“Without a road over this hill, the two sections of highway down on the moorland are rendered useless,” Aedan said.
“I cannot help that.”
Aedan fisted a hand, then set it at his waist, coat and kilt whipping in the wind. “We have part of an alternate route on the other side of this hill. I have directed my crew to prepare the other slope. Blasting will begin soon, then digging and topping.”
“There must be no explosions near this site,” Edgar said.
“If these walls are unremarkable, that will not matter. This hill is on my estate and I am within my rights to do what I feel is needed.”
“It is not advisable, I warn you,” Edgar barked.
“Read this.” Aedan pulled a folded letter from his pocket. “An order from the Parliamentary Commission of Roads and Highways. This road must be completed by mid-October. I have permission to do anything necessary to complete the route for the queen to use when she travels this way. I intend to cut a path on the other side of this hill, and blasting will begin soon. Sir,” he clipped.
“That would be a mistake. Might I remind you that the new treasure trove law protects this discovery. Your men are required to dig in this area while I am here, so your crew will be shorthanded until the museum sends some assistance. I trust you will extend hospitality to any who arrive.”
“There is an inn at Milngavie,” Aedan said. “Any museum folk will be comfortable there. However,” Aedan added, “Mrs. Blackburn is welcome at Dundrennan for as long as she likes.”
“Mrs. Blackburn will return to Edinburgh,” Edgar said.
“Is that so?” Aedan looked at her quickly.
“Not so. I have decided to stay for a bit,” she said.
“Nonsense,” Edgar said. “There is no reason for you to stay, Christina. You have plenty to do in Edinburgh when we send pots and stones to the museum.”
“I believe the lady can decide for herself,” Aedan said.
“The lady,” Edgar said, “will listen to me. We have been courting for a time, sir. Please do not be so crass as to interfere. If I may be so bold as to hope, the lady will soon consent to be Lady Neaves. And she is already listening to my counsel.”
He touched Christina’s elbow in a proprietary way that sent unpleasant shivers through her. Frowning, she stepped out of reach.
“May he be so bold as to hope?” Aedan asked mildly.
“He may hope all he likes. It has nothing to do with me,” she snapped. “I am staying to finish what I began here.” She felt irritated with both of them suddenly. One loved her and had admitted it, but pretended otherwise. The other was incapable of love despite his grand proclamations.
She turned to snatch her walking stick from its position against a rock. “I’m going back to Dundrennan. You two can stay here and sort this out.” She walked away.
“Wait.” Moments later, Aedan caught up with her, reaching for her arm even as she pulled away. “Christina, tell me you do not intend to accept that blatherskite fool.”
She snatched her arm out of his grasp and stopped to glare up at him. “Which fool should I be with?” she said between her teeth. “A man I love, who wants me, but not for a lifetime? Or a man with a lofty opinion of himself who would take me for a lifetime, but treat me as if I’m invisible? I am leaving. You and Sir Edgar can stay here and lob rocks at each other, for all I care.”
She strode away without looking back, suppressing the sob that rose in her throat. She was done waiting and wondering. Her feelings for Aedan were deeper each day, and though he had said what she wanted to hear, he had set it aside again. As for Edgar, any respect she had for him had diminished. And she dreaded seeing the inevitable confrontation that would come between Aedan and Edgar over the matter of Dundrennan. And perhaps over her as well.
Her choice was clear, but she still did not know if Aedan could accept what she most wanted to offer him—her heart, her love, her life.
*
“Beast and behemothare here, lad,” Hector told Aedan, pointing to the ox-drawn cart lumbering toward the earthen slope with the steam shovel on the flatbed. “Rob is setting another charge of black powder.”
Aedan nodded. The raw-cut road, now grubbed free of undergrowth, was marked by wooden stakes that zigzagged up and around the shoulders of Cairn Drishan. High on the hill, Rob Campbell stood with a few of the men. Aedan lifted a hand to acknowledge them.
“We will clear out of the way when Rob gives the signal,” Aedan said. “Tell Kenneth Gowan to keep the behemoth at the foot of the incline, out of the way of debris.” Hector nodded and hurried off to give the orders.
Sighing, exhausted after a couple of long days and nights, too, working on the road, Aedan set hands on hips. He surveyed the road, able to see from this vantage point how far they had advanced in just a few days. Lately, he stumbled to his bed late at night, and was up before dawn to go at it again. Last night he had worked into the wee hours and had slept beside Effie MacDonald’s hearth, too tired to ride back to Dundrennan.
He had hardly seen Christina since the day she was with Neaves on Cairn Drishan, the day she had stomped off, upset with him again. He wanted to straighten it out, tell her his feelings, his new plan, but he had neither time nor focus. Not yet, not with Edgar Neaves here mucking up his plans every time he turned around, or so it seemed.
Three times he had gone to the excavation site to consult with Hector and the Gowans about the roadwork—Neaves was demanding their time and Aedan had tried to accommodate in consideration of treasure trove requirements and whatnot. He had seen Christina once or twice on the hill, but Edgar Neaves had always been with her. Aedan had greeted her, and she had returned it, looking distracted. And looking pained, to be honest,though Aedan suspected it had naught to do with him. Edgar Neaves was a pest, that seemed clear; Aedan wanted to plant his fist on the man’s long nose, but had no time for that, either.
