Scotch Swords, Muskets and Love

“The very night after I'd received it from Lord MacNally.”

Susan shook her head and narrowed her eyes.

“He must have taken it. Think about it! He lends you money, against which you sign your lands as surety. Then, the same night that he gives you the loan, someone steals the money. You have no way to repay him, since you haven't even had time to get your business off the ground – which is why you had to take the loan in the first place – so, with no other option available, you have to give him your land. If he sent a thief to steal his money back from you, then he's essentially keeping his gold and getting your land for free!”

Robert sat bolt upright in his chair. His face first went pale, and then his cheeks became flushed with a red, glowing rage. He slammed a heavy fist down on the table and jumped up to his feet.

“That bastard!” he roared. “That lying, cheating, thieving bastard!”

“I'm so sorry,” said Susan softly. “But if you think about it, it makes perfect sense.”

Robert nodded, his face still a stormy mask of rage.

“Aye lass, it does. It makes absolute sense. And it's just the sort of trick that dodgy Lord MacNally would pull. In fact, I'm sure I'm not the only victim of his. This 'loan and steal' operation must be how he's managing to expand his land empire so quickly.”

“The problem, Robert, is that we have no way to prove this. The theory makes perfect sense, but without proof, we are powerless to act against MacNally and Seamas.”

“Then what we need is proof, right?”

“Right.”

“But... how?”

They both sat in silence at the table for a while, thinking about this. Then, a realization began to dawn on Susan. She did have a way to get some sort of proof, but she didn't like what it would involve. However, the more she thought about it, the more it seemed like it would be the only way to find out the truth of the matter. She took one more sip of whiskey before she shot an intense gaze directly into Robert's eyes.

“There is one way that I can get proof. It's not guaranteed to work... And it's going to involve me doing something I really, really don't want to do... But for the cause of justice and righteousness, I'm prepared to do it.”

Robert sat down and locked his eyes into hers.

“You're a brave lass, Susan. And I'll owe you a greater debt than I can ever repay if you can help me get my land back. Let's hear your plan.”

With that, Susan began to explain what she was going to do.

CHAPTER 4

The bartender stood slumped over in the corner, half-asleep on his feet. He had no idea what time it was; all that he cared about was going to sleep – but he couldn't yet, not with Seamas McSwiggan and all his friends carousing and carrying on with no signs of slowing down. One of them had found bagpipes, and another had retrieved a drum, and now they were dancing around the tavern and making a terrible noise. Still, their gold was good, and they weren't shy about throwing it around. This night, as painful as it was, would make him more than his tavern usually made in two weeks.

Eventually, the song faded out, and with much mirth and laughter Seamas and his friends retired to their tables to continue drinking. Most of them were well-inebriated now, and glassy-eyed from the drink. Seamas, however, could handle his drink with the strength of an ogre; it seemed he could consume three times as much alcohol as any other man and still remain standing. He sauntered up to the bar, swaggering with arrogance.

“Barkeep!” he shouted, rousing the chubby old fellow from his half-slumber, “I need more whiskey, and I need it now! On your feet, grandpa! My friends and I are both thirsty and impatient!”

Tonight he had a fresh girl hanging on his arm; this one was a platinum blonde with alabaster-pale skin and light blue eyes, and she looked no older than seventeen. Seamas's taste in women seemed to be verging on those of a younger and younger age these days. It was apparent that this girl had never had alcohol before; she was beyond the point of inebriation, and could hardly stand without swaying and lurching and mumbling incoherently, but still Seamas kept plying her with drink, staring at her body, which was barely-concealed beneath a thin, flimsy dress, all the while with his hungry wolf-eyes.