Waking the Princess by Susan King Page B

and surfaced. I've been overseeing the roads and byways in the western regions for about two years. This part is level, but it climbs once we near the hills. Steep gradients are impossible to avoid in the Highlands."
    "Tam Durie showed us just how steep they can be," Christina said, and Aedan chuckled.
    Soon he pointed to a farmhouse nestled at the foot of a high, bleak hill. "That's the home farm, which produces much of what we need at Dundrennan House. Parian MacDonald, who tends the farm, is also our factor, and he helps see to the welfare of our tenants. His brother Hector is my foreman on the road crew, and Hector's daughter and grandmother do the laundering for us at the house. Our tenants are fewer now, but there is still work for the factor, and we will find work for every tenant who needs it. My father always insisted on that, despite the troubles of the last seventy-five years or so, and I am determined to honor it."
    "Were homes cleared here for sheep grazing, as they were all across the Highlands?" John asked.
    Aedan shook his head. "Not here. My father and grandfather would not tolerate it. We were forced to sell off some of our land, though, and those homes were cleared to make room for sheep and hunting preserves. We could not stop it once our rights were sold. Some of the people left homes they had occupied for generations, and some were evicted by the new tenants."
    "Did many of the men on the estate go to war?" John said.
    "Aye, many of them joined the Highland regiments to gain some income for their families. A good number were killed in the Crimea and India, and many have gone on to other posts in India. Some of their widows and families left to live with kinfolk, and some have left Scotland entirely. Some are still here, though."
    Christina sighed. "The sweeping away of the old ways."
    "Scotland has seen war and strife throughout her history, but never change on such a scale as the last few generations. We are not at war, yet the enemy is at our gates."
    "What enemy?" John asked.
    "Poverty, sir, and greed. Ignorance and prejudice. Even tourism, greedy to see romantic settings, but disrespectful of our customs."
    "There are groups who work to preserve Gaelic culture, sir," Christina said. "I belong to a few of them myself. Your father revived Scottish heritage in his poetry, like Scott and Burns and some others."
    "All worthy efforts. I agree that our culture must be protected, but Scotland needs to enter the modern age in order to survive. The Highland culture, and the Highland people, would benefit from a little modernization. I support improvements and growth, rather than destruction, and the blending of new methods with the old. At the same time, I admire Highland history and culture and wish to do my part to protect and preserve them."
    "What of the roads you build all over Scotland? Do you see that as protecting your country or interfering with it?"
    "Inroads, Mrs. Blackburn. New pathways into the heart of an ailing nation. Roads and railways will bring new lifeblood into Scotland and help save it."
    "Then you are as much a crusader for Scotland as I am," she said, glancing at him.
    "I do what I can," he said. "And Dundrennan, a small part of Scotland entirely in my hands, is of chief concern to me."
    The gig sped along the road, and John cantered ahead. The hills thrust dark shoulders into a blue sky, their rounded slopes tough with stones and grasses. Heather spread gorgeous plummy color over the inclines. Christina looked around, admiring.
    The finished road ended just ahead, and a raw earthen track curved up a hill, its path marked by wooden stakes. "The black powder was discharged up there," Aedan said, pointing.
    Peering through her veil, Christina saw a dark gash along the right side of the hill. It seemed unremarkable, just as Aedan MacBride had said.
    Clearly he thought the museum's investigation was little more than an inconvenience. But Christina was intrigued about whatever lay inside