Page 108 of Laird of Twilight
“Grandmother’s fairy book is nearly complete, just awaiting Fiona’s sketches, which she will finish this spring, I hope. Soon the text will go into Sir Walter’s capable hands for him to read. And I will do some research while in Edinburgh about the new field of geognosy, and then I will need to spend a good deal of time exploring Scotland’s ancient rock layers in the Highlands.”
Elspeth nodded. “Good. And I want to stay near Kilcrennan to be here for my grandfather.”
“He is a happy fellow now, quite content with his Peggy,” James said, thinking of that small wedding, just two weeks earlier, “but they will both be glad you will be nearby more often.”
“They are very content, as if they had been married for a long time, and not just recently.”
“I will not mind being a Highland laird for much of the year,” he admitted. “I think I can become a visiting scholar at university, rather than a resident lecturer. I will have a word with the dean about it.”
“Oh, excellent! Grandda is slower at his weaving these days,” she said, and knew James she meant without the fairy spell, rather than as a sign of aging. “There is a great deal of work to be done at Kilcrennan, with the orders for tartan growing all the time. I feel I am needed there.”
“We will find a way to manage all of it. Ah, MacKimmie is nearly done—are you ready to depart, Lady Struan?”
“Nearly. Grandda and Peggy said they would drive up this morning to see us. Have we packed everything? I suppose you have weighed the carriage down with your rocks and pretty crystals and agates, and there will be no room for two passengers. James?” she asked, for he paused, gazing at her. Now he cupped her cheek gently.
“I will never be sure what happened on that mountain,” he murmured. “I sometimes wonder if I did hit my head on a rock that day, and dreamed it all.”
She tugged on his hat brim and made a face. “It was no dream, Lord Struan. It happened to me as well. What we have now, dear husband, is the very best of dreams. Here they come,” she said then, turning. “They wanted to bid us farewell.”
James glanced there, but saw only the empty lane leading to the house. “Odd.”
“Coaches are coming,” Angus called then from his higher post on the carriage. “A gig and a barouche. Black barouche, sir, very fine.”
“Eldin,” James muttered. “What the devil does he want?” He walked a little down the lane, and Elspeth came with him as the two vehicles came over a low hill. “There is Donal’s gig, but why is Eldin coming here as well?”
“I cannot imagine. Since he withdrew his offer for Struan lands, I thought it would be the last we would see of him.”
“Until my grandmother’s will is finalized—until all the conditions are met by my family—he has no need to contact us.”
Elspeth tucked her hand inside the crook of his elbow. “He did help search for us when they thought we were lost. Perhaps he truly cares and came to say farewell. He seems a lonely fellow to me.”
“Do not let him fool your tender heart. He wanted the treasure, so he joined the search. And the pocket mine will stay our secret. He will not have it.”
She left his side to dash forward, and James came along more slowly. His leg was much improved, and he managed without a cane most days. Highland air and exercise, he was sure. Fairy magic, Elspeth insisted. Whatever it was, his leg had nearly regained its strength. So had his reserved heart, he thought to himself.
The gig carrying Donal and Peggy rolled to a halt, and they climbed down to wrap Elspeth in embraces and warm, delighted conversation. James greeted them, though distracted by the approaching barouche.
“We will see you in Edinburgh,” Donal said. “I must deliver new plaids to the tailors next month, and Peggy wants to see the city. What is that raven-hearted rascal doing here?” He turned.
“I do not know,” James muttered. He walked toward the barouche as it rolled to a halt, a riderless, saddled horse tied to the back.
“Eldin,” he called, stepping forward to open the door. “Greetings. How may we help you on this cold morning?”
Eldin stepped down from the carriage, taller even than James, his greatcoat black as a raven’s wings. He doffed his hat and murmured a greeting. “Struan. It is I who have come to helpyou.”
“How nice to see you, Lord Eldin.” Elspeth joined them and set her gloved hand on James’s arm. He did not take his gaze from his cousin.
“Good morning, Lady Struan,” Eldin said, taking Elspeth’s hand. “Excellent to see you again. You are looking in fine health. Both of you.”
“We are almost ready to leave, but we would be happy to offer you some hot tea on this chilly day. We have time,” Elspeth said, glancing at James. “My father and stepmother would enjoy it too before we all depart.”
“I regret I cannot join you, as I must return to Auchnashee,” Eldin said. “The castle refurbishments are going well, provided I am there to supervise. I came here only to ask if you would convey my best to Fiona and extend to her my invitation to stay at Auchnashee when she comes north. Free of charge, of course,” he said stiffly. “We are family. And friends, of course.”
James stared, wondering at the man’s motive, but then realized that Eldin might be trying to be generous. “I was not aware that Fiona was coming north.”
“I believe so,” Eldin said with a tight smile. James saw a glimmer of something in his cousin’s eyes, a vulnerability—or a hope. Then it was gone. Did their cousin actually care about Fiona? Interesting, he thought, frowning a little.
“We will give Fiona your best,” Elspeth said.
