Page 84 of Laird of Twilight

“Or so my grandfather insists.” She smiled tremulously.

“That is not easy to comprehend—” He stopped as a knock sounded on the partly open door. Elspeth leaped, startled. “Who is it?” he asked in a gruff tone.

“Fiona,” his sister said. “Patrick is with me. The others have gone out to the garden. May we come in?”

Struan muttered consent, and Elspeth stepped away, smoothing her gown and shawl, tucking hair tendrils back in place. When the MacCarrans entered, Struan shut the door.

“Now then,” Patrick said. “What’s the kerfuffle? Aunt Rankin went back to her room, apparently in need of rest after your revelations. Charlotte went off in a huff, dragging Philip with her. And though your study door is open, it was clear that the two of you are not working, but arguing .”

Elspeth stood silent, hands folded, cheeks blazing.

“Miss MacArthur,” Fiona said then, “though it may sound mad, I must ask. Do you have any rumors of fairy blood among your ancestors?”

Elspeth lifted her chin. “So I am told.”

“Quite a bit, apparently,” Struan drawled, running a hand through his hair.

“Excellent,” Fiona said. Elspeth blinked at her. “James, how exciting. You have found her!”

“Found me?” Elspeth asked stiffly.

Struan leaned against the large desk. “I warn you, she is not happy with me over this fairy scheme. And when the fairies are angered, I hear, they are not very cooperative.”

“Fairy scheme?” Elspeth asked. “And do you expect me to be cooperative?”

“Is that an admission that you do indeed have fairy blood?” Patrick asked. When Elspeth deliberately looked daggers at him, he raised his hands submissively.

“Our grandmother’s will requires that each of us find and marry someone of fairy blood,” Fiona said. “She wanted to restore the fairy legacy to the MacCarran clan, or at least that is what we believe.”

“Without the conditions, none of us can inherit,” Patrick said.

“In that case, Lord Eldin becomes the primary heir,” Fiona added.

Stunned, Elspeth stared at them, trying to sort it through. “Perhaps Lady Struan hoped to change your minds about theDaoine Síth. She believed the tales.”

“The what?” Patrick asked.

“The fairies,” Fiona translated. “The peaceful ones.”

“Not so peaceful when crossed,” Struan added, leaning against the desk.

Elspeth ignored that. “Lady Struan knew that the next Lord Straun would need to appreciate the strength of fairy tradition in this glen. And the presence of the fairies, as so many here believe it.”

Patrick nodded. “That could be. She knew more about the subject than most, and she did think we were all far too practical, in need of more fancy in our lives.”

“Now I have to wonder,” Struan murmured, “if you, Elspeth, were the very proof she sought to present to us. She knew you and your family.”

“Is it possible that Grandmother lured you here, Jamie, to bring the two of you together?” Fiona smiled. “Perhaps she felt sure you two would suit each other.”

Elspeth hesitated, meeting James’s glance. The strength of that blue tidepool drew her in. “If you want to believe something, it could be so.”

“Given all the fairy nonsense—er, the fairy lore in Miss MacArthur’s family, perhaps Grandmother did hope we would meet.” He turned to his siblings. “And when Elspeth came to Struan House, circumstances, ah, conspired in such a way that it seemed prudent to offer to marry her to avoid a scandal.”

“But I have refused,” Elspeth said.

“Oh my dear,” Fiona said. “I do hope you will change your mind.”

“Miss MacArthur, if I may,” Patrick said, “you would do our family a great service by marrying Jamie. Fairy blood or none,” he added, looking at his brother, “I quite like the young lady and very much approve. Fiona?”