She glanced up to see his frown. Wind lifted his hair, fluttered his shirt and cravat and stirred his jacket. Muscular, handsome, he seemed wholly part of this place somehow, strong and bold, earth wrought and mysterious. Even his black hair and blue eyes, his black clothing and gray vest, blended with the iron-gray stones embedded in the slope.
“Mrs. Blackburn, I hope you are not misled by a desire to discover something ancient here.”
“Sir?” She straightened, heart pounding, but reminded herself that he could not know her hopes for her uncle’s work.
“There is no treasure to be found here, no ancient tomb waiting to be discovered. My guess is that this is part of a collapsed black house, no more than a hundred years old, perhaps buried in a mudslide decades ago. Digging further might reveal furnishings, pottery, even a skeleton. I beg your pardon to mention so unpleasant a topic.”
“Not unpleasant—rather exciting, especially if the pottery and skeletal remains were centuries old! Such discoveries yield fascinating information about the past. If you wish to persuade me to abandon this task, or if you doubt a woman can be useful here, you are mistaken.”
“Madam, I could not care less if Neaves sent a man, a woman, or a bogle to examine this hill. This is likely a black house, given its location.”
“This is no black house,” she snapped. “I am already sure of that.”
“A shieling, then. A hut where crofters would camp out in summers when their cattle grazed on higher elevations. Just a lot of old, dirty stones to be moved out of the way.”
“I am no archaeologist—that is a fairly new science—but I will not dismiss this as unimportant. Not yet,” she repeated. “I must assess it carefully.”
“Be as careful as you like. Just be quick about it.”
She stood, brushing off her hands. “Why such a rush, sir?”
“The road must be completed by mid-October. You have a few days at most.”
“And you wish to be rid of me—for you have decided that my findings should be exactly what you want.”
He tilted his head, and she saw a spark of temper in his blue eyes, then a sigh of resignation that softened his expression. “Madam, you are welcome at Dundrennan for as long as you need. I ask only that you be efficient in your work, and I confess that I hope the stones prove insignificant.”
“I will not be rushed. And I will not be told what I think about this site.”
“I would not do that. I promise.” He stepped back. “I must go. Work awaits.”
“My work awaits as well. I will stay for a while, if you do not mind.”
“Very well.” He frowned again, a small tuck that he rarely lost. For an instant she was tempted to erase it with a finger. But it was there for deeper concerns than he admitted. She felt that was true, suddenly, and it puckered her own brow to realize it.
“I will be fine. Shall John and I wait for you to return in the gig?”
“Take the gig back when you please, and your brother can leave my horse here. My crew is working on the other side of this hill, and you can find me there if you need anything. Mrs. Gunn will likely expect you for luncheon, but I plan to stay here.”
“Before you go, there is one matter to discuss.” She knew he would not like it, and that frown would deepen between those dark-blue eyes. “Construction on this hill must cease for now. Any movement of earth and stone nearby could shift this area.”
“We have an area that must be finished now,” he said curtly. “We can suspend for a little after that. How long a ban would you impose, madam?”
“It is Sir Edgar’s request. He wants all roadwork within a mile halted until he can come here to make his determination. A few weeks, perhaps.”
He narrowed snapping blue eyes. “That is absurd.”
“A black powder charge could stir vibrations that would disturb this fragile find.”
“For the love of God,” he muttered. “That is slate and sandstone, not bone china!”
“As a civil engineer, you surely know the danger of tremors. Besides, the law of treasure trove dictates that the area remain protected until it can be studied.”
“Treasure has not yet been determined. If I lose Dundrennan because of these delays, or worse—” He stopped, turning half away as if to stifle temper and hold back something he would not share.
“Lose Dundrennan? What do you mean?”
“No matter.” MacBride shook his head. “Whatever you find, this road must go through. Good day, Mrs. Blackburn.”
