Page 64 of Laird of Twilight
“But, and but. We will not argue it again.” He shut the door behind him.
Chapter 16
Good granite was abundant in this glen, James realized, as he stood atop the high conical hill overlooking Struan House and its wide swath of gardens. The morning air was fresh, the sunlight warming as he took in the vastness of glen, hills, and mountains. Invigorated, he resumed his work.
Tapping with a small hammer and chisel, he broke off a chunk of the broad stone ledge that ran along the hillside. The rock broke easily, just a crust of sedimentary rock, limestone, and red sandstone. James was sure the layers stretched a long way through this string of hills. He had discovered a shoulder of granite close to the surface, a gray composite studded with glittering white quartz, bits of smoky cairngorm, and more.
Angus MacKimmie had told him of a quarry in the glen that produced sandstone and limestone, with granite and trap rock so hard it could not be quarried easily. As James worked, he thought about the variety of stone in the glen. Large deposits of granite and basalt here in the central Highlands would reinforce his geological research and theory.
He broke off bits of limestone that showed fossil traces, knowing his sister would enjoy examining them. Fiona shared his interest in geology and was particularly knowledgeable about fossils. Dropping the chunks into a leather bag, he set aside the tall, gnarled walking stick that Angus had given him for strenuous hill-climbing, and sat, pulling a small leather notebook and wood-cased pencil from his pocket.
Granite and whinstone formations NW of the house...100 ft. plus above the level of the house,he wrote.The deposits indicate possible internal heat, fusing masses together to create beds of sedimentary rock...molten material extruded from terrestrial core, cooled as crust, becoming volcanic rock. Evidence here. Basalt, dolerite, gray granite. Traces of red sandstone also in the vicinity.
Excellent material for lectures, he thought, satisfied. He could also work this into the geology book he was writing. That project added more evidence and analysis concerning the theory of a catastrophic development for the Earth, with stupendous heaving shifts of primeval land and sea masses. Some scientists theorized that landmasses and rocky formations had evolved slowly through gradual erosion, but James leaned toward the Catastrophists, though he agreed with details in both groups. What he had observed in these hills, for instance, supported the catastrophe theory. He continued his notes.
Granite, a rocky mass requiring tremendous heat to form, is evidence of volcanic activity,he wrote.Finding rich sources of granite this far in the Highlands, a considerable distance from known volcanoes such as the old formation near Edinburgh—this is significant.
He was particularly pleased to find such beds on his own property at Struan, giving him access to the sites—and dominion over the information and discovery.
What he was finding here was worthy of exploration, and could be an enormous contribution to the information accumulating as geologists pieced together a picture of Earth’s creation. Such discoveries could also indicate a future direction of terrestrial evolution. All of this was important for his scholarly book.
The wind blew briskly as he set down the notebook and rummaged in the leather bag for tools. He brought with him various chisels, two small hammers, and a fine loupe—two small hinged magnifying lenses banded in engraved brass, a gift from Fiona. The bag also contained chunks of unfired clay to test the streaking properties of minerals, along with bits of metal and shards of wood for testing hardness and density. There was a small vial of hydrochloric acid, well-capped, as well, for dissolving sedimentary deposits so he could clean and identify rocks. Today, he had put to good use the chisels, hammer, and loupe.
Hearing dogs bark, he looked around to see Angus climbing the hill with the wolfhound and the white terrier running alongside. Nellie reached him first, and James rubbed her head in greeting.
“Your guests are arriving, sir,” Angus said, pointing southeast.
“Sooner than expected! I had a letter from Lady Rankin saying they would arrive by Thursday. It is but Wednesday.”
“Mrs. MacKimmie has the house ready,” her husband said.
“She does indeed.” Struan House virtually sparkled, from polished furniture and floors to dazzling silver and glass downstairs and white counterpanes and fresh linens in all the guest rooms.
Standing beside Angus, he saw a vehicle approaching in the distance. The black coach and matched four followed the winding road toward Struan House. “Only two or three miles away,” James said.
“No hired chaise neither, but a fine private coach. I sent a groom ahead to lead them to the house. The roads are still rutted, and will stay so until they are fixed, which could be never,” he added bluntly. “Yon coachman best go slow.”
“Would we had the means to fix the roads and bridges, too.” James understood Angus’s broad hint. Waiting here, on this peaceful point overlooking the beautiful glen, he was in no hurry to leave, but he had to greet his guests. Dropping tools and rock bits into the leather bag, he shouldered it and took up the walking stick. Angus and the dogs descended with him.
The young groom came along the road on foot, one of Angus’s nephews, a kilted boy with red hair and an elfin grin. The ghillie went ahead to meet him, while James came slowly, using the stick to balance his limping gait.
The pockets of his tweed jacket sagged, for he had dropped rock specimens into those too. The loose, comfortable jacket had been a gift from Donal MacArthur, a package that had arrived at Struan House two days after his visit to Kilcrennan House. Its handsome woolen weave was sturdy, warm, and impervious to damp, perfect for explorative outings in the hills.
But he had not heard from Elspeth. He had returned a note of thanks for the coat, extending a dinner invitation to the MacArthurs and Mrs. Graham, and had inquired politely after Miss MacArthur. He had added his hope that she was still interested in acting as his research assistant.
No answer had come back, though a week had passed. James had contemplated riding to Kilcrennan, but pride and uncertainty delayed him. He was already allowing his familiar shell to close over him again. The freedom he had felt with Elspeth had changed him, but he could easily revert. With Elspeth, he had been ready to shake off the past and step away from the old, restrained, bitter part of himself. Without her, he was content to slip back to his old self.
Nor would he ask her to marry him again. She had refused, and he would not make a fool of himself. He still had to meet the conditions of his grandmother’s odd will, and Elspeth was more than perfect for that—and for him. But he told himself that he could live without her.
No matter that he wanted and desired her, craved to be her husband. Daydreaming was not in his character, but he indulged in that a little, imagining her in his house, in his life. But that avenue of dreams was closed. He must accept it.
Yet without the prescribed Highland fairy bride, he would jeopardize his siblings’ inheritance and even his ownership of Struan House and estate. He needed a wife, without question. Lady Rankin would push Charlotte Sinclair at him, but Charlotte could not satisfy the silly legal requirements.
And he already had a bride in mind and heart.
He would have to let go of that. He would recover from it, just as he had healed from other wounds. He was accustomed to a solitary, modest life. And he could sell Struan House to generate funds, though it broke his heart to think of it.
Angus returned, pointed toward the carriage in the distance. “Davie says there are three gentlemen in the coach. The rest are following in a second coach.”
