Page 86 of A Rogue in Twilight
“Let me read to you about Ellen’s Isle, named for the heroine of Sir Walter’s poem,” Lady Rankin opened her book and began to read aloud again.
Elspeth listened and tried to quell her fears. Soon she would turn twenty-one, a birthday she dreaded. She sighed and glanced at James. He gave her a small, private smile, and she understood the silent message—love, strength, passion, hope—as his aunt’s voice droned on.
Both coaches drewto a halt in the yard of the ferryman’s house near the rounded foot of the loch. Mr. MacDuff and his wife emerged to greet them, soon serving the group hot tea in a small, pleasant parlor, along with warm oatcakes and rowan jelly. James gazed out the window at Ben Venue and other peaks, anxious to explore.
He gratefully accepted a dose of whisky in his tea, offered by Mr. MacDuff. “The best in the Highlands,” the man said. “Made locally. You will not find better!”
James chuckled, expecting that every Highland man would claim his whisky to be the best, and with good reason. He had always found Highland whisky to be superior to the Lowland sort more commonly found in Edinburgh and the Lowlands.
“Who will sail over the water?” Mr. MacDuff asked, and arrangements began.
“Lord Struan will come in the boat with us,” Charlotte said.
“Not this time. I am keen to look for rock samples,” he said, giving his leather bag a little kick to demonstrate his intention to work.
She scowled. “What about your leg? Can you walk that far without trouble?”
“I do not mind the exercise,” he said, while Elspeth and the others looked his way. The others would not have made so direct a reference to his lameness.
“I would be happy to accompany you, Miss Sinclair,” Sir Philip said. “Struan can see all from his mountain top, though he will miss a sublime trip over smooth waters.”
Patrick came back, having left to hire the boats. “We have two boats, enough for all. Though Struan and Mr. MacArthur are for the mountain.”
“My granddaughter will accompany us,” Donal said.
Charlotte whirled. “Miss MacArthur is going with Struan?”
“My dear,” Fiona said, leaning toward her. “Miss MacArthur is used to Highland terrain, and she naturally would want to accompany her grandfather. You will be far more comfortable on the boat with us. I plan to sketch and be quite lazy as I take in the beautiful views.”
“I thought today would be a coach tour,” Charlotte complained.
Sir Philip smiled. “Miss Sinclair, allow me to escort.” He offered his arm.
Soon they went down to the shore of the loch, where some boarded the boats, and James, Elspeth, and Donal set out on the track to the mountain slopes. The wind was brisk, and clouds glowered over the mountain peak. Donal produced gnarly, sturdy walking sticks, and James took one in lieu of his usual cane. Though his leg often ached in chilly or rainy weather, he had noticed lately that his knee had given him less complaint, perhaps due to the refreshing Highland air.
Patrick turned to James. “We will meet you here in the late afternoon for the return drive. Best of luck with your rock hunting.”
“Bring back souvenirs,” Philip called. “Diamonds and sapphires!”
James laughed. “A few crystals if we are lucky. Ready?” he asked Elspeth.
“Aye,” she said. James heard a tremor in her lightsome voice.
They walked togetherover heathery moors up into the foothills, then climbed steadily, saying little. Elspeth paused to rest her ankle, relying on the walking stick, and looked out at the magnificent view. The steely surface of the loch stretched below, fringed by heathery moorland with blazing autumn trees against the dark slopes of the mountain. Above towered the mountain peaks, obscured at the top by a thick cloud ring.
James shaded his eyes with a hand. “Mica and schist up there,” he said. “That makes the slopes so dark and shiny. There is a good deal of that with shale scree in streaks down the sides. So much schist indicates massive heat early in the mountain’s formation. A good sign for my research.”
“We are here for more than your research,” Elspeth said with a half-laugh.
“I know.” Shouldering his leather pack, he walked ahead to catch up to Donal, who stood above them now.
“Why are we here, if not for the lad to find rocks?” Donal called.
“We are looking for the Goblin Cave,” Elspeth said.
“Ah, Coire nan Uruiskin,” Donal said. “Why do you want to go there?”
“We are looking for fairy treasure, Donal MacArthur.”
