lighthouse will go up and the barracks will stay, and if she wishes to further discuss the matter with me, it must be in person. No more letters. I have had enough of her lawyers and her tricks."
"Tricks!" Meg leaned forward. "How dare you—"
"Come here." He took her arm, hard and insistent, a fire of awareness exploding through her at his touch. He drew her firmly beside him toward the incline of a rocky hill textured with flowering heather. She glanced back to be certain that her grandmothers were watching Iain, who had left the water and was once again digging in the sand.
At the top of the hill she saw an expansive view of the western side of the island. Dougal pointed toward the islet at the northern end of the island.
"Look there, Miss MacNeill. What do you see?"
"Guga," she said obstinately. "With the scars of your quarry work still raw upon her."
"I will grant you that. What else?"
She looked. "Nothing else."
"Precisely. Our barracks are gone."
"Oh!" She remembered that one of his letters had detailed losing those shelters to storms.
"We built some huts there. Gone now, as you can see. They were taken down by gales twice."
"Perhaps you should have taken that for a sign to stop."
"I told you I do not give up, Miss MacNeill," he said curtly. "Guga is an inhospitable rock. We set up tents and lived on Mull after that. My men were miserable with the weather and the daily sea journeys. When Lady Strathlin and her lawyers ignored my pleas, I told the commission that we must find a secure site on Caransay for our quarters or the work would be seriously delayed."
"You could have stopped it altogether."
"Never. This lighthouse goes up."
"And be damned to all?" She had never used such language, yet he did not blink over her boldness.
"Something like that," he said.
"Then why meet with the baroness? You want no one's permission but your own for what you do."
"I want her cooperation, especially since we must quarry more stone, and it must come from Caransay."
"What! You cannot quarry on Caransay!"
"Frankly, Miss MacNeill, I can do what I want, according to the writ. But I want the baroness's approval too. Caransay rock is better quality than from Guga. It's good gray granite, with few flaws."
"Mr. Stewart," she said, head lifted high, "the baroness will never approve that."
"The quarry would bring work to the men of this island."
"They do not need the work. The baroness helps the people on this island. We do not want Caransay ravaged or defaced."
"I always make certain that my crews respect the integrity of the landscape, wherever we work."
"Caransay has been undisturbed over the centuries."
"Modernization is not an evil force, Miss MacNeill."
"When improvement threatens to destroy centuries of custom and eons of Nature's fine work, there is evil in it. I suggest you think of your quarters here as only temporary, sir, for you will not be on Caransay much longer."
"You are a fitting mouthpiece for your baroness."
"I—I must get back to Iain." She whirled and walked down the slope, and he came with her. Soon the boy ran toward them.
"Did you see me in the water?" Iain asked. "I am learning how to swim!" He puffed his chest proudly.
"We did," Dougal answered. "When next we meet, young sir, I shall teach you how to swim the foam myself, as they say in the old songs. How would that be?"
"No!" Meg said quickly, touching Iain's shoulder. "No."
Dougal frowned at her. "He needs that skill, living here."
Fear went through her like the toll of a bell, like a warning. "It's not necessary for you to teach him. Good day, Mr. Stewart. Come, Iain. We must get back." She took the boy's hand and urged him along with her.
"Mr. Stooar," Iain said, turning, "I will see you again!"
"You will, sir," Dougal said cordially.
Meg swept Iain along with her toward Thora and Elga, who waited with Anna. She glanced over her shoulder, but Dougal had already gone. Oddly, his absence tugged at her heart.
Unwise to surrender
"Tricks!" Meg leaned forward. "How dare you—"
"Come here." He took her arm, hard and insistent, a fire of awareness exploding through her at his touch. He drew her firmly beside him toward the incline of a rocky hill textured with flowering heather. She glanced back to be certain that her grandmothers were watching Iain, who had left the water and was once again digging in the sand.
At the top of the hill she saw an expansive view of the western side of the island. Dougal pointed toward the islet at the northern end of the island.
"Look there, Miss MacNeill. What do you see?"
"Guga," she said obstinately. "With the scars of your quarry work still raw upon her."
"I will grant you that. What else?"
She looked. "Nothing else."
"Precisely. Our barracks are gone."
"Oh!" She remembered that one of his letters had detailed losing those shelters to storms.
"We built some huts there. Gone now, as you can see. They were taken down by gales twice."
"Perhaps you should have taken that for a sign to stop."
"I told you I do not give up, Miss MacNeill," he said curtly. "Guga is an inhospitable rock. We set up tents and lived on Mull after that. My men were miserable with the weather and the daily sea journeys. When Lady Strathlin and her lawyers ignored my pleas, I told the commission that we must find a secure site on Caransay for our quarters or the work would be seriously delayed."
"You could have stopped it altogether."
"Never. This lighthouse goes up."
"And be damned to all?" She had never used such language, yet he did not blink over her boldness.
"Something like that," he said.
"Then why meet with the baroness? You want no one's permission but your own for what you do."
"I want her cooperation, especially since we must quarry more stone, and it must come from Caransay."
"What! You cannot quarry on Caransay!"
"Frankly, Miss MacNeill, I can do what I want, according to the writ. But I want the baroness's approval too. Caransay rock is better quality than from Guga. It's good gray granite, with few flaws."
"Mr. Stewart," she said, head lifted high, "the baroness will never approve that."
"The quarry would bring work to the men of this island."
"They do not need the work. The baroness helps the people on this island. We do not want Caransay ravaged or defaced."
"I always make certain that my crews respect the integrity of the landscape, wherever we work."
"Caransay has been undisturbed over the centuries."
"Modernization is not an evil force, Miss MacNeill."
"When improvement threatens to destroy centuries of custom and eons of Nature's fine work, there is evil in it. I suggest you think of your quarters here as only temporary, sir, for you will not be on Caransay much longer."
"You are a fitting mouthpiece for your baroness."
"I—I must get back to Iain." She whirled and walked down the slope, and he came with her. Soon the boy ran toward them.
"Did you see me in the water?" Iain asked. "I am learning how to swim!" He puffed his chest proudly.
"We did," Dougal answered. "When next we meet, young sir, I shall teach you how to swim the foam myself, as they say in the old songs. How would that be?"
"No!" Meg said quickly, touching Iain's shoulder. "No."
Dougal frowned at her. "He needs that skill, living here."
Fear went through her like the toll of a bell, like a warning. "It's not necessary for you to teach him. Good day, Mr. Stewart. Come, Iain. We must get back." She took the boy's hand and urged him along with her.
"Mr. Stooar," Iain said, turning, "I will see you again!"
"You will, sir," Dougal said cordially.
Meg swept Iain along with her toward Thora and Elga, who waited with Anna. She glanced over her shoulder, but Dougal had already gone. Oddly, his absence tugged at her heart.
Unwise to surrender
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