Wicked Laird (Brethren of Stone 2)

Elle pointed at a cottage. “Stop here, this is Mr. Finnerty. He’s been without a job for three months or more.”

“Who did he work for before?” Blair asked.

Elle looked back at him, her eyebrows up. “McKenzie, of course.”

Blair gave her a small smile. That would work all the better for him.

They tied their horse to the post and then Blair knocked on the door. He wrapped his arm about Elle and pulled her to his side.

An older man opened the door, two teen-age boys behind him. “Hello?” he asked gruffly.

Blair scanned the man in front of him. His clothes were well kept but they had patches in several places. “Hello, I’m Laird Sinclair.”

“Elle.” The man turned to his lovely bride. “Good tae see ye looking so healthy. Where is Ailean?”

Elle gave the man a friendly smile. “Thank ye, Mr. Finnerty. He’s down south with friends.”

“Glad to hear it,” Mr. Finnerty gave Elle a warm smile. Blair knew that Elle had chosen well for their first person to ask.

“Mr. Finnerty,” Blair began. “I’ve a job I’d like tae offer ye.”

The other man’s eyes narrowed. “Doin’ what?”

“Tae start, buiding docks. But I aim to open a branch to my brother’s shipping company, so once the docks are built, there will be jobs for anyone who wants it.”

“Who is yer brother?” Mr. Finnerty asked.

“He’s the Earl of Alban,” Blair answered, standing straighter. He didn’t want to rely on his brother but, he reminded himself, it wasn’t just about him anymore.

“The Earl of Alban,” Mr. Finnerty whispered. “Will he help us if times get rough with—”

“He’s already sent men, money, and supplies. He’ll send more if we need it.” Blair swallowed his pride. He wanted to be enough but that would come in time. Right now, these people needed to ken they’d be safe.

“Is this offer only fer me, or could my sons work too? We’re behind and I could use…” Mr. Finnerty trailed off.

“It’s an offer for any able-bodied man willing to work. That includes yer sons.” Blair reached out his hand. “Work begins first thing tomorrow. For this first week, I’ll pay wages at the end of each day.” Blair knew how desperate many of the villagers were. “After that, it’ll be every Friday.”

Mr. Finnerty nodded. “Thank ye, my lord.”

“Mr. Finnerty.” Elle stepped forward. “I’ve some ideas about who to hire, but is there anyone else ye think we should ask?”

“We?” Mr. Finnerty’s eyes darted between the two of them.

Elle blushed. “We’re married.”

A broad smile broke across his face. “I’m glad to hear it, lass. Ye deserve it.” Then he rattled off several names.

Blair thanked him and then he and Elle climbed back on his horse. “Where to next?” he asked.

She pointed down the street. “There.”

He gave her a tiny squeeze. “Yer doing a fine job.”

She turned to him, her face flushed, even as she tried to hide her grin. “Ye won’t regret marrying me, Blair.”

One eye squinted as he cocked his head to the side. “Of course I won’t.”

She looked away again, her breath catching. “The next house is Ewan McPherson’s. He’s strong as an ox but can be a bit forgetful. Hard working though and kind.”