Page 64 of A Rogue in Twilight
Next he broke off bits of limestone that showed fossil traces. Fiona would want to examine them, as she was particularly fascinated by fossils. Dropping the bits into a leather bag, he set aside the tall, gnarled walking stick that Angus had given him to help with strenuous hill-climbing. Then he pulled a smallleather notebook and wood-wrapped pencil lead from a pocket, sat down, and made notes.
Granite and whinstone formations 100 ft. plus above level of house,he wrote.Deposits indicate internal heat that fused masses together to create beds of sedimentary rock…molten material extruded from terrestrial core, cooled as crust, becoming volcanic rock. Evidence strong. Basalt, dolerite, gray granite. Traces of red sandstone too.
Excellent material for lectures, he thought, and he could use this for the scientific volume he was writing for the university. His project relied on theories that included a catastrophic development thousands of years ago, stupendous heaving shifts of ancient land and sea masses. Other scientists theorized that early land masses and rocky formations had evolved slowly as a result of gradual erosion. James leaned toward the Catastrophists, as they called themselves, though he agreed in some details with the Uniformitarianists. Both were right in parts, but he was convinced that catastrophe had been the larger factor, judging by the evidence.
Granite required tremendous heat to form, which could indicate volcanic activity. He was pleased to find rich sources of granite this far into the Highlands, a considerable distance away from volcanoes such as the old remainder near Edinburgh. He was also pleased to find the beds on Struan property, giving him access and dominion.
What he had discovered was worthy of more exploration and could be an enormous contribution to piecing together a geological picture of Earth’s creation. The discoveries about eons long ago also helped indicate future terrestrial evolution. He intended to explore that further in his scholarly work.
Seated in the brisk wind, he searched the leather bag he had brought that held chisels, hammers, and a loupe—two small hinged magnifying lenses banded in brass. The bag also contained chunks of unfired clay to test the streaking properties of minerals, along with bits of metals and shards of wood to test hardness and density. In addition, he also had a small vial of hydrochloric acid, well-capped, to dissolve sedimentary deposits so that he could clean and identify rock. He had brought all of that with him to Struan in hopes of making progress here.
Hearing the dogs bark, he looked down the slope to see Angus climbing toward him, Osgar and Nellie running alongside. The terrier reached him first and James rubbed her head.
“Your guests are arriving, sir,” Angus said, pointing southeast.
“Sooner than expected! I had a letter from my aunt saying they would be here Thursday. It’s but Wednesday.”
“Mrs. MacKimmie has the house more than ready,” her husband said.
“Of course.” Struan House sparkled, from polished furniture to silver and glass, and clean counterpanes and fresh linens were in all the guest rooms.
Now in the distance, he saw a black coach and matched four following the road. “Two or three miles away, are they?”
“Aye, and that’s a fine private coach,” Angus MacKimmie said. “I sent a groom ahead to lead them to the house. The roads are still muddy and rutted, and will stay so until they can be fixed,” he added bluntly. “Yon coachman best go slow.”
“I wish we had the means to fix the roads and the bridge.” James understood Angus’s broad hint. He sighed. Watching the road, he knew he must stop his work and go greet his guests. Dropping his things into the satchel, he shouldered it and took up the walking stick to descend the hill with Angus and the dogs.
The young groom came along the road on foot, one of Angus’s nephews, a kilted boy with red hair and an elfin grin. MacKimmie went to meet him while James went more slowly, using the stick to balance his uneven gait.
The pockets of his tweed jacket sagged, for he had dropped rock specimens into those too. The loose, comfortable coat had been a gift from Donal MacArthur, a package that had arrived at Struan House two days after his visit to Kilcrennan House. Its sturdy woolen weave was handsome, warm, and impervious to damp. He wondered how long it had taken for Donal to weave the cloth, and who had made such a fine coat.
Yet he had received no message from Elspeth, and that puzzled and troubled him. He had sent a note of thanks for the coat, extending a dinner invitation and inquiring politely after Miss MacArthur, adding his hope that she would like to help with his research as she had mentioned.
He still waited for an answer. He had considered riding to Kilcrennan, but pride and uncertainty delayed him, as well as the need to work on the fairy book as well as his scientific research. He had quickly reverted to the familiar shell closing over him again. What he had felt with Elspeth was freeing, but he could wait. He would wait forever so long as he had hope.
But he would not ask her to marry him again. She had refused enough, and he was not keen on feeling the fool. Let her decide. He knew he would be happiest with her, but he also knew he was capable of moving on if need be. Daydreaming was not in his character, but he had found solace in imagining her in his house, in his life, doing what she willed. Lately he wondered if that avenue of dreams had closed.
Yet if he could not find an appropriate Highland bride to fulfill his grandmother’s will, he would jeopardize everything for himself and his siblings. And if he did not marry soon, LadyRankin was sure to push Charlotte Sinclair at him. But she could not fulfill any requirement he had. Only one lass could do that.
Well, he was accustomed to a solitary, modest life, and he could go on. He could sell Struan House and generate funds that way. But it would break his heart.
Angus returned, pointing toward the carriage coming closer. “Davie says there are three gentlemen in the coach, and others following in a second coach.”
“Ah. We shall see who they are soon.”
“Very soon. That driver is flyin’ fast on a poor road.”
Smiling at another broad hint, James stood waiting on the sloping foot of the hillside as the first vehicle rolled along. It was a handsome black barouche drawn by four powerful bays with whipping black manes. Angus lifted his arm and the coach slowed and stopped. For a moment, James was reminded of the devil’s coach said to haunt some Highland roads. He huffed at the thought, wondering who had accompanied his aunt.
The coach door opened and his brother Patrick leaped down. Pleased, James moved to greet him with a handshake and a thump on the shoulder.
“James, you look well! Country laird and all agrees with you,” Patrick said, grinning. “The others are following—Fiona, Aunt Rankin, Philip, and Miss Sinclair. They should be here soon.”
“Very good. Who is with you?” The carriage door opened and a second man emerged. “Sir John! Excellent to see you,” James said, stepping forward to extend his hand as John Graham approached.
“Struan! Good to see you.” John tipped his hat, blond hair bright in the sun. “I hope you do not mind the intrusion. I know you did not expect all of us, but we had a business endeavor north of here, so Patrick invited us. Lord Eldin was generous enough to offer the use of his carriage for the trip.”
“Eldin?” James tensed, hearing his cousin’s name. He glanced toward the barouche as a third man, still inside, looked out the open door. He was dressed all in black, from his hat and dark hair to his polished boots. He leaned forward.
