He eased his arms again. His father was frowning at his map. He’d painstakingly drawn the dimensions of the three mile long freshwater loch with a grid over the top, and it was as accurate as he could make it. Every time they searched one of the little squares on the grid, Archie would put a cross through it.
Observing him from the boat, Rory thought his father looked gaunt, and his skin had a yellowish tinge. There had been a time when father and son had dived together but Archie was too feeble now. They had not spoken of what was wrong—he sensed his father didn’t want to talk about it. Not yet. The thought of losing his beloved parent was keeping Rory silent too, but he could not wait forever.
“Are you sure you’re marking off the right squares?” he called out, trying to lighten his own thoughts. “Is your map upside down?”
“I know what I’m doing, lad,” his father’s reply was as sharp as ever. “You have the easy job. All you have to do is dive where I tell you to.”
With a shiver Rory reached for his towel, hoping this morning’s search wouldn’t go on for too much longer. He’d planned to speak to a local stone mason about some repairs to the west tower. Best to at least get them started and the tower shored up, before it fell down into the loch. He would use the money given to him in the marriage settlement but he had a feeling that would only go so far. Would Olivia be willing to help? Only she could persuade her father to release some of her fortune into his hands.
The truth was he had no idea what his wife would say or do. She had been appalled when they arrived yesterday. She’d tried to hide it but he could see by the pallor of her face and the way she bit her lower lip how much the sight of Invermar had upset her. Rory was used to the state of his home, but standing beside Olivia he had seen it through her eyes. How could he expect her to love Invermar as he did? How could he expect her to stay?
“Over there!”
His father’s impatient voice broke through his musings, and Rory picked up the oars once more. Archie was gesturing to the left and he rowed in that general direction. “Yes, yes, that’s it, lad!” was the response. “Last one for the day.”
It was lucky their loch was not too deep, he thought wryly, as he flung off the towel. Five to seven feet in most places, and less in others. It wasn’t like some of the other lochs in Scotland, which were rumoured to be bottomless. Of course there were some spots where he had struggled to find the bottom, but the rest were well within his capabilities. He stood up, preparing to dive, and then his eye was caught by the flutter of a woman’s skirt and the sun shining on fair hair.
Olivia was watching him from the shore.
He hadn’t spoken to her since yesterday when they’d arrived at Invermar. He’d thought it best to let her settle in, and he didn’t want to say anything that might send her fleeing south again.
How long would she wait before she asked to go back to Mockingbird Square or, more likely, her parents’ home? He’d thought he could make her stay but he was not a brute. If she really wanted to go then he must allow it.
Perhaps his father was right, perhaps despite all the odds, if he found the sword, then his luck would change? Assuming the sword even existed, Rory thought, as he took a step to the edge of the boat and dived gracefully into the water.
By the time he had surfaced again, Olivia was gone. He caught his breath, rubbing the towel over his face and hair, and then rowed wearily to shore. His father patted his shoulder, and then tied up the boat, declaring that he was certain they were getting close.
“You always say that,” Rory reminded him. “You’ve said it ever since I was a boy.”
“I say it because I know it to be true,” his father retorted.
“Do you?”
If he expected Archie to admit he was an idealistic romantic then he was mistaken. His father gave him a frown. “You are very down in the dumps today, Rory. I thought with Olivia here you’d be grinning from ear to ear.”
“Olivia isn’t very happy with me, as you well know. She thinks I married her for her money.”
“Well, so you did! That was your plan, lad, you told me so. I remember it distinctly.”
“It might have been my original plan but—”
“But then you fell in love with her,” his father finished for him, and hid a smile. “If you truly love her, and she you, then you’ll find your way clear of this mess. Wait and see.”
Olivia is used to being served hot chocolate every morning in bed, and then having her maid help her dress in the latest fashions. Her morning post is full of invitations and gentlemen stop in the street to admire her smile. Do you really believe she’ll stay at Invermar?
But he didn’t say any of it. He knew the odds of he and his wife living happily ever after were bleak. Unlike his father Rory was no believer in fairy tales.
The stone mason was waiting by the time Rory had dressed, and they tramped up the twisting staircase to inspect the west tower. The mason tapped the inner walls with a metal hammer, poked at the crumbling stone, and said very little.
“What do you think?” Rory asked at last with barely restrained impatience. “Don’t spare me, man.”
“It’ll cost you an arm and a leg to put it right, Master Rory. I’m not sure it can be put right. Better and safer to knock it down and start again.”
It was Rory’s turn to fall silent. Knocking it down seemed so final—he had hoped to save at least some of it.
“You wouldn’t want it to collapse and injure anyone,” the man went on, with a sly glance. “Your bonnie new wife, I’m thinking of.”
Rory frowned. “Leave my bonnie new wife out of this.”