t really want it, but when he argued with you, you fired him. And we were left with nothing.”

Malcolm risked a look at Allison.

Twin spots of color flashed high on her cheeks, her skin deathly white. Her eyes flashed. “He told me I didn’t have the guts or experience to run the distillery. I thought that rather presumptuous of him, seeing as I pretty much grew up here and can all but tell the state of the whisky with my eyes closed. But his arrogance sealed the deal. His attitude has no place here.”

Muscles worked in her jaw as she clenched her teeth and squared her shoulders. That’s my girl, Malcolm approved, then checked. My girl? Warmth stole through him and he hazarded a smile. Even though she was a Sutherland, she had spunk, and had she been born in a different century, he might have risked his father’s wrath to court her.

Had he met her in different circumstances, he would certainly risk it. As it was, Soni—and fate—had other ideas. The taste in his mouth turned sour.

Allison narrowed her eyes at Robert. “So you planned to poison the water? We would lose countless barrels. Hundreds of thousands of dollars, perhaps forcing us to close the distillery. Thankfully, nothing is processed without tasting it. Your stunt would have destroyed our inventory and taken us years to recover.”

“It wasn’t a stunt!” Robert protested. “An entire batch of whisky that tasted off would have proved to everyone you don’t have what it takes to run the distillery. It would have come to me.” He frowned. “But, I told you. I decided not to go through with it.” His sulky voice returned.

Long shadows fell across Allison’s face, lining it with disbelief, weariness and despair.

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