Scotch Rising by S. J. Garland Page A

ye must join us again soon. I want tae hear more of the enterprises in Boston and how one might invest in them.”
    I stood out of respect for the older man. “Thank you, Magnus, for welcoming me to your table and to the whole village. It has been a privilege. I am sure our paths will cross soon.”
    Beathan and I watched Magnus disappear through the drawing room door. The clock on the mantelpiece indicated the lateness of the hour. “I should make my way home, I am sure you have early mornings down at Deoch. I heard the steam whistle this morning calling the workers.”
    “Ye are correct, Captain, however I dinnae think one last tipple will do either of us any harm.” Beathan filled my glass before I thought to protest. “Besides, much time has passed since this table witnessed such animated conversation. I need tae apologise fur my sister’s rudeness earlier.”
    Cringing at the mention of the scene I orchestrated. “Please, Beathan, the discord was my own doing,” the Scotch, wine and rich food worked together to calm my otherwise aggressive disposition of late. My mood much more mellow, allowing for confidences. “My wife is a sore topic and unfortunately it is one many do not understand. Perhaps I do not even comprehend it myself.”
    Swirling the Scotch in his glass to create reflections on the white linen tablecloth, Beathan grimaced and finally looked up. “My sister possesses a good heart, however she is stubborn, wilful and far too confident of herself. All products of my faither’s indulgence and my late mother’s failed attempts tae turn her intae a lady. Phil made it her life’s occupation tae resist every plan my mother set fur her.” Beathan laughed lightly before taking a drink. “As a bairn, I watched with amusement as Phil got booted out of nae one but three finishing schools. After my mother’s death, none dared mention she attend another or even spoke of her having a season and finding a husband.”
    Never having known a true family, my parents long dead and my uncle only condescending to participate in the barest of contacts for most of my life. I felt unable to truly appreciate the frustration Beathan spoke of concerning his sister’s non-conformity. In an effort to raise the other man’s spirits, I raised my glass. “Family is something I have wished for my whole life, rather a disobedient sister than none at all.”
    The bleary-eyed expression I received from Beathan made me regret the attempt before he swallowed the rest of his Scotch. I did the same and stood. “I must be away, it would not do for me to fall asleep under the table and create a scandal as a representative of Her Majesty.”
    Blood rushed to my temples as I stood. I had to close my eyes for a moment. I could see slight points of light dancing around before I caught my breath. I looked over at Beathan, who appeared to be in the same predicament. “I think it is going to be an interesting walk back to the cottage this evening.”
    Leading the way out of the dining room, through the empty drawing room, Beathan chuckled. “Nae much of interest ever happens in Markinch as I’ve told ye before, Captain. However if you’re a wee bit intae yer cups I can hae a cart pulled around fur ye.”
    “I assure you. I am quite capable of making my own way home,” inwardly rebelling at the thought of being too incapacitated to walk home. “I think the drink might have addled your wits. Have I changed into an old lady in the past hour?”
    “Now ye hae put the thought in my head.” Beathan paused a moment for effect, scratching his chin and narrowing his eyes while giving me a thorough look over. “I think ye might hae an extremely bonnie figure in a frock, delicate ankles.”
    A moment’s pause passed between the two of us as we eyed each other, before we burst into loud guffaws of laughter. I doubled up with my hands on my thighs. I felt tears streaming down my face. I could hear Beathan fighting for breath, the pair of us