Page 66 of Wild Highland Rose
"I'll feel better when I know that he's off Crannag Mhór land altogether." Or, better yet, dead and buried. Marjory frowned at the violent turn of her thoughts.
"Is he no' gone then?" Grania asked, a puzzled expression on her expressive face.
"Oh, he's gone, right enough, but it'll take him at least another day to reach the entrance to the valley."
"Well, at least he's no longer here, in the tower." Grania covered Marjory's hand with hers. "So tell me a bit about yer adventure. I've not heard the whole of it."
Marjory smiled broadly at the older woman. It was hard not to, even if the gesture was wasted. She told Grania about the fishing expedition and the storm. She skimmed over Cameron's water exploits, hesitant to have to explain his sudden ability to swim, using instead, the story he'd concocted for Torcall.
"Heavens child, what a tale. I take it ye managed to find shelter fer the night?"
"Oh yes, Grania, they stayed in yer cottage, or what's left o' it. To hear Marjory tell it, they wouldn't have survived without it." Aimil snapped a silken strand and deftly threaded the needle with another.
"I dinna think I made it sound that dramatic, surely?" Marjory felt Grania's hand tighten slightly around hers.
"And how did ye find the cottage?" Grania's voice had lost some of its usual timbre.
"In much disrepair, I'm afraid. What damage the tree didna do, the wilds of the forest are finishing, but it served nicely for our purposes." Again, she felt herself growing hot. She had to learn to control these blushes. Thankfully, Grania couldn't see her, and with a quick glance, she ascertained that Aimil was still absorbed in her needlework.
"I'm delighted that it was still of some use." Grania shifted on the bench, freeing her hands from Marjory's.
"It was." She felt her blush deepening. She needed to change the subject before her body betrayed her feelings for Cameron. "Grania, did Bertrum have family in England?"
"I dinna remember. Why do ye ask?"
"Because we found the most amazing thing at your cottage."
"Amazing? I canna imagine there's anything left to call amazing."
"Well, there was."
Aimil looked up, her attention caught. "Well, dinna hold us in suspense. What was it ye found?"
"A pump." Marjory smiled triumphantly, her mouth stumbling only a little over the new word.
"A what?" Aimil looked confused.
"A pump. 'Tis the word Ewen used. " She'd started to call him Cameron, but changed her mind. "It made water flow from its mouth like magic."
Aimil snorted and turned back to her needlework. "Yer having us on."
"Nay, 'tis true. I saw it with my own eyes. Ewen says 'tis the newest thing. I thought maybe your husband had built it for you. They have them in England, you know, and I thought maybe Bertrum got the idea there."
"Oh yes, the pump. I'd forgotten all about it. Bertie did make it for me."
"Did he? I dinna recall him being good with his hands." Aimil raised an eyebrow.
First the first time in Marjory's memory, Grania looked flustered. "Well, perhaps, he bought it on one of his travels. I canna remember, it's been so long since Bertie was living. 'Tis no' as exciting as Marjory would have ye believe." She waved a hand in dismissal as Marjory opened her mouth to disagree. The pump had been nothing short of a miracle, but if Grania didn't wish to discuss it, she wouldn't press the matter.
"Ye didna say what happened to the curach," Grania interjected, obviously trying to change the subject.
Aimil cried out as she jabbed her finger with her needle.
Grania cocked her head at the sound. "Are you all right, Aimil?"
"Aye, fine. I only stuck myself a bit. No serious damage." She sucked at the end of her finger.
Marjory stood. "Perhaps I should go for some salve."
