Page 89 of Laird of Twilight
James gratefully accepted a dose of whisky in his tea from Mr. MacDuff’s silver flask. “The best in the Highlands,” the man said. “Made locally. You will not find better.” He winked, then poured a taste in the tea for Mr. MacArthur, Patrick, and Philip. The women, when offered, shook their heads.
“Is this fairy whisky?” James asked Elspeth quietly.
“Oh no, that is rare stuff indeed. This is a good local brew. Our cousin is not the only one who makes fine whisky in these mountains.” She smiled.
“Who will sail over the water with us?” Mr. MacDuff asked then, as they others discussed who would sail and who would like to go hillwalking. James could only hope they all, but for a certain few, would rather go out on the water.
“James, will you come in the boat?” Charlotte asked.
“I am keen to explore the mountain slopes for rock samples,” he said, giving his leather bag a little kick to demonstrate his intention. “I am searching for indications of ancient volcanic activity.” He thought that might put her off sufficiently.
She scowled. “What of your leg? Can you walk that far without trouble?”
He shrugged. “I do not mind the exercise,” he said, seeing Elspeth and his siblings glance toward him. None of them would have made such a direct, all but rude, reference to his lameness.
“I would be happy to accompany you on the boat, Miss Sinclair,” Sir Philip said. “I’m interested in seeing Ellen’s Isle. Struan will have a wide view from his mountain top, but he will miss a sublime trip over the water.”
“I am more interested in geology today,” James said. Indeed, he was anxious to depart, thinking Elspeth and Donal were as well. They had their heads together in quiet, earnest conversation, and he sensed some tension between them. Patrick joined them, having left briefly to inquire about water transport. “We hired two boats,” he reported, “so that we can enjoy the view from the loch. James, you and Mr. MacArthur are for the mountain, is that so?”
“Aye,” James said.
“My granddaughter will accompany us,” Donal said.
Charlotte whirled. “Miss MacArthur is going hillwalking with you?”
“I will,” Elspeth answered. “I am interested in seeing the grotto.”
“Then Fiona should go with you. She quite likes rocks,” Charlotte said, giving Elspeth a sidelong glance.
“My dear,” Fiona said gently, leaning forward in her chair. “Miss MacArthur is used to rugged Highland terrain and is dressed for it today. Naturally, she wants to accompany her grandfather. You will be far more comfortable on a boat outing, where we can all relax at our leisure. I do enjoy searching for fossils, but today I want to sketch and be quite lazy, and take in all the beauty that surrounds this pretty loch.”
“I thought today would be a tour for everyone together,” Charlotte complained.
“Miss Sinclair, it would be my pleasure to show you the shores of Ellen’s Isle,” Philip said magnanimously. He offered her his arm, and Charlotte relaxed a little, even laughed.
Setting down the last of his tea, James picked up his bag of geological tools and followed Elspeth and her grandfather outside to the inn yard. The wind was brisk and damp, and clouds glowered over the mountain peak.
Donal offered him a walking stick, a thick and gnarly thing, very sturdy. James was glad to have it, knowing it would suit strenuous hiking better than his customary cane. Though his leg often ached in rainy and cold weather, he had noticed that his injured leg had given him little complaint lately, perhaps due to the refreshing Highland air, said to be excellent for health. Whether a result of good air or exercise, he was glad of the improvement. His doctor had warned him that he might limp and have pain all his life, but James had done his best to keep the injury from restricting him, and he had found it troubled him far less in the Highlands. He had not expected that.
Elspeth grasped a walking stick in her hand too, and she smiled up at him.
“Ready?” Patrick asked all. He turned to James. “We will meet you back here in the late afternoon. Best of luck with your rock hunting, James.”
“Bring back souvenirs,” Philip called. “Diamonds and sapphires!”
James laughed. “More likely rock crystals if we’re fortunate. Late afternoon it is, then.” He turned to Elspeth and Donal. “Are you ready?”
“We are,” Elspeth said, her tone a little too bright.
* * *
Elspeth was quiet as they walked together over heathery moors toward the foothills of the mountain. Those sloped abruptly away from the heath, and they climbed steadily, saying little. Partway up the slope, Elspeth paused to catch her breath, standing on scruffy rock-studded turf.
The view was simply magnificent here. The smooth, steely surface of the loch stretched out below, fringed by heathery moorland with blazing autumn trees to one side and the dark slopes of the mountain to the other. Above them towered the peaks of Ben Venue, on whose lower slopes they stood. Far above, a ring of cloud obscured the top.
Donal paused, Elspeth too, and James stood with them, shading his eyes with a hand. “Mica and schist,” he said after an assessing glance, and pointed. “Up there. That glossy black rock, do you see? The upper slopes contain a good bit of that, along with shale scree cascading down the sides. The schist indicates massive heat early in the mountain’s formation. A good sign for my research.”
“I am glad. But I hope we find more than evidence for your research.” Elspeth found his geological explanations quite interesting, but there was far more on her mind than learning about rocks today.
