Free Passion and Plaid - Her Highland Hero (Scottish Historical Romance) by Anya Karin Page B

wealthy, surely
they could pay a handsome sum for good wood.”
    “She’s a sharp one,” Duggan said, finally grinning
again. “But think of it this way – if he gives it away, ingratiates himself to
some grand shipping company, then maybe it’s an investment in the future, you
see. Another thing I should mention is that the buyer who is in town said he
works for the East India Company.”
    “You can’t be serious.”
    “Aye, but I am.”
    “Why here though? I mean, don’t they have plenty
of ships, plenty of wood?”
    “One would think. But word is a new branch of the
Company is opening to specialize in Caribbean trade. Maybe he means to start a
relationship?”
    “The Caribbean...” Kenna trailed off. “Pirates,
Jamaica, and all that. Why is the mayor of a little part of Scotland getting involved
in this?”
    “I couldna guess. It has occurred to me though
that Willard is trying to get in the Company’s good graces. Mayhap for an
appointment to the board? If he proves that he can run a plantation here, why
couldn’t he run one in Jamaica? Barbados?”
    The thought made Kenna shudder. Precious little
news got back to Scotland about the islands, but what she knew, she remembered
from hearing her father speak of it. He was afraid that if the British were
allowed to control Scotland, that it would become “another Jamaica,” he said. “With
the Crown telling everyone what to do, what to think, how to pray.” Ever since,
the thought terrified her, but it hadn’t occurred that someone in a position
like the mayor would be maneuvering to be appointed there.
    “It’s... a lot to think about, Duggan.”
    “Aye, and it could be much more innocent than all
that. He could just be selling wood and trying to establish a long-term
contract so he sells it cheap. It’s just my nature, I canna imagine that’s all
there is to it. What’s this then?”
    The door squeaked open slowly. Duggan announced
that the inn was not yet open, except to let out rooms, but the new entrant
strode forward. She turned to see Rollo, the little man from the courthouse.
    “Kenna? Kenna Moore?” He said, ignoring Duggan.
    For a moment, hearing her own name, instead of her
assumed one, took Kenna by surprise, and she didn’t answer.
    “Wh – why yes. How do you know me?”
    “Message from Mayor Steven Marlowe Willard. He
wanted me to put it to your hands directly.” The man had a strange accent that
Kenna couldn’t place. He had a fascinating way of twisting his sounds that made
her think he was from far away. That, and his olive-hued skin, made her think
he was from the south of France.
    “Oh, why thank you, I suppose.” She looked to
Duggan, who shrugged. Turning back to the messenger, she couldn’t help her
curiosity and asked, “Where is it you’re from? You have the most lovely voice.”
    “Algiers,” Rollo said.
    “How wonderful,” Kenna said. “I’ve always wanted
to see the Mediterranean.”
    “You have? Most people don’t seem to know about my
home.”
    “My father, he insisted that I learn geography
when I was young.”
    “Well, I must be going. But I do hope to see you
again soon. And so does Master Willard.”
    “Yes, thank you,” Kenna said, entranced by his way
of speaking so greatly that she didn’t grasp what he said.
    By the time she thought to ask him, Rollo was
gone, and she saw him disappear into a squat carriage outside her door pulled
by two squat horses.
    “Someone has an admirer,” Duggan said. “Might want
to open that thing you’ve been given. I think you’re to have an engagement.”
    “An...what? What do you mean?”
    Duggan crooked his eyebrow and looked at the
letter. “He brought you a letter, and then told you that Willard hoped to see
you later.”
    “Oh, I’m such a fool!” Kenna laughed. “I was so
taken by his bizarre accent that I paid what he said no mind at all.”
    “You’re a kind soul. You’re presented with a
hunchback and think only of his