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Harlow snorted but had the decency to cough into her napkin right after.
“Sometimes,” Rupert went on, “they’re portents of the future.”
Duncan nodded as though this were perfectly rational. “God bless those portents.”
He rested one arm behind my shoulders while Lewis described our last day. We would be in the bus for most of it, driving back to Edinburgh. He assured us that the views through the Trossachs would be spectacular, even passing through them at sixty kilometers per hour.
“We’ll stop for lunch and a short hill walk, but we’ll still have plenty to see on our return,” he said. “We’ll end the tour with a ceilidh in the city and send you off with happy memories of your time in Scotland.”
I glanced at Duncan.Memories. That’s all this would be, all anything between us could ever be. Nine days had passed too quickly, leaving me reeling from all I’d seen and done and aching for all that remained undone. A quick drive through the Trossachs didn’t seem like it would live up to climbing Ben Macdui or accidentally swimming in Loch Ness.
A morbid, premature sorrow settled deep in my chest, proving just how much I would miss Scotland. It had been an incredible adventure, but my real life waited for me back in Seattle.
Duncan gave me a quick side-hug, reminding me the trip wasn’t quite over yet. Just a few things left to do, but I had a feeling we’d saved the best for last.
* * *
Scotland had so many lakes, any road we traveled on was bound to skirt one eventually, and the winding road back into the heart of the country provided a prime view of several scenic lochs. We’d had no opportunity for pictures, and I tried to just enjoy the experience as we sped south through the Highlands.
Duncan and I had reached a silent agreement to throw out all concerns for personal space and sat with the sides of our legs pressed together, our shoulders bumping with each jostle in the road, his hand resting lightly on my leg. The ride back to Edinburgh seemed stuck on fast-forward when I wanted time to slow down so I could enjoy this closeness.
“What is that?” I squinted at a dark shape in the distance.
He leaned forward to peer out the window, pressing close against me. “That’s Eilean Donan castle.”
The shadowy shape grew sharper as we drew nearer, revealing a castle set on the edge of the lake. Unlike the flooded castle on Loch an Eilein, this one looked in perfect condition, or as nearly so as a thousand-year-old stone building could be. The walls weren’t crumbling down, at any rate.
“It’s been rebuilt,” Arnav said out of nowhere. “It’s not nearly so old as the other castles we’ve seen.”
I guess that explained its fresh out-of-the-box appearance. “How many castles are there in Scotland?”
He turned around in his seat to face me. “That depends on your definition. Some are ruins, some are nothing but the ground they stood on. Others, like this one, are relatively new. So to answer your question: a lot.”
“Thank you, Wikipedia.”
“I grew up here, you know. I had to write plenty of school reports on castles, and yes, I made free use of Wikipedia.”
Almost as soon as we passed the castle on the lake, green slopes rose up all around us. These mountains were neither gradual like the Cairngorms, nor spiky peaks like the Black Cuillins. They made me think of The Storr on Skye—rough, rugged, and rocky.
“Does everything in this country have to be so beautiful?”
Duncan smiled at my wide-eyed question. I knew I had that gobsmacked look on my face again, but I couldn’t get enough of the views.
“I could show you a few pubs in Glasgow you wouldn’t call beautiful,” Arnav called back.
“Pubs are man-made. They don’t count.”
“You’ve been mooning over the castles, and most would argue that those are man-made.” Spencer made his presence known with his usual brand of negative commentary.
“Those are historically beautiful. They count.”
“If you can get past all the people who have died in them.”
“You need to watch a different kind of TV show.”
“I’ve got a suggestion for you,” Carlos called. “Do you like extreme sports?”
I looked at Duncan. “Do I sound like an idiot, going on and on about how green and gorgeous everything is?”
