Ahead loomed the long, distinctive shape of Sgeir Caran. Norrie guided the boat carefully through the treacherous path between toothy rocks as they approached Sgeir Caran, his focus intent as the sea sluiced and swirled through the maze of partly submerged rocks.
Then the black bulk of the rock soared above as the boat drew up inside its shadow. As the boat rose and fell with the slop-slop of the waves, two men came down the crudely cut stone steps to assist them.
*
“Hullo!” Alan Clarkesaid heartily as he helped them disembark on the stone quay. “It’s good to see you, Miss MacNeill!” He turned to Dougal. “You’re back just in time, sir.”
“Aye,” Dougal said as they climbed the stone steps toward the upper rock, Norrie with them, intending to fetch Sean. “I hear we have visitors.”
“Och, they came to see our progress,” Alan said. “They may contribute to the lighthouse funding and perhaps some futureprojects, so it is a good thing, it seems. Though inconvenient to have them here at such a time.”
“Are you still working on repairs following the gale?” Dougal asked.
“We cleared a good bit of damage and repaired what we could. And we retrieved all but one of the stones that were swept into the water. And that one is roped and ready to bring up. But there could be a problem with the rock beneath the water, sir,” Alan added. “Evan Mackenzie went doon the deep to check on the repairs as we brought up the fallen stones. He found a crack in the foundation stone.”
“How large?” Dougal asked quickly.
“A sizeable fissure. Evan will be glad to see you’re back. He has been anxious to go back down to measure it for shoring up. He will be glad of a partner—risky when we have but one diver. And I hope you recovered some funding while you were away. We will need it. Evan says we may have to build a sea wall.”
Dougal swore low and paused to ask Alan more questions. Standing on the topmost surface of the rock, Meg felt the heavy push of the wind across the plateau, whipping her cloak and skirt. She looked around, anxious to find Sean, Roderick, and the others.
Hearing Evan Mackenzie call out, she waved as he came toward them. Dougal hurried to speak with him, while Norrie turned to answer Alan’s questions about the ever-important subject of the weather, for the wind was rising and the rushing waves were tipped with white.
Then, across the width of the rock, she saw a group of men in dark suits and hats, some with canes, each one looking out of place. Roderick stood tall and broad in the midst of the visitors. With relief, Meg saw Sean, his hand caught in Roderick’s gloved fingers. Safe enough for the moment, but she only wanted her son safe with her—and his father.
“Sean!” She hurried forward, skirts billowing. Seeing her, he broke free and ran toward her. Stooping to catch him in her arms, she knelt to embrace him, knees in a cold puddle, but she hardly cared. Straightening, she looked up at the man who approached.
“Roderick,” she said coolly.
“Why, Lady Strathlin! What a fetching picture, mother and child. I am surprised to see you here. Have you ever come out to see the lighthouse construction?”
“I have. Why are you here? And why did you bring my son with you?”
“I came out with members of the Lighthouse Commission. Some of us are considering donating funds, but we were very interested to see the place, and see the progress. The boy wanted to come. No one objected. His mother was not here to care for him,” he chided.
“Sir,” she said pointedly, “I wonder that you have any funds to contribute. According to my secretary, you have been borrowing from me for the last three years. Yet now you are making promises to the lighthouse fund. Do you have another source of wealth?”
“To be honest, madam, I expect to be married very soon to a very wealthy baroness. I hope you have not reconsidered your promise, madam. That would be unpleasant.” He smiled and reached out to touch Sean’s golden head.
She pulled the boy away and stepped in front him, hiding her child behind her full skirt and petticoats. “But I have changed my mind,” she said. “I cannot marry you, Roderick. It is in fact quite impossible.”
He glowered down at her. “Impossible! I doubt that.”
“Good day, Mr. Matheson,” Dougal said, striding toward them. He tipped his hat. “I believe you are misinformed. The lady is already married.”
“She’s married!” Roderick barked out. “Preposterous. What would you know about it?”
“I am her husband,” Dougal said, offering his arm to Meg, who slipped her hand in the crook of his elbow, natural, familiar, solid, and safe.
“It is true,” she said, looking up at Matheson. “We are married.”
“That cannot be,” he muttered. “I saw you only days ago. You scarcely know each other.”
“Truth is—we were married years ago,” she said.
“Aye.” Dougal glanced down at her. “We had a simple ceremony, but we—became estranged. But we have reconciled and resolved our differences.”
“And you expect me to believe that? A clumsy lie to rescue the lady from embarrassment that she has earned, sir. She had a child out of wedlock, with no father, no husband in sight. I have it on the best authority.”
