Returning to the house, she walked past MacGregor and Mrs. Gunn. Their gazes were soft with sympathy and concern. Clearly they loved the laird and wanted him to be happy, wanted that for her as well. Lifting her chin against stinging tears, she headed to the library, where her ongoing work awaited, and she could be alone.
There had to be a way to save them—and Dundrennan—but how?
*
“Where is he?”Aedan demanded over the groan and rasp of the steam shovel. Hector turned as Aedan strode toward him.
“Where is who, what?” Hector called.
“Neave! Did he come this way?”
“Sir Edgar? I saw him walking up to Cairn Drishan just now.” Hector pointed.
“What would he want up there now?” Aedan scowled, searching the hillside. “No one is there at the moment. Mrs. Blackburn is at the house.”
“He might be looking for ye, lad, to fash ye over summat that doesna please him,” Hector said. “He ordered Angus and the lads to be on the hill at screech o’ day tomorrow to move those pots to a cart.”
“Damn it,” Aedan muttered. “I’ll go after him. She does not want the pots moved.”
“Would he do fisticuffs wi’ a bonny lass over auld pots?”
“Fisticuffs with me,” Aedan growled. “Perhaps now, if he’s up there.”
“Wait for the rain to start. See that sky? That rascal will scurry back to the house fast enough in a spit o’ rain.” Hector chortled.
“Huh.” Aedan gave a reluctant laugh. “Best get back to work before the weather changes. Work as long as you think necessary. I’m off for the hill.”
“If I see that rascal flying o’er the top o’ Cairn Drishan, I’ll know why.”
Laughing despite himself, Aedan walked along the shoulder of the hill, where the raw strip of road was now lined with gravel. Behind him, a grinding sound emanated from the mechanical monster.
“Lewis Gowan!” Hector called. “Back that beastie up! That damn shovel is striking rock just there. Take it from another angle!”
Heading toward the harsh profile of the peak against yet another gray-clad sky, Aedan frowned. Why was Neaves in such a hurry to move the pots into a workroom in Edinburgh? If he suspected something valuable might be there, he could claim it wholly for the museum rather than divide it with the Dundrennan estate.
Fuming, Aedan sped up along the path and took the rough incline to the top of the hill. He spied the man walking the perimeter of the ancient foundation, and saw that Neaves wasnot alone. Angus and his son Kenneth were with him as Neaves pointed, clearly giving directions.
So. He would try to behave this time. Next time, he would send the man flying, as Hector suggested.
“Neaves!” he shouted. “Neaves!”
Sir Edgar turned, saw him, and rather than go to meet him, he backed into Angus as if seeking protection. Aedan barreled toward him.
“What do you want?” the man replied, stepping back again as Aedan came close.
“I want you off my property.” He flexed a fist at his side, set his jaw, glared. “Time for you to go.”
“I am not done. There is work to be done here.”
“You’ve done enough,” Aedan said. “Pack up. My driver can take you to Milngavie to catch a train tonight. If it’s not running, spend the night there and go in the morning.”
Neaves lifted his chin. “I am supervising the excavation.”
“Mrs. Blackburn is doing that admirably well. She does not need you here. Go back and write your reports. She will inform you of any further discoveries when she wants.”
“That is not the arrangement I have with her.”
“I do not care what arrangement you think you have. Leave now, or be escorted.” Aedan glanced at Angus, who nodded curtly and took a step toward Neaves.
