“That is a fair question,” she replied with a nod. “You Scots are too proud to accept help from anyone. In fact, you’d rather cut off your nose to spite your face.”
Ewan chuckled. “Och, aye.”
“But there are women and children to think about, not to mention injured soldiers whose wounds will never heal sufficiently to allow them back into military service. The sick and the elderly. What is to happen to them if we do not extend a hand to help? My husband and I are not offering charity, but only hoping to provide the means for them to survive. These are your countrymen. All I am asking for is ten sheep to get them started.”
“And compete with my woolen prices?”
“You are a three day journey from the English border. Any wool produced by them would be sold no further north than Moffat. In all likelihood, they would go south to sell their wool in the English cities of Carlisle and Chester where they can command higher prices. They would not be competing with you at all. I understand you sell your wool in Glasgow and Aberdeen.”
“Who told ye that?”
She shrugged. “One hears things.”
He scowled. “Ye’ve been poking yer pert, little nose in my business and I dinna like it.”
She cleared her throat. “And I would require another ten sheep for me.”
Mr. Campbell emitted a bark of laughter. “For ye, lass? What use would ye have for my sheep?”
“I intend them as a gift to the Thorne family, in gratitude for all they have done for me.”
He arched a thick, gray eyebrow. “And what is it they’ve done for ye, Mrs. Thorne?”
“Saved my life,” she said with a wealth of feeling, surprising even herself when tears suddenly formed in her eyes. “Oh, dear.”
She quickly wiped them away.
Ewan cast her a worried glance. “Yer driver, Mr. Henshaw, told my aunt what happened to ye. Ye were indeed brave, Mrs. Thorne.”
“Her? Brave?” Mr. Campbell sighed. “Come in, lass. You too, Ewan. I’ll put on some water for tea and ye’ll tell me what happened to ye.”
She understood that honesty was the only way to be with him, so she related a shortened account of Sir Henry’s obsession with her, omitting mention of Mr. Douglas having shot the villain because it was sufficient to relate that he’d met a just end after his attempt to harm her. She also mentioned her worries about her missing father. However, she made no mention of her marriage to Octavian being a sham.
That was no one’s business but hers and Octavian’s.
In truth, she and Octavian cared for each other deeply. If not for this looming fear she had that something dreadful was going to happen to destroy their chance at happiness, she would have grabbed onto him with both hands and continued to hold onto him with all her heart and all her might until her dying breath.
“Others have suffered far worse than me,” she said, bringing an end to the abbreviated tale. “But I do understand fear and despair. This is why my husband and I hope to provide help wherever we can. I am doing it with the purchase of sheep and my husband is doing it with the hope of bringing the navy shipbuilding contracts to Greenock.”
Ewan grinned at the old man. “What do ye have to say to that?”
“Mind yer business, Ewan,” he barked back. “I’ll think about it, Mrs. Thorne. But dinna get yer hopes up. Those sheep are my livelihood. I canno’ afford to give them away at any price.”
Syd tried not to look disappointed as she thanked him for his time. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Campbell.”
“And ye, Mrs. Thorne. Ye’re all right for aSassenach.”
Ewan turned to her once they were back on the road to Greenock. “Ye gave it yer best try. He hasn’t parted with a single one of his flock since he stole them out of Spain decades ago.”
Syd nodded and wrapped her newly purchased shawl tighter about her shoulders as the wind picked up and now had a decided chill to it. “Well, I got a cup of tea and shortbread out of the visit. Thank you for taking the time to escort me to his farm. Brrr, the weather turned nasty rather quickly.” She glanced up at the darkening clouds in the sky. “Will we make it back to the inn before it rains?”
“Aye, just about make it.” Ewan flicked the reins to get their horse moving at a trot.
The first raindrops fell just as Syd darted into the inn. “That was close!” she said with a laugh, greeting the innkeeper with a breathless smile.
“Och, aye. Yer husband was worried for ye.”
Her eyes widened. “He’s here?”
