Page 36 of A Rogue in Twilight (The Whisky Rogues #2)

He nodded. “Aye. Go on.”

“We can meet orders for tartan faster than many others, though only we know why. Otherwise, to do all this work, we would need eight or ten weavers to fill our orders. There are not that many weavers in this glen. Margaret’s Robbie is a weaver too and could merge his business with ours to help.”

“I have been meaning to speak to Margaret’s Robbie about that very thing. I will not be here forever at Kilcrennan.”

“Oh you will,” Elspeth insisted. “And I will help. You and I and Robbie could train new weavers. Margaret is a fine weaver too, but she has children that keep her busy for now. And with the tartan madness upon the city folk, Kilcrennan weavers will keep growing.”

“We do not need to fill all those requests, you know.”

“You have put your heart and soul into it. And we have relied on your magic.”

“I suppose we have,” he agreed. “I think Kilcrennan tartan cloth casts its own spell. Wearing our plaids brings happiness to people here and in the south.”

“It does. Grandda, please listen. You said yourself that if I fell in love, the magic would end. It would break the fairy spells over us. So I cannot fall in love. All this magic in the weaving would end. Kilcrennan would end.”

“Perhaps that is not so bad. You would be happy. That would be worth it. But I want to see you safely away from here. I have not changed my mind about that.”

“What makes you think I am unhappy? I love Kilcrennan. I love my work.”

“It is enough for now. But not for all your life.”

She sighed. “Do you remember the day you took me to the place where the fairy portal is hidden, and you told me about the fairies and all? I was fourteen. You said if I ever found true love, all binding agreements would be broken.”

“Is that the problem?” he asked quietly. “You are in love and it scares you.”

She nodded wordlessly.

“Love is the greatest magic humans possess,” he said. “It is more powerful than fairy magic. It can remake any spell, solve any problem, satisfy any bargain, defeat any ill of body or soul.”

Love makes its own magic. She remembered the motto of the MacCarrans. “But I cannot knowingly let Kilcrennan—and you—come to an end.”

“Your happiness is all I have ever wanted, lass. Your happiness and safety. I do not want to lose you to the fairies. But I will happily lose you to a man who loves you.”

“What about your happiness and your incredible gift? Truly, I still do not know if I believe all of this or not. What if I stay and they never come for me? What if we find another way to make peace with all this? I will not destroy it for you.”

“Is that why you refused Struan? For me?”

She nodded, knowing it for the truth, fighting tears. “Also because of the threat to Struan if he should marry me—who knows what would happen to him, or to you, if I fall in love and leave this place? There is the lost fairy treasure to find too.”

“Ah,” he said. “You are so like the fairies. Capricious. Charming. Beautiful.”

“Please listen,” she pleaded. “I want to stay at Kilcrennan, and never fall in love.”

“Too late,” Donal said. “You are far gone in love now. That is the real treasure, lass. Do not give it up for any reason.”

Scratching his inked pen over paper, James sat at his desk recording his most recent findings and thoughts.

Earlier that day, while afternoon sun slanted golden through the windows, he had labeled the rocks and bits he had collected up in the hills, arranging them neatly on a small table.

Now he was eager to develop his thoughts about the finds.

Lava, volcanoes, floods, tidal waves, earthquakes, and other catastrophes caused massive shifts of land and sea, he wrote.

The physical record formed then and remains now in rock and stone: ripples and layers seen in rock, cracks formed in mud that dried in the heat of the sun and turned to stone, and the fossil remains of marine shells, plants, mammals, and reptiles—.

Osgar sat up from his nap by the desk and whined.

James glanced down. “Did you know,” he said to the dog, “that even before the Greeks, man has noted evidence of a long-ago sea that surged as high as the mountains? Did you know whole continents once lay underwater? Or so we think. Rock preserves a record of the truth and the secrets of the earth and astute observers can interpret them. The past is key to our present and our future. Ah!” He scribbled the words.

The dog tipped his head as if trying to understand. James sighed and thought of Elspeth, who would surely have listened and asked something that would stir his thinking. He felt a sharp longing, missing her. She was never far from his thoughts.

Sanding the ink, blowing gently, he set the paper aside and reached for his grandmother’s manuscript. He needed to finish this wretched fairy business and move on with his research—though he dreaded breaking ties with Elspeth when the fairy nonsense was done.

A knock at the door had Osgar leaping to his feet with a deep woof. James stood and opened to door to admit Eldin, who looked his usual grim and unreadable.

“Come in, Nick. May I send for coffee or tea?”

“Thank you, no. John and I will depart shortly for Loch Katrine. What a handsome animal,” his cousin said, petting Osgar. “A proud and ancient breed.”

“Aye.” James wished Osgar would growl at him, but the wolfhound merely nudged his head under Eldin’s hand for more. Greedy beast.

“I only need a moment of your time. Mr. Browne mentioned to me that you may sell this house. I am prepared to offer generously for it.”

James frowned. “I have not decided.”

“James,” his cousin said. “You should know that the addendum in Aunt Struan’s will regarding my role in the inheritance was entirely her doing. I did not influence her.”

“You corresponded with her often over business dealings, so you could easily have discussed it with her.”

“I only assisted her in some investments. She placed some capital in enterprises such as jute, herrings, and salt to support Scottish industry. She made more than a little profit in illicit trading as well to support the whisky industry in particular. My aunt believed that Highlanders had suffered enough in the Jacobite rebellion and the Clearances that tossed them from their rightful homes and lands. Her intention was to help Scotland, but she earned extra funds that way.” He shrugged.

“She seems to have added me to the will as a contingency if her wishes are not met.”

“Then you know the conditions of the will.”

“I do, and I wish all of you luck with it. Very unusual.” His eyes were an intense dark blue, cool and hawkish.

“Some of us are convinced that you exerted influence over her.”

“I did not. Nor was I responsible for other unfortunate events in the family,” he responded in a cold tone. “I am unfairly accused of causing Archie MacCarran’s death.”

“You watched our cousin, Fiona’s betrothed, fight and die on a bloody battlefield and stood by when he needed help,” James growled. “You choose to save yourself.”

He glanced down at James’s leg. “You did not save him either. But you were seriously injured and must not recall the day correctly.”

“I do,” James said, on the verge of throwing the man out. Beside him, Osgar barked loudly and trotted to the window that overlooked the lane that led to the house, then stood to his impressive height, paws on the glass, barking again.

“What is it?” Eldin asked.

“Visitors,” James said, seeing a gig pass beneath the trees to approach the house. The dog woofed again. “Down, lad,” James told Osgar. But he knew why the wolfhound was excited. A person dear to him was on her way. Dear to James as well.

Elspeth rode beside Donal MacArthur. She wore a plaid shawl, and her bonnet partly covered her dark-as-night hair.

“Ah,” Eldin said. “Would this be the Highland bride, by chance?”

James frowned at that, wondering how his cousin had heard about that. The Earl of Eldin was an odd one, though. Perhaps, like Elspeth, he had the Sight.

“I do not know what you mean.” James patted Osgar’s great gray head.

“I think you do. But as I said, I will not take up your time. I only wished to extend an offer to purchase the place. I have fond memories of visiting my aunt and uncle here.”

James wanted to ask if the man had any fondness in him. “Thank you. Good day.”

After a moment, calling Osgar to follow, he left the room. As soon as he stepped into the corridor, a shriek echoed overhead. He glanced around just as Mrs. MacKimmie came around the corner.

“ Och, the banshee is awake again! But our laird is already here, and it is only the weaver and his granddaughter arriving. Oh!” She looked at him. “Oh, aye!”

“What is it, Mrs. MacKimmie?”

“What if the laird’s bride is here?” she asked with a mischievous smile.

He huffed a wry laugh. “Please prepare tea for the MacArthurs.”

“Grandda, this is not the way back to Kilcrennan!” Elspeth said as her grandfather turned down the earthen lane that led to Struan House. The manor, visible through the trees, was a pale stone elegance backed by autumn-bright hills under a blue sky.

“The glen road is in poor condition after the flooding. We’ll go this way.”

“This only goes to Struan House.”

“I forgot to answer the laird’s dinner invitation.”

“Send our refusal by post or messenger. Stop, please. I am not ready to see Lord Struan today,” she added miserably, reaching up to tuck loose tendrils of hair under her shabby brown bonnet, then smooth her equally shabby brown skirts and the old red plaid over her shoulders.

She was dressed for weaving and errands, not for company, certainly not to see Struan.

Pinching her cheeks, she realized they were likely already pink from the chilled air and sudden embarrassment.

“The laird also asked you to work with him on his writings. And to marry him. If you want to refuse him, do it yourself, for I will not.”

“What a devious thing to do, Grandda!”