Scotch Whiskey

When in Rome

The Garrison was hectic, loud and filled with many people. Scottish men, paid women, fine liquor. No expense was spared, and everyone was joyous.

To say the least, as I sat round the large table reserved in the private room for my brothers and I, I was enthralled with this clan. Their leader mostly. I wanted to find out more about her.

I sat across the door, gazing at the Scarlet headed leaders of the Highlanders, Keiran and Kormac sitting on either side of their sister, passing her drinks and making sure she was protected.

Why she walked around with so much protection was beyond me. Though, contrary to the Gypsy Queen's words, these Scotsmen were not just some rag tag group of a gang. They were a fully grown and calibrated mafia.

Her green eyes glinted in the lamplight above her group, her bright smile shining above the rest. She held an air of confidence and leadership, one only gained by the life she had been given by her father, Logan MacKenna.

"They say 'er dad passed, and instead of leaving the business to the boys, he left it to 'er cause she was a girl. Could keep everything afloat when her brothers were drafted in the war," Arthur murmured to Finn as they sat by my side, discussing our new guests.

"But what about after?" Finn inquired. "They'd've taken over, right? Why's she still-"

"Cause she's a witch, that's why," John snapped. "She's the Celtic witch of the MacKenna clan, she cursed her brothers to always stay by her side, only because she didn't want them betraying her."

"Shut it," I rolled my eyes, hushing my siblings. I stood from my seat, a groan escaping my throat as I straightened my suit jacket. "She's not a witch."

I shook my head as I walked away from my family, their incessant gossip making the bar look more appetizing than ever. "Whiskey, please," I handed the barkeep a five pence, knowing that it would get me a bottle. "Irish."

I didn't plan on going anywhere, placing myself in a stool. The newly remodeled Garrison was now a very comfortable space in which I was never blind.

From every angle I could see guests of the party cajoling each other, playing like soldiers in a pub during the war. Nobody escaped my gaze. Though as I saw a head of scarlet curls wander from the corner booth to my side, I had to admit I wasn't expecting it.

"The house you've put us in is well above acceptable, Master Shelby," Miss MacKenna started as she stood next to me, her smooth form glowing in the golden light of the pub.

"You're guests," I offered, extending my invitation for her to sit with me. "Important guests."

With a chuckle, Arabella sat down and crossed her legs over her stool.

"Yer a big boss, I'm sure," she said, hailing the bar tender for a drink. "You must have a lot of important guests like this."

I shook my head as I swallowed a gulp of whiskey, the taste coming to bite my throat.

"I've never hosted half of a lot of Scottish gangsters," I confessed.

"Oh, this ain't half," a grin peaked at the corners of her lush lips. "This is about a quarter."

My mind was boggled at the sheer number of men this woman seemed to lead. How did she keep her title? John's words came to mind.

"They say you're a witch," I changed the subject rather abruptly, "my brother seems to think you charmed your siblings to never overthrow you."

"Ha ha," a brightly flavoured laugh exited her throat, her eyes fluttering shut and her nose scrunched together. "A witch?"

With a nod once again, I answered, turning to face her for more answers. Though I'd known she hadn't been an old hag in the guise of a beautiful young mare, there were parts of her story I'd need to know.

"I'm a nurse," she finally answered. "I was stationed in France during the war."

Though the answer that came from her lips caught me off guard, I felt a slight tug in my stomach.

"France?" I questioned pouring us both another drink from the bottle I ordered. "Where?"

"The Somme," she gulped out, the burn of the whiskey I poured her nipping at her lips.

My interest peeked through my stoic guise with a cock of the head.

"A wonder you didn't see me," I answered, perplexed as to how I'd never seen this red headed beauty in the medical fields of the Somme.

"What did you do?" She questioned. "What was your mandate?"

"Tunneller," I nodded simply, feeling my stomach clench beneath me.

As my gaze once again caught Arabella's her expression softened and she nodded her head, giving me the feeling that she knew the hardship we had been through.

As she finished the last of the two fingers of amber liquid I'd poured her, she made a sour face.

"Right, that's piss," she chuckled.

"D'you mean?" I asked looking at the bottle before me.

"I mean, that's not Scotch," she offered, rising from her stool with a large stretch. "As well as a tailoring shop, Master Shelby, my brothers and I own a scotch distillery. Highland scotch of course. Not any of this lowland pig water yer' men are drinkin'."

"You seem to be an expert in many things," I said, placing my glass on the bar yet again. "Do you like wine?"

"Very much," Miss MacKenna nodded, gracefully plopping back onto her stool.

"I've a 1902 Burgundy that I stole out of an officer's quarters during a party," I mentioned cheekily, all the while keeping my calm, play boyish nature.

"Do you offer all the pretty lasses you meet expensive wine?" She asked cheekily.

With a shake of my head, I couldn't help but crack the smallest inkling of a smirk, attempting to hide the gesture with a gulp of scotch yet again.

Failure had become me when Miss MacKenna crosses her arms and grinned devilishly at me. I had been caught.

Finally I had felt as if I was standing on the very precipice of a cliff, only centimetres away from the edge; and I'd fallen off.

I craved to know more of her.

"Are you hungry?" I questioned as I stood from my seat, threw my coat over my shoulders, and put my hat on my head.

"Yes," once again the trill of a word came to her lips, a flush coming to her cheeks as she rose to her feet before me.

I looked between her brother's now evident stare and her green hues, knowing they'd be hesitant to what I had planned next.

"Would you join me for dinner," I questioned expeditiously, "just the two of us?"