He paused, and she sensed he had the same thought. “It is—more accessible,” he finally said. “We can build on it, and the visibility for passing ships is good. And though Lady Strathlin and her lawyers do not agree, the Lighthouse Commission has approved the work. This lighthouse goes up.”
“Then why meet with the baroness? You no longer want her permission. You have gone past her in that.”
“I want her cooperation. And we will need more stone, which can be quarried from Caransay’s hills for quality and convenience.”
“Quarry on Caransay? You cannot!”
“By government writ, I can. But I want Lady Strathlin’s approval. Caransay stone is good granite, and it can also bring more work to the men of this island.”
“They do not need the work. They have fishing and kelp industries. And the baroness helps the people of this island. She would insist that Caransay must not be ravaged or defaced. Its beauty has been undisturbed until now.”
“With every project, I make certain my crews respect the integrity of the land. Modernization is not an evil force, Miss MacNeill.”
“If improvement threatens to destroy eons of Nature’s fine work, there is evil in it. I suggest you consider abandoning your project here.”
“You are a fitting mouthpiece for the lady.”
“I must get back to Sean.” She whirled to walk down the slope, while he followed. The boy ran toward them.
“Did you see me in the water? I was swimming!” Sean puffed his chest proudly.
“You must never do that alone, you know that!” Meg spoke more sternly than she meant.
“Your mother is right, young sir,” Stewart said. “Never go out alone. But if you like, I can teach you how to swim the foam, as they say in the old songs. You would be safer.”
“No!” Meg said, alarmed suddenly. She touched Sean’s hair. “No.”
Stewart frowned. “He needs that skill, living on an island. I am glad to help.”
Fear went through her like a warning bell. “You do not need to teach him. I will do it. We will do it. Good day, Mr. Stewart. Come, Sean. We must get back.” She took the boy’s hand.
“Mr. Stooar!” Sean turned as he was tugged along. “I will see you again, aye?”
“I hope so, Master Sean,” he replied cordially.
Meg swept Sean along with her to join Thora and Elga, who sat with Anna a good length away. Meg glanced back to see Stewart strolling in the opposite direction.
I never give up,he had said.
Well, neither would she.
Chapter Seven
Days later, asoft, gentle rain fell on his hat and the shoulders of his dark coat as Dougal mounted the slate steps of the entrance to Clachan Mor. He lifted his hand and knocked. Though he hated wearing a hat, he had donned one out of politeness, and adjusted its brim. Damn, he had forgotten gloves. He shoved a hand in his pocket.
After a moment, the door opened to frame a tall, thin woman wearing a black dress, a white apron, and a lacy cap. She stared down her nose at him with dramatic effect, for she not only stood a step above him, she seemed as tall as he was—and he bested six feet without boots.
She was a gaunt, harsh harridan, despite the pretty silver curls beneath her little cap. Her eyes were steel as she looked him up and down. He felt like an untidy little boy. All the tutors he had ever known glared at him through this woman’s cold stare.
“Good day, madam. Is Lady Strathlin at home?”
“Who is calling?” she intoned.
“Mr. Dougal Robertson Stewart, resident engineer on the Caran lighthouse, come to see Lady Strathlin.”
She stared, implacable and disdainful. He did not doubt that the woman knew about his dispute with the baroness. Glimpsing movement in the shadows behind her, he saw the gleam of polished wood, brass, and crystal, rich Turkish carpetsand brocaded furniture. An open doorway showed a library lined with books. Its pocket door slid shut. Was the lady home after all?
“Lady Strathlin is not home at present, sir. Your card?”
