Read Online Enraptured by Candace Camp - Free Book Online Page B

stones.”
    â€œAye? Are you interested in it as well?”
    â€œOh, yes. Its entrance—the narrow end, where there is that great jumble of large rocks—lies in a direct line to the two stones standing beyond either end of the ring. That had to be purposeful; it is too exact to be happenstance.”
    â€œThat is unusual?”
    She nodded. “In my experience, it is. Barrows vary in size, some large, some small, some oval, some rectangular. But I have not seen this alignment with the standing stones before. I should very much like to study it.”
    â€œInstead of the ruins?”
    â€œOh, no! I meant, in addition to the ruins, I want to open the barrow. Does it belong to the earl as well?”
    â€œThe ring and barrow do not ‘belong’ to anyone, to my way of thinking, but to everyone.”
    â€œYes, of course. It is our common history; it’s important to everyone. But the land must be owned by somebody.”
    â€œIt’s on Duncally lands. But Damon gave that part, where the stones and barrow lie, to his wife as a wedding gift. He knew Meg holds it dear.”
    â€œWhat a wonderful thing to do! The earl must be a veryforward-thinking man.” Coll thought somewhat sourly that this woman, too, was probably enamored of the handsome earl. Mardoun was the sort a lady would swoon over—for that matter, women of all sorts tended to fall at the man’s feet. Violet went on, “How—I mean, when she married Mardoun, the land would have become his property again.”
    Coll nodded. “Aye. So Damon gave it to the Munros—to the trust that he set up, that is. Meg and I are the ones who direct the trust.”
    â€œThen it is to you that I must make my appeal.”
    Coll looked at her a little warily. “I suppose it is.”
    â€œThis could be a very important site. The arrangement is unusual, and in a remote area such as this, it may have been little disturbed over the centuries.”
    â€œBut it is sacred ground. It doesn’t seem right.”
    â€œKnowledge is sacred.” Violet looked at him intently. “We could learn so much from an untouched site.”
    â€œBut surely the dead deserve some respect.”
    â€œI don’t mean any disrespect.”
    â€œOpening up their graves? Poking about among their bones and such?” He frowned. “How could it not be?”
    â€œI would exercise the utmost care, I assure you.”
    â€œI do not doubt that. Still . . .”
    â€œI shall not give up,” she warned him.
    He smiled ruefully. “I am sure of that.” He shrugged. “I’ll write Meg and ask her opinion. ’Tis the Munro women who are the keepers of the old ones.”
    â€œThe ‘old ones’? Who are they?”
    â€œIt’s just the name some give to the stones—and to the ones who built them as well.”
    Violet fell silent. Coll studied her. She was clearly lost inthought; he could almost see the ideas chasing one another across her face. He would like to draw her—a study in charcoal, with her looking into the distance, the breeze catching a strand of hair and tossing it across her face, as it had this morning. He remembered how he had wanted to reach out and move the stray curl back, his fingertips gliding across the smooth skin of her cheek.
    He turned away abruptly. “Well, I must not keep you from finding a book to read. There’s enough here, whatever subject interests you.” He gestured vaguely toward the multitude of shelves and went back to his seat at the table.
    â€œWhat is that you are reading?” Violet nodded toward the book open before him. “It looks quite old.” She craned her head. “Is it handwritten?”
    â€œAye. It’s not one of Duncally’s books. ’Tis Meg’s. It was our grandmother’s journal.”
    â€œReally?” He supposed he should not have been surprised that Violet’s