“I hear you will escort Miss Dora MacDonald and her grandmother to see a doctor. Dora—Miss MacDonald—told me about that. Thank you for helping her.”
“No thanks needed. You would do the same, given the chance.”
“I would accompany you, but I would be needed here in your absence. I want to show Miss MacDonald my support.”
“I gathered that your friendship is rather close.” Aedan lifted a brow.
“I’d like it to become closer, sir. I hope Dora feels the same, but I must wait a bit. I am not waiting to see if some treatment would improve her eyesight,” Rob added. “It makes no difference to me whether she can see or not. I’d court hernow if she’d allow it. She seems to share my interest, but she is reluctant—due to her situation.”
“When I saw her last, she blushed at the very mention of your name, and wanted news about Robert Campbell over anything else.” Aedan grinned.
Rob laughed. “Thank you. I’ve been cautious, not sure of her feelings.”
“Be cautious around fires and steam engines. But sometimes we need courage and boldness around the fair sex.”
“Spoken like a man who knows the terrain.” Rob studied him.
Aedan shrugged. “Some men have courage for everything but love. That may include me. Do not be like me, lad. I have faith in you.” Aedan clapped him on the shoulder.
The steam engine began to sputter, and Rob whirled. “I’d better turn off that infernal machine. The behemoth has had enough exercise for one day.” He strode away.
Frowning, reminded of his lost chance at love, Aedan gazed at the high ridge of Cairn Drishan. He noticed a small figure silhouetted near the site of the old wall. Her dark skirt billowed behind her, her blouse and straw hat showing pale in daylight gone cloudy.
She looked fragile compared to the massive and rugged slope, yet she also looked determined, undaunted by rising winds. He had to admire her strength and stubbornness, even though it conflicted with his determination to meet his own goals.
He stood for a moment, wondering if she saw him as he saw her. Wondering if she sensed the same pull he felt, like a gossamer thread spun out between them, tying a knot.
An aching need rose in him to go up there and declare his feelings, take the advice he had just given Rob Campbell.He wanted her desperately. The intensity of it shook him, astonished him, but he dared not acknowledge that need.
If the curse of his forebears held true, he would doom her if he declared his feelings for her, let alone married her as he wished, as he would do, given the freedom. He was not by nature a superstitious or fearful man, but the Dundrennan curse had shaken him years ago with the death of his fiancée. He would not risk that with Christina.
Hearing a rumble, he looked up to see greenish-gray clouds gathering in the west. He muttered a low oath. More rain would bring more mud…and more delays.
Thunder rolled through darkening clouds. The air felt charged with the power of a storm sweeping in. What drove through him in that instant felt even stronger, capable of shifting his life for good.
Change felt inevitable, but he was unsure where it would take him. He did not particularly like change, but he was a realist and could accept it. He could resist or surrender, but real change was an inexorable force.
Fat drops of water pelted his shoulders as he whirled and marched off, calling to his men to cover the great metal beast before the thing began to rust.
*
“Mrs. Blackburn!” Aedancalled as he climbed the slope. “A thunderstorm is brewing. Those clouds look ominous. Come down and find shelter.”
Startled, Christina glanced up from her position kneeling beside part of the old wall. Silhouetted against the pewter sky, Aedan seemed vastly tall. He glowered down at her, hands fisted at his waist. Today he wore a kilt and plain brown coat,and though he looked rugged and handsome, he did not look pleased.
“Good afternoon.” Resuming her task, she stretched a measuring tape across part of the souterrain’s stone cover. “I will not melt in the rain.”
“Nonetheless, there is always a danger of mud and rockslides up here. You need to be with someone on this hill, and not alone. Hector is down on the moor. When I saw him just now, he told me you might need me for something. Is it so?”
“Need you?” Her heart thumped. Oh aye, heart and soul, but she would not show it. “I am fine alone up here.”
He looked around. “Where are the Gowans?”
“If you must have a count of heads, Mr. MacDonald is on the moor, and Angus and his sons left to have lunch with Mrs. Gowan. I was invited, but I want to finish what I am doing and then I will go back to Dundrennan House.” She recorded measurements in her notebook, then drew the ruled ribbon over a rather large stone, stretching to reach.
Aedan dropped to his haunches, took the metal-tabbed end, and drew it out to span the stone. “You could come to harm up here alone. Three-and-one-half feet.”
She wrote down the number. “I am not helpless, sir. I can find shelter. But since you are here, you can catch me if I faint from the exertion of using my sewing tape,” she snapped as she yanked the tape outward to measure another edge.
