Kissing the Countess by Susan King

Author:Susan King [King, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780451210623
Google: hXo-8L824SEC
Goodreads: 2215109
Publisher: Signet
Published: 2002-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Glad to be outside in sun and wind, Evan was glad to have such a physically demanding chore that morning. He worked alone on the broken bridge, fetching and carrying rocks from among those scattered on the hillside. Wedging each one between the broken stones that edged the gash in the bridge, he did his best to shore up the loose stones.

Straddling the breach, he secured several rocks on both sides. Then he walked to a wooded area to gather stout sticks, breaking them to appropriate lengths, fitting them across the gap space. This would add some necessary countertension to the sagging haunches of the bridge and help, if only a little.

After breakfast he had sent word to Finlay MacConn, but young Davey MacGillechallum had returned with the answer that Mr. MacConn was in Inverness. He would have asked Catriona when her brother might return or why he was there, but she had left to meet Morag MacLeod, saying they meant to gather more knitting from a croft wife in the hills.

"Shall we meet by the fairy bridge before teatime?" she had asked, and Evan agreed, with a warning not to take the bridge. She had smiled and slipped out the door.

Evan had sent Davey after her with the pony cart, asking him to take the two women around the long way and make sure they were safe and had an escort. Then he had set out for the bridge himself.

Now, satisfied that his makeshift repair would hold, he brushed off his hands and clothing, covered in dust. Thirsty, he wiping his forearm over his brow, he walked down the steep embankment to drink from the cold, clear stream at the bottom of the gorge, then scrambled back up again.

In the distance, he could see two men walking along the road from the direction of Kilmallie, the smaller estate that bordered Kildonan along the eastern border.

"Hey there! Kildonan!" Arthur Fitzgibbon waved, and Evan recognized that the other gentleman with Fitz was Kenneth Grant. Waving in reply, he waited as they approached. They both carried long-barreled hunting guns and wore tweed suits and caps, Arthur in the knickers and boots that he preferred, Grant in darker coat and trousers.

"Kildonan! Mr. Grant invited me out for a bit of shooting on his lands. Very fine," Arthur said, brandishing his gun. "He lent me his rifle. I haven't seen many of this sort, a fine weapon with a true aim. We had an excellent morning."

"Did you?" Evan asked, shoving his hands into his pockets, still without his jacket, which lay draped over the parapet of the bridge. "What did you bag?" He saw they carried nothing beyond a gun and a canvas knapsack apiece.

"Three brace of grouse on the moorland between here and Kilmallie, five partridges on the crofter's hill to the south, and a brace of wild ducks along the reeds by the river. We sent them back to Kilmallie and Kildonan with Grant's gillie."

"Good! Mrs. Baird and Cook will be pleased to have something fresh to prepare for dinner," Evan said.

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