25. Robert, Speyside, ScotlandRobert Fearmòr wishes he could plug his nostrils to protect himself against the spell of the fragrances around him. His last visit to a distillery was five years ago. Having guessed the likely reason behind this summons to his Uncle Harry’s office, he’d been wary of it. Now he senses an even greater danger: exposing himself to the very subtle fumes of peat, wood, heated copper, water and whisky, indistinguishable for ordinary mortals. On one hand, the familiar feeling warms his heart, but on the other, it dredges up a troubling reminder of a previous life, cast aside forever.
He suddenly finds himself resenting his Aunt Agnes. Her funeral had compelled him to return to the Speyside and to run into his Uncle Harry, who was not one to ever let a good opportunit
