Highland Storms (15 page)

Seton had already been sitting at the desk when Brice arrived, but at a sharp look from the latter, the factor vacated the chair. Instead, he had to sit down on the opposite side, while Brice took his place. Brice was aware this might make the man feel uncomfortable, but perhaps that was all to the good in this case. Seton had a few questions to answer.

‘
I’ve been having a look through the ledgers,’ Brice said, ‘and everything appears to tally.’

‘
Aye, and so they should. I’ve kept them myself,’ Seton answered, his gaze stony and his eyes narrowed slightly as if he was on the defensive.

‘
I’m not doubting your abilities to add up or keep accounts, Mr Seton. What I’m wondering, however, is why the amounts are so small. There seems to be no profit whatsoever for the last few years.’

Seton shrugged. ‘As you may have heard, we’ve had some hard times here in the Highlands. The Redcoats saw to that. What with wrecking homes, then taxes and more taxes. There’s never an end to them.’

‘
Even so, it’s been nearly eight years since the forty-five and as I understand it, the last two have been relatively good as far as harvests are concerned. And yet Rosyth’s yield is ludicrous. How do you explain that?’

Seton’s cheeks took on a somewhat ruddier hue and Brice saw a muscle jumping in the man’s cheek, but he kept hold of his temper. ‘After the bad harvest in ’51, we didn’t have much grain to sow, therefore no yields either. The people had to eat and the families just keep growing. Too many damned bairns to feed.’

‘
Surely you could have bought more grain for sowing? And what about the cattle? I reckon the pasture here ought to be able to sustain a herd of at least three hundred, half of which could be sold at market each year. Last year you sold twenty.’

The factor attempted a look of unconcern, but Brice could tell the man was rattled. Perhaps he hadn’t thought the new laird would know anything about farming or even be interested for that matter. ‘We’d had to sell a lot of cattle in the previous years, so there weren’t enough calves being born,’ Seton said. ‘I sold the ones we could afford to lose. The rest have been slow to mature. Perhaps, being from another country, you’re not familiar with the Scottish beasts? The
kyloes
take up to four years to grow to full size and there’s no point selling them before that. Not all of them make it through the winter either.’

‘
So how many are left now exactly?’ Brice checked the ledger. ‘According to this, there were only eighty-five making up the herd after the rest had been taken either to slaughter or the market last autumn. Assuming most of those were female and the bulls were doing their job, we should have had some seventy or eighty calves born in the spring. By my reckoning, that would make a hundred and sixty five
kyloes
.’

‘
Ye-es.’ Seton drew out the word, as if he wasn’t quite agreeing with Brice.

‘
Hmm, strange there seem to be about fifty more up in the pasture then,’ Brice commented. ‘Two hundred and sixteen. Were there a lot of twin births?’

Seton’s dark eyebrows came down and he glared at Brice. ‘How did you arrive at that figure, my lord?’ He said the last two words in a slightly offensive way, but Brice decided not to take any notice. He smiled instead.

‘
I counted them.’

‘
I beg your pardon?’ The factor’s eyes opened wide and he sat up straighter.

‘
I went up there yesterday to invite people to last night’s supper. As I was there anyway, I took the opportunity to count the beasts. And I made it two hundred and sixteen.’

For a moment, it seemed as if Seton wasn’t going to reply. His mouth opened and shut again. Finally, he drew in a deep breath and said, ‘You must be mistaken. They move around a lot after all, which makes them hard to count. And there are always a couple of extra belonging to the tenants themselves. Yes, that must be it, they’ve put theirs in with the rest.’

‘
You think? Well, we’ll see when we bring them down later in the month I expect. I can assure you my eyesight is excellent, however, and if there are any less than the number I counted, I shall want to know what happened to them.’

The factor didn’t reply to this, which made Brice suspect the man had intended to remove a few animals at a time, perhaps at night, and send them to market. He was satisfied he’d nipped that scheme in the bud.

‘
As you may have noticed,’ he continued, ‘I brought some more females, so the total number ought to be two hundred and fifty now. I think we should sell fifty bullocks this year and slaughter about five to begin with.’

‘
To begin with? Why that would leave a hundred and ninety-odd to feed for the winter. Impossible!’

‘
Not if we buy some fodder and also start haymaking now. I’d like you to find some men for that job straight away please as a priority. I’ll help them myself this afternoon if you have a spare scythe. The cattle will be able to stay outside most of the year, I understand, but we’ll need extra feed for when they have to be brought indoors.’

‘
That’s not how we do things here,’ Seton protested, his gaze darkening.

‘
Why not? Come spring, I’d like at least a hundred and twenty animals alive so we’ll have a decent sized herd next year. As I said, the pasture should support upwards of three hundred.’

‘
But where will you house them if the weather is bad? The townspeople can only take between three to six each, depending on the size of their huts, some only one.’

‘
I’m sure we can build a new barn for the purpose. At a pinch, some of them can go in the stables, since they seem sadly empty with only four garrons and my horse in there. It shouldn’t be a problem. Also, I gather we need a new building for the hay. I think we ought to build that first. Do you agree?’

Without giving Seton the chance to say anything or protest further, Brice changed tack.

‘
I was told you’ve been reporting to Mrs Kinross in my father’s absence, is that correct?’

‘
Aye, in as much as it was possible, her being female and all.’

‘
You’re saying she didn’t understand estate matters?’

‘
Not really, no. And half the time she’s sickly, as you must know. Mostly she gave me free rein.’

‘
I see. And you’ve been dealing with all the correspondence on her behalf?’

‘
What little there was, yes.’

‘
So you would have been the one receiving my father’s letters?’

‘
There weren’t many, as I recall. I did wonder at it myself, but then with things being the way they are here in Scotland, I thought perhaps they weren’t getting through. Mrs Kinross remarked upon it as well.’

Brice frowned. ‘My father told me he wrote to you at least four times a year.’

Seton shrugged again. ‘I didn’t receive anything near as many letters as that.’

Since he didn’t believe him, Brice didn’t comment on this. Instead, he changed the topic of conversation again rather abruptly. ‘I had a quick look at the fields yesterday too – I’d say it will be time for the harvest within the next couple of weeks. What do you think?’

‘
Yes, although we need a few more sunny days.’

‘
Agreed. How about we make a start in, say, ten days?’

‘
We?’

Brice raised his eyebrows at the man. ‘Yes, of course. It’s all hands on deck during harvest time, is it not? At least where I come from.’

Seton goggled at him, then shook his head. ‘You’ll have to excuse me, my lord, but I’m past my prime and I injured my back not long since.’

‘
I see.’ Brice thought he saw all too clearly, but decided against forcing the man to take part. He hid a smile. He hadn’t expected anything else, although as far as he could see, there was nothing wrong with the factor whatsoever. In fact, he’d seldom seen a man his age in such good shape, apart from maybe his own father. ‘Let’s hope there are plenty of other strong men around then. You have enough scythes I take it or do I need to buy some?’

‘
Scythes? What for? The grain is simply pulled from the ground so all you need are your hands.’ Seton looked confused.

‘
Pulled from the ground? Roots and all?’ Brice couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

‘
Aye, that’s how it’s usually done. Then the grain is extracted from the ears by burning –
graddaning
we call it.’

‘
Preposterous! No wonder you have to slaughter so many animals each autumn. You’ll have no straw for winter feeding.’

‘
Exactly.’ Seton’s expression indicated that he thought he’d made his point, whereas in fact he’d only made Brice more determined to have his way.

‘
Well, it’s not how I’d like you to do it this year. We’re using scythes. You’ll humour me by trying my way, at least this once, won’t you?’ It wasn’t really a question, they both knew that.

Seton scowled. ‘On your head be it,’ he muttered darkly.

‘
Indeed. Please tell the men to get started on the haymaking immediately then. I’ll join them as soon as I can.’ Brice nodded dismissal. ‘I’ll see you later.’

After Seton had left, Brice sat for a long time deep in thought. He’d have a hard time proving the factor had done anything wrong so more drastic measures were called for. He pulled a clean sheet of paper towards him and began to write a letter to his father.

He needed assistance.

‘
He’s a strange carle, so he is.’ Greine came into the kitchen, carrying a basket full of kale which she’d just washed in the loch. ‘Don’t know what to make of him.’

Marsaili, who was sitting by the kitchen table trying to make a note of all their new supplies in the household account book, looked up from her task. ‘Who?’

‘
The laird, of course.’

‘
Why do you say he’s a strange man? What’s he doing now? Handing out more food?’ Although she was joking about it, she knew it wasn’t a laughing matter, but she was also aware her employer wouldn’t be able to buy his tenants’ affection simply by giving them things.
He should just comb their hair for them
. She squashed the unruly thought, but couldn’t quite suppress a delicious shiver which trailed down her spine as she remembered how good his ministrations had felt earlier.

‘
No, he’s making hay. Wielding a scythe as though he was born to it. And him the laird! That’s not something I ever looked to see.’

Marsaili stared at Greine. ‘Really? Well, I never.’ It would seem he’d understood. A thought struck her and she smiled. ‘Has he got Mr Seton helping out as well?’

Greine snorted. ‘Hardly. Haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since that meeting in the estate office this morn. Did you see him leave with his tail between his legs?’

Marsaili frowned. ‘No, but I hope the laird knows what he’s doing. Antagonising Mr Seton can be dangerous. He’s likely to strike back.’

‘
Well, I didn’t hear a stramash, so I’d guess the factor’s just a mite put out not to be in charge any more. He’ll come round. After all, he must have kennt it was going to happen one day.’

‘
Yes, but not so soon.’ As he’d told her, not long ago.

‘
Anyway, you should go for a wee walk down the meadow,’ Greine said with a twinkle in her eyes.

‘
Why would I want to do that? I have work to do.’ Marsaili tried to look stern.

‘
Well, he’s a fine figure of a man, and no mistake. A woman could do worse than look at him.’ Greine laughed out loud as Marsaili picked up a nearby rolling pin to mock threaten her with.

‘
Honestly, is there anyone around here who’s not set on match-making?’

But for the rest of the afternoon, she had to fight an overwhelming urge to go for a walk.

Only a few men answered the summons to help with haymaking, but Brice was pleased to see Sandy
Mor
and his son Rob among them. He knew if he could win the trust of the main tacksmen, the rest of the tenants might follow. Despite being short-handed, they finished by late afternoon. They’d cut as much grass as they could of the kind which grew in the wetter fields near the loch. Some of the township women had spread it out to dry and had promised to turn it regularly. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Brice could only hope more would grow before winter set in. He’d also been pleased to see Archie and some of the other children arrive at regular intervals with baskets full of grass they’d collected elsewhere.

‘
That’s a great help,’ he told them. ‘Keep it up, then come to me for payment. Archie, you’ll tell me how much I owe each child, won’t you?’

‘
Aye, I will.’ Archie beamed at him and scurried off.

Upon his return to the house, Brice washed and changed his clothes, then made his way to the north tower and knocked on the door to Ailsa’s rooms. Flora opened it and smiled when she saw it was him.

‘
Come in, Brice. I’m sure Mother will be pleased to see you.’ She added in a whisper. ‘You’ve no idea how your arrival here has invigorated her. It’s been ages since I’ve seen her this lively.’

‘
Then I’m glad,’ he replied.

He had always liked Ailsa, although as a young boy he’d never quite understood why she was always so melancholy. His own mother was full of life and usually happy and smiling. The contrast between the two women couldn’t have been more defined if they’d tried. Despite her air of sadness, however, Ailsa had treated him with kindness and it was therefore no hardship to pay her a visit and sit with her for a while. His father had also explained to him about Ailsa’s marriage to Killian’s cousin Farquhar, which had been far from happy and possibly violent. It was understandable this should have left a mark on such a gentle woman.