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Authors: Susan King
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fresh piece of foolscap and dipped a pen in ink.
To the Right Honorable Lady Strathlin
Madam,
I am dismayed that your solicitors have not better informed you. Even as I write this, I am installed in comfortable quarters on the Isle of Caransay, with Sgeir Caran in view through my window. There was a most spectacular sunset this evening, and the northern lights graced the sky last night. The weather is of course glorious.
The wind howled strong enough to rattle the door, and rain gusted against the shutters. Dougal eased his back against the stiff wooden chair and squinted in the oily lamplight.
I appreciate your concern regarding the wildlife on the rock. Let me assure you that it is not our intention to disturb Nature, or to significantly alter the appearance of the island.
I have not yet seen any golden eagles, madam. When I do I will give them your best regards.
Smiling to himself, he signed the note, sealed the envelope, and dropped it in the mail pouch to give to Norrie MacNeill for posting at Tobermory the next day.
Chapter 5
"Madam," the housekeeper said, opening the door to the drawing room, "is something required?"
"Ah, Mrs. Hendry," Meg said, looking up from the writing table where she sat. A minute earlier, she had tugged at the bell pull, knowing the housekeeper liked her to do that. Although Meg preferred less formality, Mrs. Hendry, who lived on the Isle of Mull when Meg was not at Clachan Mor, insisted on maintaining a household befitting a baroness. The woman seemed to enjoy that, so Meg indulged her.
"Please inform Mrs. Berry that I will shortly be ready to go down to the beach with her and Master Iain," Meg said. Mrs. Berry had enjoyed a few schoolroom duties with Iain whenever she and Meg visited Caransay.
"Very good, madam." Mrs. Hendry's pursed lips and angular face were softened only by her luxurious silver hair and lace cap. She closed the door, and Meg went back to her task.
She wrote a quick note to Mr. Charles Worth in Paris, thanking him for his offer to send an assistant to Edinburgh to fit her gown for the September soiree. Mr. Worth was eccentric and exacting, but his creations were so elegant and lovely that Meg had traveled to Paris a few times to be fitted for her wardrobe at his shop on the Rue de la Paix. Her companion Angela Shaw, who understood such matters, had advised it. The newest Worth gown promised to be exquisite as the others, judging from the sketches and fabric swatches he had sent.
The next note was from Guy Hamilton, who reported that the Northern Lighthouse Commission had notified the law firm of Hamilton and Shaw that Mr. Dougal Stewart did indeed have governmental authority to proceed with the lighthouse on Sgeir Caran. Stewart had the right to do the work. Guy assured Meg that they were still looking for a way to stop it, and he reminded her that the engineer was on Caransay and to avoid him.
Too late, she thought. The damage was done.
She answered Guy and sealed it, adding it to the envelopes for Norrie to post when next he ran the boat to Mull.
Then she penned a quick note to Sir Frederick Matheson, who had written of his desire to visit her at Caransay, since he would be on the neighboring island of Guga. My days here are peaceful and a bit dull, and you would not be entertained, she told him. She then glanced through the other letters.
Finding nothing from Dougal Stewart, she felt strangely disappointed. He had not replied to the latest letter the law firm had sent, to which she had added a personal note pleading for the welfare of the birds on the sea rock.
No doubt he was too busy building barracks and drilling holes in Sgeir Caran to reply. Through the open window, Meg could see an angle of the sea rock where she knew the men were working with their sledges and drills.
For a moment, she felt strongly tempted to sail out there, announce herself as the baroness, demand a halt to the construction—and tell Stewart the truth. But that was not so
To the Right Honorable Lady Strathlin
Madam,
I am dismayed that your solicitors have not better informed you. Even as I write this, I am installed in comfortable quarters on the Isle of Caransay, with Sgeir Caran in view through my window. There was a most spectacular sunset this evening, and the northern lights graced the sky last night. The weather is of course glorious.
The wind howled strong enough to rattle the door, and rain gusted against the shutters. Dougal eased his back against the stiff wooden chair and squinted in the oily lamplight.
I appreciate your concern regarding the wildlife on the rock. Let me assure you that it is not our intention to disturb Nature, or to significantly alter the appearance of the island.
I have not yet seen any golden eagles, madam. When I do I will give them your best regards.
Smiling to himself, he signed the note, sealed the envelope, and dropped it in the mail pouch to give to Norrie MacNeill for posting at Tobermory the next day.
Chapter 5
"Madam," the housekeeper said, opening the door to the drawing room, "is something required?"
"Ah, Mrs. Hendry," Meg said, looking up from the writing table where she sat. A minute earlier, she had tugged at the bell pull, knowing the housekeeper liked her to do that. Although Meg preferred less formality, Mrs. Hendry, who lived on the Isle of Mull when Meg was not at Clachan Mor, insisted on maintaining a household befitting a baroness. The woman seemed to enjoy that, so Meg indulged her.
"Please inform Mrs. Berry that I will shortly be ready to go down to the beach with her and Master Iain," Meg said. Mrs. Berry had enjoyed a few schoolroom duties with Iain whenever she and Meg visited Caransay.
"Very good, madam." Mrs. Hendry's pursed lips and angular face were softened only by her luxurious silver hair and lace cap. She closed the door, and Meg went back to her task.
She wrote a quick note to Mr. Charles Worth in Paris, thanking him for his offer to send an assistant to Edinburgh to fit her gown for the September soiree. Mr. Worth was eccentric and exacting, but his creations were so elegant and lovely that Meg had traveled to Paris a few times to be fitted for her wardrobe at his shop on the Rue de la Paix. Her companion Angela Shaw, who understood such matters, had advised it. The newest Worth gown promised to be exquisite as the others, judging from the sketches and fabric swatches he had sent.
The next note was from Guy Hamilton, who reported that the Northern Lighthouse Commission had notified the law firm of Hamilton and Shaw that Mr. Dougal Stewart did indeed have governmental authority to proceed with the lighthouse on Sgeir Caran. Stewart had the right to do the work. Guy assured Meg that they were still looking for a way to stop it, and he reminded her that the engineer was on Caransay and to avoid him.
Too late, she thought. The damage was done.
She answered Guy and sealed it, adding it to the envelopes for Norrie to post when next he ran the boat to Mull.
Then she penned a quick note to Sir Frederick Matheson, who had written of his desire to visit her at Caransay, since he would be on the neighboring island of Guga. My days here are peaceful and a bit dull, and you would not be entertained, she told him. She then glanced through the other letters.
Finding nothing from Dougal Stewart, she felt strangely disappointed. He had not replied to the latest letter the law firm had sent, to which she had added a personal note pleading for the welfare of the birds on the sea rock.
No doubt he was too busy building barracks and drilling holes in Sgeir Caran to reply. Through the open window, Meg could see an angle of the sea rock where she knew the men were working with their sledges and drills.
For a moment, she felt strongly tempted to sail out there, announce herself as the baroness, demand a halt to the construction—and tell Stewart the truth. But that was not so
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