Page 43 of A Scot on the Rocks
She took a small sip and let the sweetness open into grain and fruit before heavier notes dragged across the finish.
“The cut is too late.”
Jamie stopped reaching for the butter.
“What?”
“The point where you stop keeping the heart of the run. You’re letting too much of the heavier spirit through at the end.”
He held out his hand. Olivia passed him the cup, noticing that he smelled before tasting it. Her date at the whisky bar, Daniel, certainly hadn’t.
Jamie sat quietly for a moment, turning the whisky over in his mouth before swallowing.
“Ye can tell that from one taste?”
“The bitterness at the finish gives it away, but that isn’t the only thing.”
She took the cup back and smelled again. “Something happened to the water.”
His attention sharpened. “How do ye ken that?”
She tilted her head, thinking. “There’s more iron than I’d expect, and an earthy quality. Maybe sediment after a heavy rain? The water isn’t bad, but it traveled through something different before it reached the still.”
“The upper burn shifted after the rains three weeks ago.”
Olivia looked up. “You noticed?”
“Aye.”
“What did you change?”
“Nothing yet. Alasdair says it will settle.”
“It might, but it’s changing the spirit now.”
Jamie folded his arms and studied her, and for the first time since she’d met him, his skepticism had vanished completely.
“Ye speak of water as though it carries tales.”
“All water carries something. Minerals, soil, vegetation, stone. Whatever it moves over or through eventually reaches the still in one form or another.”
The rain struck harder against the roof overhead. Somewhere beyond the doorway, Bess shifted in her stall and knocked softly against the wood.
He studied her face, patient and far too perceptive.
“Mrs. Bennett,” he said, and the borrowed name felt suddenly heavier than it had a moment before, “there are parts of your tale that walk poorly beside the rest.”
Olivia kept her hand around the cup. “Is that your polite way of calling me a liar?”
“Nay.” His gaze stayed on hers. “It’s my polite way of telling ye I noticed the holes in yer story, but for now I’ll leave them be.”
Chapter 8
Jamie
Jamie had intended to give Olivia a hot meal and time enough beneath his roof to decide whether she was dangerous to him or to Glenbrae before he sent her on her way, but here he was, a day later and she was still here.
The strange black trousers that shed the rain were still by the hearth. He picked them up by the waistband and rubbed the material between his fingers.
