Scotch Swords, Muskets and Love
Robert couldn't deny that he felt somewhat out of place here; all these Edinburgh men spoke quickly and moved about with unshakeable purpose in their step; the hustle and bustle of city life was something he felt that he could never get used to. He definitely preferred the quiet beauty and solitude of the stunning Scottish countryside, with its rolling green hills, jagged mountains and tumbling, ice-cold brooks.
He would not have much chance to enjoy that any more though; he would make one more trip back to his family's land, gather the last of his things, and then... and then, he thought with a smack of bitterness lashing its bile across the back of his tongue – he would sign the deeds that would hand the land over to Lord MacNally, and he would leave forever the land his ancestors had owned and worked on for generations.
He could hardly stomach this thought. He needed a drink, so he sidled up to the bar and pulled up a stool. The barman shuffled over to him after he had finished serving another customer at the other end of the bar, and when he spoke to Robert he wore a warm grin on his chubby, ruddy face.
“Ah, the highlander who's staying in room twelve,” he said. “Good people, you highlanders are. Far nicer than these here city folk! I grew up in the highlands, you know.”
Robert, however, was not in the mood for idle conversation.
“That's nice,” he said, rather coldly. “Listen, can I have a double whiskey please?”
The bartender frowned, seeming disappointed that his attempt to initiate conversation had been so summarily rejected.
“Alright then sir, double whiskey coming up. Anything else?”
“No, that'll be all, thanks.”
As the bartender went to prepare the drink, Robert turned and looked over his shoulder at the crowd of patrons spilling into the bar from outside. One man suddenly caught his eye, although he couldn't say why. Perhaps he had seen this fellow somewhere before? He squinted and stared more closely at the man. He was a tall and very handsome chap, and seemed to be possessed of quite a charming demeanor, He was dressed in all the over-the-top finery of an urban dandy, and hanging on his arm was a young and strikingly beautiful young lady, although the manner of her speech and mannerisms hinted that she, perhaps, was not too bright.
“Seamas McSwiggan,” she said, staring lovingly into the handsome man's eyes, “could you buy me a glass of wine, dear? Please my love, I'm so thirsty and its been such a long day of walking around and shopping!”
“Anything for you, sweet angel,” replied the handsome man, speaking with a honeyed tongue. “Go to that table over there and wait for me.”
Robert kept staring at the man, but was awoken from his trance by a tap on his forearm. He turned around, startled, and saw the bartender standing in front of him on the other side of the bar.
“Your whiskey, highlander,” he said.
“Excuse me sir,” said Robert as he handed the bartender a few coins, “but who is that man over there?”
The bartender looked at the man Robert was pointing to, and shook his head.
“Oh, that there's Seamas McSwiggan. He's a blue-blood, that one. But don't let his good looks fool you; he's a right scoundrel, I reckon. Wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him. Comes in here with a new girl every week, he does. And I know his father's rich, but god knows where he gets the money to buy these ridiculous outfits he's always wearing. He's got a new one of those every week too! I've never seen him do even an ounce of good old honest labor, so like I said, I'm not sure where he's getting the gold to throw around on women, wine and clothing, but it's coming from somewhere. Somewhere not too kosher, if you get my drift,” he said, touching the tip of his nose.
“I see,” said Robert slowly, still staring at Seamas. “I'll make sure I avoid him then. Thank you for your advice, sir.”
“Just looking out for a fellow highlander,” replied the bartender with a friendly wink as he shuffled off to serve more customers.
Robert kept on staring at Seamas, watching him coldly as the man strutted about with cocky pride, impressing almost everyone at the bar with his quick wit, hilarious observations and general attitude. Despite the man's evident popularity amongst the patrons of the bar, Robert felt that he could sense something sinister about the man. And try as he may, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen him somewhere before. But where?