Laird of Twilight (The Whisky Lairds, Book 1)

by Susan King

  Folding his hands on his walking stick, Donal looked stern. “I am listening.”

  “I have agreed to marry Lord Struan.” She reached out to take James’s arm.

  Her grandfather grinned suddenly. “Excellent! Will you take her to Edinburgh, Struan? And soon?”

  “We have not decided yet,” Elspeth said quickly.

  “Elspeth gave me one condition,” James said. “She asked my promise that we find the fairy treasure today.”

  “Good luck to us, then. That gold will not be found here or anywhere, I think,” Donal said. “Do you know what they say of Coire nan Uruiskin? Urisks are small goblin creatures who haunt rocky places and cause mischief. Some say they are fairies, some not. But they are helpful to humans if treated politely.”

  “Are the Fey rumored to be up here as well?” Elspeth asked.

  “The Sidhe do come up here, so they say. Inside that wee cave, there is said to be a portal to the fairy realm. But I have not found it.”

  “It may be good place to search for the treasure, Grandda.”

  “Do you think their treasure would be just under their noses, in their own parlor?” Donal asked. “Then it would not be missing. It has to be elsewhere, and we must find it.”

  “Grandda, perhaps you should tell Struan why this is so important to you.” Donal MacArthur sighed, nodded.

  James reached into his coat pocket and drew out a folded paper. “First, I wanted to show this to both of you. I found it in my grandmother’s manuscript. She wrote of a weaver and his son who met with the fairies. And she mentioned a girl-child who was given into the weaver’s care.”

  “Did she now,” Donal said, and did not sound surprised.

  “Let me see.” James handed her the page and she read quickly, next handing it to her grandfather. He read it, nodding, and circled it back to James.

  “That is the story you have always told me, Grandda,” Elspeth said. “I did not know you have shared it with Lady Struan.”

  “I told her some of it. How she knew the rest about Niall, how he was taken, I cannot say. But what she has written here is true. Struan, you must believe.”

  “Truthfully, I am not sure what to think,” James admitted. “But if you say it is so, then I will do my best to believe it.”

  “Thank you, Struan,” Donal said.

  James tucked the page into his pocket. “And Elspeth’s birthday? When is that, exactly?” He looked at her. “You have never said.”

  “October the twentieth,” she replied. “Four days from now.”

  “I would offer felicitations,” James said, “but I think you will not be happy until you see the twenty-first of October.”

  She smiled, then shivered and drew her plaid shawl snug against the chill wind. “Grandda, where are the corrie and the cave?”

  “I tell you, the treasure is not there. We should stay away.”

  “I want to see the place,” James said. “There is bound to be something of value for my work.” He reached into his leather knapsack and brought out a stone, cradled in his hand. “There could be other stones like this one.”

  “The wee blue stone! You have it!” Donal reached out for it, turning it in his hand. “Oh aye, this is the one.”

  “It was in a collection in the house. But if it belongs to you, please take it,” James said. “But I would like to know where it was found originally. Blue agate is rare, and a deposit here could be an important geological discovery.”

  “I did not find this one. It was given to me by a fairy queen years ago, to be used as a key to their realm on the days whenever I go there—”

  “Go there?” James repeated. “To the fairy world?”

  “I tried to tell you,” Elspeth said. “You thought it a lot of fairy nonsense.”

  “Most do,” Donal remarked. “Aye, lad, I have seen similar stones in this mountain, and in the hill behind Struan House. You should look there.”

  “I shall. For now, let us proceed up to the cave.”

  As Donal led them up the slope, James walked steadily with the aid of the stick, his stride sure, his gait slightly uneven. Yet Elspeth knew that no matter how strenuous the walk was in places, he would not complain, would not stop.

  The sky clouded over in a cool mist, and soon Elspeth felt raindrops on her head and cheek as she and the men took the upward slope at a good pace. They advanced along a crooked path formed in a narrow dip between two foothills, like a tuck in a quilt. A runnel of water trickled downward, cutting between rock and turf. Ahead lay a vast piling of rock and scree that had tumbled down eons ago from the massive black shoulders of the mountaintop far above.

  Now and then, James stopped, and Elspeth and Donal waited. She thought he wanted to rest his leg, though he did not mention it. Instead, he picked up rocks and examined them, sometimes cracking away small samples to drop into his sack, sometimes simply skittering them down the mountainside. He and Donal sent a few flying, with chuckles, which seemed to relieve some of the tension that had gathered. Elspeth thought that the mountainside had begun to feel ominous and secretive. She shuddered, looking around.

  “Limestone with marine fossils, and signs of the Old Red Sandstone layer,” James said, half talking to himself. He moved to another section. “This seems volcanic beneath,” he murmured to no one in particular. With a pencil and small notebook, he wrote something down, muttering. “Granite and basalt. Fascinating.”

  Elspeth smiled, happy to see him content in his work. She looked over at her grandfather, who was shaking his head.

  “What is so interesting about a lot of old rock?” he asked, and she laughed.

  Along the way, James brushed his hand over a section of dull gray rock as if it was the finest marble. He picked up a few small stones nearby, handing them to Elspeth. She gasped when she saw the glitter of perfectly formed crystals, clear and peat-colored.

  “Rock crystal and cairngorm,” he explained. “Keep them. We will have them made into a brooch or a ring if you like.” Thrilled by the simple beauty of the stones, she thanked him, tucking the crystals in her skirt pocket.

  “A memento of the day,” she said, with the sudden fervent hope that she would come safely down from the mountain, and James and Donal as well.

  “This way. Sideways over the slope is easier here than straight up,” Donal said, leading them to the left. The ground was turf and rock, rough and runneled, and they relied on walking sticks and helping hands as they went. Above, Elspeth saw a desolate expanse of fallen rock, while overhead, mist gathered. Rain now pattered lightly over their heads and shoulders, splattering on the rocks.

  “Here is the corrie. The Goblin Cave is just there,” Donal said, pointing again.

  Ahead was a curved hollow of rock and a heavy scattering of loose stones—the corrie—and to one side, cutting into a cliff littered with scree, a dark opening in a fold of broad rock. With a low exclamation, James began to move toward it.

  “Struan, wait,” Donal said. “Here you see it. But we cannot go inside. It is not safe.”

  “We will be careful,” James said, as her grandfather shook his head soberly.

  “Grandda, we came all this way. We have to go inside,” Elspeth said.

  “The power of the Fey is too strong here. We should stay away. Though you both have more protection against them than I do.”

  “Why is that?” James asked.

  “Love,” Donal said simply. “It bonds you and guards you. Love is what will break their hold over Elspeth. Though it would be stronger if—” He stopped.

  “If what?” Elspeth asked. At that moment, watching the two men she loved most in the world, she could not imagine anything stronger than what she felt.

  “Stronger if you two were wed already. But the love is there, and should be enough.”

  “Should be?” Elspeth said, feeling a qualm. The rain came down in earnest now. She reached out a hand to James, and he took it. “Grandda, come inside with us. It will be dry there. And we can search to
gether for the fairy gold..”

  “It is not there. I told you, they will not have it there, in their own place.”

  “Mr. MacArthur, may I see the agate?” When Donal handed it to him, James held the rock up to the light. “Ah, just as I hoped. Come look. The hollow, and the crystal formation here—there is a definite similarity to the landscape—do you see?”

  Elspeth took the stone, holding it up to compare as James had done. The shapes and points came together into an image, and she gasped. “The crystal looks like the cave, but in miniature! How could that be?”

  Donal took the agate next, frowning as he held it up to the light. “I have seen this stone many times, and I have been up here , but I never noticed that before. How did you discover it?”

  “Elspeth noticed the cave in Niall’s painting, and last night I noticed similarities between the agate and the picture. That is why the Goblin Cave seems the best place to look for the treasure, even if you have searched here before.”

  “Why would Niall put that cave in his painting?” Donal was still frowning.

  “He may have left a clue,” James said. “He may have intended to help his father and his daughter by showing you where to find the treasure.”

  Donal tilted his head. “It sounds as if you are coming to believe in our fairies, Struan.”

  James cleared his throat. “I only noticed the detail. The rest is up to you.”

  “Grandda, James could be right,” Elspeth said. Her heart beat a little faster in excitement. “What if my father wanted to help, even though he could not tell you the secret directly?”

  “Huh,” Donal said thoughtfully. “But I have been inside. There is nothing but rock, and signs of the smugglers who use this place now and then. There is no treasure. But there is a fairy portal, invisible but dangerous. We must stay away.”

  “Nonetheless,” James said, shouldering his pack and grasping his walking stick, “I intend to go inside.”

  “If you want to fetch more rocks, it is a good place for that,” Donal said.

  “I intend to fulfill my promise to Elspeth. You both wait here.”

  “I am coming with you,” Elspeth insisted. What if James entered that cave and never returned? She had never been sure of Donal’s fairy stories—but here and now, in this place, they seemed more real than ever.

  “Any cave can be dangerous,” James said, “so you should wait here. Or you can walk back with Donal, and I will meet you later.” He kissed her cheek and turned away, but Elspeth grabbed his coat sleeve.

  “I am coming with you. Grandda, please, come inside where it is dry.” The world had turned gray and misty on the mountainside. Rain fell in earnest now, wetting her bonnet and plaid, spattering and slicking over the stones.

  “I am too old to bargain with the Fey.” He reached out, embraced her. “Find the gold, if it is inside there. They cannot harm you if you are with your love. That is your safety. He is your shield, and you are his.” He looked over her shoulder toward James, who was already proceeding up the slope toward the boulders that nearly obscured the cave entrance in the cliffside.

  “Do come with us.” She stepped back.

  “Eilidh,” he said. “You must guard yourself in the best way you can.”

  Her grandfather rarely used her Gaelic name. “What is that?”

  “If you were married to the man already, that would be the safest today. Love will protect you both. But a marriage bond made in love—ah, that is even stronger. If only you had married him before we came up here.” He sighed.

  “That day will come soon,” she assured him.

  “Eilidh.” Donal took her by the shoulders. “Marry him now, lass,” he said. “Take his hands in yours and wed him here in this old place, in the old way, before you enter that cave.”

  She stepped back, astonished at the suggestion. “We will have a wedding for all to celebrate when the time comes.”

  “That time is now. Give him your pledge forever, in love, before you enter that realm. Forge your bond now. A handfasting. I will witness it.”

  The wind whipped hard, pushing at her back, but she stood firm. “You truly mean this.”

  “I do. Go tell your man. I will wait and stand witness so all will know it was done. The Fey will know it too. Hurry.”

  She paused, wondering at the strange suggestion, but then she felt, suddenly and clearly as the strike of a bell, his utter seriousness, and the truth of it. He was right. So right. She drew up her skirt hems and turned to hurry after James, who was now exploring the rock formations near the mouth of the cave.

  As she approached, thunder grumbled overhead. The cave opening looked foreboding, and she stood in the rain, hearing thunder, seized with doubt and fear.

  “James!” she called, coming nearer. He had knelt to examine some rocks. Waving, unhurried, he broke off stone bits with a hammer.

  The black boulders that framed the entrance looked like granite sentinels as she came closer. She turned, seeing her grandfather following upward more slowly. Heart racing, thoughts spinning, she considered how best to explain her grandfather’s urgent advice, knowing how odd it would seem.

  James glanced up, beckoned. “There is much limestone, with excellent patches of granite,” he said. “And traces of chalcedony, a nicely translucent variety. Flecks of obsidian, too, with mica and quartz. Granite is a composite rock,” he went on, “and the degree of chalcedony in the rubble shows there could be agate here too.”

  “That’s wonderful,” she said, coming closer. Her heart was fluttering, hands shaking. “Such lovely rocks.”

  “Indeed. I am hoping for something of real geological significance inside the cave. The limestone is above a layer of granite, a sign of a marine era preceded by an time of intense heat. Quite possibly, volcanic activity transformed this mountain eons ago. Is your grandfather coming with us?” He looked past her, toward Donal.

  “He wants to wait, but he would like us to do something first.”

  “I noticed you talking with him. He seems especially worried.”

  “He is concerned for our safety. He thinks that the best way to protect us in this place is if we—” She hesitated, breathless.

  But he was aiming his double magnifying lens toward the rock. “Aye? Look, an excellent example of a trilobite. Fiona will love it. Aye, we will be safe, if what?”

  “If we marry before we go in there.”

  Chapter 21

  “If we—what, hurry?” The patter of rain on the rock was loud, and James thought for a moment she had said marry—but surely he had heard wrong.

  “Marry.” The hem of her gray gown brushed over the rocks as she knelt beside him. “If we marry. Now. Here.”

  James set aside the loupe and hammer to stare at her. Then, using the walking stick, he rose to his feet and took her hand to pull her up beside him. “Marry? Now?”

  “Aye.” Her beautiful eyes took on the color of rainclouds in this light. “Grandda says a bond of marriage is the only thing that will protect us inside the cave.”

  “I see.” He shook his head a little, bewildered, and glanced over her shoulder. Donal MacArthur waited not far, but giving them privacy. As he looked up, the old man nodded gravely. James looked down at Elspeth. “You resisted marriage quite firmly, then set a condition on it. The treasure.”

  “I changed my mind. I want to marry you with or without the treasure.”

  “Lass,” he said, as a feeling rose in him. Love, and a sense of belonging that he had not felt, fully, for a very long time. “My lass. I take it your grandfather insists?”

  Her eyes, silvery beautiful, met his. “He does. But you think it a silly notion.”

  “It is a charming notion. But—“ He shook his head, bewildered and intrigued. Elspeth had a disarming innocence, and yet deeper, puzzling secrets. “But what of my Herculean labor, and the need to prove my love by finding fairy treasure?”

  “You never have to prove it to me,” she said, taking his hand. “Never.
But Grandda knows more about this place, and the Fey, and he is adamant that we marry now, before risking the cave.”

  “How could we possibly do that?”

  “A handfasting, quickly done. Grandda will witness it, even though they can be done with just the two. But he wants it proved to one and all. Including the Fey.”

  He smiled, touched her cheek, still filled with the fulsomeness of love that went beyond what he could ever have imagined. Simple, warm, complete. Then he laughed. “You are a fickle fey creature, Elspeth MacArthur.”

  “Then it proves my fairy blood.” She smiled a little. “Struan, I will pledge with you here and now, if you want that too. The bond of our promise will keep us from harm. So Grandda says,” she added. “I know it is difficult to believe.”

  “And you? Do you believe it?”

  “I trust my grandfather, and if he says so, I will believe it.” She touched his chest. “If we declare our commitment in the old Highland way, it would be perfect. We could not have a finer wedding.”

  What threatened to overwhelm him now was powerful, the very feeling he had avoided for so long. Now he felt awash in it, cleansed by it, strong and renewed. He loved her, full and deep and real. He had never expressed it adequately. He would have to learn to let go of his reserve and share his feelings with her. Trusting her now was the first step on that path.

  He drew her close. “Then I am for it. Elspeth,” he whispered. “I love you.”

  “And I, you, so much.” She raised her face, her gaze direct and clear. “Now?”

  “While I doubt we need to protect against fairies, I am willing if you are.”

  “A vow here would be forever,” she said.

  “So be it. Let clergy and court come later.”

  “James,” she said, “what if you decide to live in the south, while I want to stay in the Highlands? We never settled that question.”

  “We will solve it. I will stay here as much as I can, and perhaps you will come to the city when I must be there. We can keep a house here and another there. And it may be,” he said then, surprising himself with the new revelation, “that I will want to be here always. I may decide to give up the university work and devote myself to research and writing—at Struan.”