Chapter 22 #2
"Preposterous," Frederick said. He turned to the crowd gathering around them, made up of lighthouse commissioners and workmen, including Alan and Evan. "This is absurd!"
"It's true," Meg said. "I have known my husband for a long time. We met years ago on this very spot." Meg smiled at Dougal, her hand snugged in his arm.
"We could not tell anyone before this," Dougal said. "We kept it secret, for it was an awkward situation until we decided that we could carry on with our marriage."
"Congratulations, Lady Strathlin," Evan Mackenzie said.
"Lady Strathlin!" Alan Clarke exclaimed. Dougal leaned forward to murmur a fast explanation while Alan gaped at her.
Evan bowed to Meg, and she offered her hand. "Your husband is a fine man, and a lucky one, too," he said.
"Ah, thank you, Lord Glencarron," she said, as Evan kissed her gloved knuckles. "How very nice to see you again."
"And you, madam," he murmured. "Meg, I've known you from the first," he whispered, smiling, his lips close to her glove. "I saw you at a concert last year in Edinburgh, and I never forgot bonny Lady Strathlin."
"Thank you for keeping it to yourself," she said.
Evan released her hand. "Would I ruin my lady's holiday?
" He smiled and turned to Dougal. "Whenever your marriage took place, sir, I can honestly say I am delighted.
And the news of a secret marriage—and a secret child, am I to believe?
—will simply delight everyone who hears it.
I will certainly add my hearty approval of such a romantic circumstance to any who might care to hear my opinion. " He fixed Matheson with a stare.
"Thank you," Meg breathed. "Thank you."
Evan then glanced at the black-clad, somber men who stood nearby. Most of them nodded, smiled, or murmured congratulations.
"Lord Glencarron?" Frederick demanded. "The son and heir of the Earl of Kildonan?"
"The very one, sir," Evan said. "And you are—?" Matheson sputtered while Meg introduced him. "You seem to be disappointed in the lady's marriage, Sir Frederick, though I have no doubt you are the sort of gentleman who can be gracious about it."
Matheson mumbled something, then turned on his heel and stalked off, accompanied by a few of the commissioners.
Evan turned to Dougal. "Are you ready, sir?"
"Aye," Dougal said, and he turned to Meg. "We're going down to look at the flaw in the rock."
"Now?" she said. "But the waves are picking up."
"Just for a few minutes," Dougal said. "I need to see it for myself, so that we can best decide what to do about it, if anything.
I'll be right back, love," he said. "We can safely stay down for only ten minutes or so.
You know that. Iain might find our diving venture quite interesting.
If you'll send him along, we'll show him the gear as we're getting ready. "
She nodded and watched him walk away with Evan. Frowning, she felt a heavy sense of dread in the pit of her stomach.
All seemed resolved with Frederick, who could not threaten her again. His objections and arguments had been laid to rest.
There was nothing to worry about, she told herself.
As the wind whipped at her skirts, she looked out to sea and saw how choppy and opaque the waves had become. Far to the west, the sky was gray and heavy.
And then she knew the source of her unease.
* * *
Gauntleted hands careful on the curving slope of the rock, Dougal followed its contours. The water was neither as clear nor as still as he liked for the task, but he could see well enough to judge the dimension of the flaw.
Evan pointed to a particular area, and Dougal made his way there, his steps clumsy, a strange slow dance to the click and cadence of the air that rushed in and out of his helmet valves.
Nearby, the two platforms that had lowered the divers banged rhythmically against the side of the rocky underwater hill.
Higher on the incline, the single dressed stone that had tumbled into the sea was trussed with heavy ropes, ready to be craned back to the surface.
Seeing that, Dougal realized and appreciated how much work his crew had done in his absence.
Turning back to check the rock face, he soon saw the long black fissure. It split the rock from well above his head to the ocean floor, which varied in depth here, rolling like the hilly land above the water.
He walked up the slope with Evan, so that he stood not far beneath the surface. He could easily see the dark mass of the rock rising above the water, could see a boat or two on the surface while waves rushed overhead. The water was flowing much faster, he noticed. They could not stay down long.
From the canvas bag at his belt, he removed a measuring tape made of oiled cloth and stretched it over the crevice.
Floating there, tugged by the underwater currents even in his heavy weighted suit, he managed to estimate the length of the crack, moving hand over hand along the rock.
Reaching his arm deep into the fissure, he realized it was nearly as long as his arm.
A few small fish drifted out of the crevice, and he waved them away.
Making his way toward Evan, he caught his attention with gestures. Floating, sinking, Mackenzie measured the rock with Dougal, then signaled that they should go up to the surface.
Dougal returned a wave. He had seen what he needed to see down here. The split in the rock was large enough to be of some concern, particularly considering the weight of the gigantic tower that would be erected on its surface.
"Dougal." Alan Clarke's voice came through the speaking tube, surprisingly clear through yards of tubing.
"Aye," Dougal answered. "All is well down here. Up there?"
"A storm is brewing in the west. It will not reach us for an hour or more, Norrie says, but the wind and waves are strong. Come up. We are preparing to return to Caransay."
In the few minutes that he and Evan had been underwater, the water had grown murky as light faded above the surface, and the water currents had become strong and noticeably colder.
"Aye, Alan," he answered. "We'll come up."
Dougal pointed upward, and Mackenzie motioned that he understood. They walked slowly toward the wooden platforms suspended on ropes and hovering nearby. Dougal stepped onto the wooden deck, tugged three times on one of the ropes to indicate his readiness, and held on.
Within a minute or so, he felt the platform being drawn upward through the water. Holding on to the ropes, he glanced down to see Evan stepping onto the second platform.
A strong wave washed through like a train, smashing Dougal's platform against the broad side of the sea rock, knocking so hard that he was nearly thrown from the wooden planks.
He held on, bending his knees to keep his balance.
Reaching out with one foot, he shoved the platform away from the rock, where it had wedged and slowly felt it rise again.
The crew who craned his platform upward, and Evan's as well, halted the divers' ascent often as a precaution. Feeling the deck stop again, Dougal clung to the ropes and took slow breaths, giving his lungs time to adapt. With a lurch, the platform began to move again.
Another wave cracked the planking against the rock. This time the impact spun him outward, and his boots slid off the wooden deck.
Scrabbling up the rocky slope, breathing as carefully as he could, he snatched the rope of the platform again and tried to step onto the shifting deck. Seeing Evan ascend slowly past him, Dougal gave him a reassuring gesture to show that all was well.
Well enough, he told himself, if he could get back on the platform.
Propped precariously against the steep incline of the hillside, with a wealth of water sweeping around it, the deck bucked like a horse.
Moments later, Dougal managed to climb on and tug at the rope again, signaling to be lifted upward.
A horrible sound grew to a loud rumble, and the world shuddered all around him.
He glanced up to see the trussed granite block break loose from its moorings and begin to slide down the rocky slope.
Dougal swung his weight to yank the platform out of the way, but as the stone grazed past, it caught the platform ropes and ripped the deck away from him.
Four tons of granite scraped to a halt, bumping past Dougal's shoulder and knee in a near miss.
Silt and debris clouded the water to midnight darkness, and Dougal could feel the barrier of the immense stone just in front of him.
The monster had missed him by inches. Breathing a sigh of shaky relief, he pushed upward to float past it.
But he could not move. His lead boot was caught by its thick toe ridge just under the corner of the granite block.