Sarah Gabriel (28 page)

“Such a relief to see that you’re not hurt,” Fiona said. “The others have been so frantic. We’ve been searching for you. Donal MacArthur said the cave was empty, but for your coats and things. He went to look for you, and came back very concerned.”

“So Donal, Angus, and I went out each day, walking the hills and the mountain by the loch,” Patrick said. “Cousin Nick met us there just yesterday to help as well.”

“Eldin helped you?” James asked.

“He muttered something about finding fairy gold, but he seemed interested in your welfare, especially Elspeth’s, I think,” Fiona said. “Though if you found any treasure, do not tell him. He asked so often about it that greed may be his real reason.”

“No treasure,” James said succinctly. “A few crystals.” He pulled his hand from his pocket and opened his palm. “And a few beautiful gems perfect for a ring.”

“A ring?” Fiona asked. “Why are we talking about
jewelry, when your lives were in such danger? You’re tired and in need of water, food, and rest. Come inside.”

“Thank God you are safe,” Patrick said. “How on earth did you find your way back here through the grotto?”

“Connected underground caves,” James said. He looked down at Elspeth, into her eyes, like silver and aquamarine in the sunlight. He drew her close again, leaned his head against hers, savoring the feel of her in his arms—real, warm, his own bride. “Just that.”

She smiled, her eyes sheened with tears. “Shall we explain it, James?”

“I doubt they would believe it,” James said, and glanced at his brother and sister. “We were a bit lost, I suppose. That’s all.”

“See, it’s what I told Donal all along,” Patrick told Fiona.

“But we were not in danger, after a point. We took our time, and oh—we got married,” James said.

“Married! How, without a license, or a pastor, or—or guests!” Fiona said. “Aunt Rankin will have a conniption.” She smiled.

“There are ways to marry in the Highlands,” Elspeth said.

“Not terribly legal,” Patrick grumbled. “You will need a proper wedding.”

“That would be lovely,” Elspeth said, tucking her arm around James’s waist.

“Well,” James said, “I did need to find myself a Highland bride, one with fairy blood. I’ve done just that.” He kissed Elspeth’s brow.

Fiona laughed merrily. “Grandmother would be so pleased to see this.”

“Come now, neither of you believe in fairies any more than I do,” Patrick said.

“Do I not?” James asked. “You will each have your turn to find out for yourselves, William as well. But I will warn you”—James could hardly keep from smiling—“though it may not prove easy…it will certainly be an adventure.”

January
1823

“S
urely we cannot fit another blasted thing into that carriage,” James said, stepping back to survey the old Struan landau, packed full with belongings—most of them not his own. His breaths blew misted in the chilly air, and his boot heels crunched on the snow-pack that lined the drive. “We may have to take two carriages for this trip. Are you certain the loom has to come with us?”

“It does, my dear,” Elspeth said, coming to stand beside him. “If we are to spend the winter in Edinburgh and stay through to spring so that you can finish your lecture series, then I must have my loom to keep me occupied, or I shall be insanely bored.” She smiled mischievously, her face framed by a black velvet bonnet and the high neck of her dark plaid redingote, her gloved hands deep in the ermine muff he had presented her for Christmas.

Hidden inside her gloves and the muff was the am
ethyst and diamond ring he had commissioned for their wedding two months previously, but he knew she wore it with pride, and joy for what it represented, and delight in its fairy-gem sparkle.

“Insanely bored!” He laughed, feeling good-natured despite the loom dismantled and strapped rather conspicuously to the back of the landau—Lady Rankin would no doubt call them Gypsies when they arrived at the Edinburgh town house. He reached out to hug Elspeth close. “I can think of ways to keep you occupied, none of them boring.” He nuzzled at her cheek, where pink bloomed from cold and a blush.

“I would dearly love that,” she murmured. “But whenever you are busy with your classes, your writings, and your beloved rocks, what will I do with myself?”

“Lucie Graeme will be dragging you off to teas and parties to introduce her dearest cousin, the new Lady Struan. You will have little time for weaving.”

“The eccentric Lady Struan will make time for weaving,” she said. “And when word gets round of it, there will be no more invitations.”

“Nonsense. The eccentric, unique, brilliant, and ravishingly beautiful Lady Struan,” he said, “will make weaving a new rage among the ladies of Edinburgh.”

She laughed. “I will have no time to teach them, for I must complete a MacCarran plaid for my husband—it is Highland custom for a new bride. It should be woven in their Highland home. However, we will make an exception this time—”

“You are always the exception, my girl,” he said, teasing.

“And by early summer, you have promised that we will be back at Struan House, to spend the months
through until winter comes again. And hopefully Lord Struan will find enough to do for a few months, until the university opens in September.”

“I will have more than enough to do on the estate, having been away so long. Though Angus MacKimmie will do a fine job watching after everything until then.” He nodded to Angus, who nodded back, busy tying the last of the luggage to the back of the landau. “I think this may be my last semester lecturing for a little while.”

She turned to him with a little gasp. “Is it so? We will live here at Struan House?”

“Well, moving between homes does seem our best arrangement for a while,” he said. “But Grandmother’s fairy book is complete—with the invaluable help of you and Donal—and now that it is in Sir Walter’s capable hands, I must work on my book about geognosy. I plan to begin a study of Scotland’s ancient rock layers as well. That latter project will keep me exploring, and living, in the Highlands.”

Elspeth leaned her head against his shoulder. “That is wonderful. I need to be here more than in the South, for my grandfather.”

“I know,” he murmured. “And I would not mind being a Highland laird most of the year. I can arrange to act as a visiting scholar at the university rather than a resident lecturer.”

“It is good for me to be near Grandda most of the year. With the fairy spell off him, he has slowed at the weaving, and there is a great deal of work at Kilcrennan.”

“He has Robbie Lamont to help. Besides, Donal has more on his mind these days than weaving, with a new wife to keep happy. Though I’ve never seen such
contentment in a couple—as if Peggy and Donal have been wed fifty years instead of two weeks,” he said. “I have every hope we will continue as happy as they are in our later decades.”

“What, with me going off to the fairy realm every seven years for a day or two, and you accepting of it? That is what Donal agreed to do just to see Niall. Oh, but I think you might like to go there to see what rocks and gems they’re hoarding there.”

“Do not ask too much of my tentative acceptance,” he said wryly. “I have not decided what happened, though I have ceased to question. I still wonder if I struck my head on a rock that day, and dreamed the whole incident.”

She tugged his hat lower, and made a face at him. “That was no dream. But the rest, oh, may this all be a dream we will enjoy forever. The others are coming now,” she said, turning. “They said they would be here in time to bid us farewell.”

He glanced around, but saw no one on the lane leading to the house. “Odd.”

“Coaches coming,” Angus called then, from his higher post, balanced on the carriage frame. “Two of them, a gig and a barouche.”

“Barouche?” James asked quickly.

“Black barouche, sir, and very fine,” Angus said. “Same as was here before.”

“Nick,” James muttered. “What the devil does he want?” He walked a little along the lane, and Elspeth came with him. “Ah. There they are. We expected Donal and Peggy, but what business does Eldin have here? He withdrew his offer on the property, of course, and until the will is finalized—all four siblings must meet our conditions before the moneys would ever be
transferred—he has no business coming here, or seeing any of the MacCarrans, so far as I’m concerned.”

Elspeth tucked her hand inside the crook of James’s elbow. “Remember, he did help search for us when everyone thought we were lost.”

“He wanted the treasure,” James said. “And no one knows, but your grandfather and we two, where that is. We told no one about that pocket mine, and it will stay so.”

“It would be invisible to anyone who looked in those caves anyway.”

“If you say so, my darling. Though if I went there, I know I could find it.”

“Because they would let you inside,” she said blithely. “We three, and no others.”

“Rationalize it how you will, we are still talking about fairies. I remain undecided. But intrigued,” he added. “I will give you that.”

“Here they are,” she said, leaving his side to dash forward on the snow-packed road, so that James hurried alongside her, not wanting her to slip. His own balance was quite improved, and on all but very cold and rainy days, or long strenuous walks, he managed without a cane. Highland air and exercise—or fairy magic, as Elspeth claimed—had been excellent for his leg. And his heart, come to that, he thought, smiling to himself.

The gig that carried Donal and Peggy rolled to a halt, and the newlyweds climbed down, wrapping Elspeth in embraces and warm, loving conversation. James stepped forward for handshakes and Peggy’s kiss, too, all the while distracted by the black barouche as it came closer.

“We will see you in Edinburgh,” Donal was saying.
“I will meet with the tailors to deliver new plaids next month, and go over the next group of commissions. Whatever is that raven-hearted rascal doing here?” He looked around, too.

“I do not know,” James said grimly, and walked away to meet Eldin’s barouche as it rolled to a halt, crunching on snow. He noticed a riderless, saddled horse tied to the back of the carriage, and wondered at that.

“Eldin,” he called, stepping forward as the coachman jumped down to open the door; he glimpsed his cousin in the shadows. “May we help you on this cold morning?”

Nicholas MacCarran, Lord Eldin, stepped smoothly from the carriage, his height equal to James’s, his great-coat black as raven wings, indeed, James thought. He doffed his hat and murmured a greeting. “Struan,” he said then. “It was I who came to help
you
.”

James frowned. “How so?” Behind him, he heard footsteps, and then Elspeth placed her gloved hand on his arm. He pressed her hand to his side, all the while looking at Nick. “We are about to leave. I wish we could offer you hospitality, but—”

“Good morning, madam,” Eldin said, taking Elspeth’s gloved hand. “Excellent to see you again. You are looking in fine health. Both of you,” he added, his gaze dropping to James’s leg, no doubt noting the missing cane.

“Lord Eldin, welcome. May we offer you coffee or chocolate this cold morning? We have time,” Elspeth said, glancing at James. “Donal and Peggy are here, too, and Mrs. MacKimmie is preparing a small repast before we depart.”

“I regret I cannot join you, as I must return to
Auchnashee. The refurbishments to the castle are going well, provided I supervise. Today I came here only to ask, Struan, if you would convey my best to Miss Fiona, and extend her my invitation to stay at Auchnashee when she comes north again. Free of charge, of course,” he said, though his tone was stiff. “We are family.”

James stared at him, unsure what to say, probing in his mind any possible motive. “I did not…realize Fiona was coming north anytime soon.”

“I believe so,” Eldin said, smiling—that tight little smile never seemed to leave his lips—and yet James saw something in his cousin’s dark eyes, something he had not seen before, a flash of hope or vulnerability somehow, and gone.

“We will be sure to give Fiona your generous offer,” Elspeth said.

“The other reason I am here,” Eldin went on, “is to offer you the use of my barouche for your journey. I will not need it for a while, and your ghillie can drive it back to Auchnashee after you ride in style and comfort to Edinburgh. It does not do for the Viscount Struan and his new viscountess to travel like Gypsies.”

Now James gaped. “How did you know—that we were even leaving today?”

“I had a letter from Lady Rankin,” he answered. “She suggested the loan of the barouche. She feared you would lash all your belongings to the landau like a pair of tinkers. It seems she is uncertain what a girl with fairy blood might do.” He smiled at Elspeth. “I assured Lady Rankin in reply that the new Lady Struan would be exemplary.”

“Thank you,” Elspeth said. “We are honored by
the loan of your carriage. Are we not, James?” She pressed her elbow against his side.

“Of course,” James said. “Thank you.”

Eldin inclined his head and spoke to his driver. Politely refusing an offer of hospitality again, he mounted his horse and rode away. James stared.

“What the devil was that about,” he muttered. Elspeth slipped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder.

“We cannot puzzle him out now,” she said. “Let us go inside for a little while, and have some hot drinks with Grandda and Peggy and the MacKimmies, before we take the barouche and landau on our tinker parade across the Highlands.”

James laughed, hugging her close, standing in the middle of the snowy road, his breath coming in foggy clouds. Elspeth’s nose was pink in the cold, and he kissed it. “I suspect you are in no hurry to leave Struan House.”

“I would prefer to stay in the Highlands,” she said. “But I will go anywhere with you, Lord Struan. Anywhere at all, to the city or the hills, even if all you do is talk about your dear old rocks. You know that, I hope.”

He kissed her then, taking time for it, tender and slow, despite the cold. “Aye,” he whispered. “I know it well.”