Page 15 of Laird of Twilight
“He need never know if he never courts me.”
“He would be well suited to manage this place after I am gone. I will not be here forever, and I must think about your future. I cannot leave you with all this to do, when you should be finding happiness with your own family someday.”
“I can run Kilcrennan Weavers myself, and you know it.” She looked up. “And who can I ever marry? Few men, if any, would believe the truth about us, or ever understand that you must go off to the fairies every seven years, while I…” She stopped, shrugged. “That there may be claims about where I come from.”
“That you are half fairy, and may be called back someday? I tell you, marry and go away to the south, or you will not be here to explain it to anyone. I will give permission for Mr. MacDowell to court you. I should have done so earlier.”
“Grandda, please. I do not want to marry if it means leaving Kilcrennan.”
“Stubborn lass. This is best for you.” He looked at her sharply. “Unless…is there someone now? You mentioned meeting the new Lord Struan at the king’s ball in Edinburgh. What a match that would be, hey.” He grinned. “The new Lady Struan!”
“Och,stop.” She smiled to hide her thoughts. Last August, she had been kissed and caught, still yearning for a man she should not dream of marrying, might never see again. Those brief, tender kisses had meant too much to her, and naught to him.
“I hear he’s returning to Struan House to look after his grandmother’s affairs. Reverend Buchanan heard it from Mary MacKimmie.”
Elspeth felt breathless suddenly. “Is it so? I expect he will stay but a few days. He does not intend to live here. He is a Lowland man. If we ever see him here, it would be outside the kirk on a Sunday morning for a minute or two. There is no match there, Grandda. A grand laird would never marry a weaver’s girl.”
“Your grandfather is a wealthy weaver, as they go. I did hope you would be married and away from Kilcrennan by now. It is a constant worry to me, your birthday approaching, and no hint of marriage yet.”
“You think me a spinster already?” She wanted to tease him into his usual bright mood, but knew he was serious and remained convinced she was in danger. She had heard Donal’s stories of meeting the Fey, and he claimed to visit them every seven years. While she rather liked the notion that she could be part fairy and that their weaving had a magical element, and while she talked as if she believed it, she had hesitations.
Privately, and especially since she had grown to womanhood, she wondered if Donal MacArthur had invented the tale to please the orphaned little granddaughter that he loved so. And she, adoring him, kept silent about her doubts.
Mrs. Graham always said that Elspeth’s mother was dead and her father had run off. But Donal and local rumor both said that Donal and Niall had gone over to the fairies; Donal had returned and Niall was lost to them. Her grandfather insisted it was true, and that the spell placed on her would come due on her twenty-first birthday in mid-October. Then, he claimed, the Fey would appear and take her back to their realm—unless she found love before that day. Truth, or a fascinating fairy tale from a charming man?
At fourteen, she had followed Donal to a hillside near Struan House, where she watched her grandfather set a blue crystal stone into a rock wall. He had seemed to disappear into an opening that appeared there. And Elspeth had run home thoroughly frightened.
Donal had been gone for two weeks, and she had worried every day of that time. When he finally returned, he said that he had only gone to the city. Elspeth had questioned him, and he had told her, finally, the story of his enthrallment by the fairies. He had confessed that even his weaving talent was a gift from them.
Nearly seven years had passed since then, without incident. Her grandfather was a good storyteller, and she loved him dearly, but she could not believe his tales. She did believe, though, that fairies existed. Few who grew up in the glen failed to believe that. Too many traditions, legends, and strange occurrences permeated the area for generations, and most grew up accepting the tales. Yet she had a practical side, too, and felt no reason to fear Donal’s dire warnings.
“You worry too much about me, Grandda.” She patted his arm.
“Because you do not worry enough.”
“I do believe in the fairy ilk. But I wish I knew truth from fancy for some of it.”
“In your heart, you know what is true.”
“Grandfather, with another seven years coming to an end next month, do you fear that you might go back to the fairies again? And tell me that you went to Edinburgh?” She meant to tease but saw him accept it seriously.
“When I go, I come back each time. But if they succeed in taking you, lass, you will not return.”
“I’ve made no agreement with them, so I have nothing to fear. Nor do you.”
“Be wary,” he said. “Never look back if you see them. Remember it. Swear it.”
She sighed. All her life she had accepted the Sight and the fairy stories, but the older she got, the more she wanted proof. “Grandda, what became of the blue stone you said was a key for entering the fairy realm? I have never seen it since.”
“It stays in its rightful place, hidden in the hill above Struan House.”
”Is it still there? With the gardens enlarged at Struan House in the last few years, I wonder if it is gone. Now a stone wall runs up the hill behind the house.”
“The blue crystal is safely hidden, but I suppose you are right. Once I return from the city, I should make sure it is still out of sight.”
“If Lord Struan is to take over the estate, you should look for it soon. I could stop by the gardens there when I go to Margaret’s to fetch the yarns.”
“Best I attend to it. The fairies go riding through there. You keep away.”
