Lachlan shook his hand in her direction. “But she—she’ll betray you.”
“I will not.” The selkie’s voice shook as it had that night on the beach, but in determination, not fear. “I’m on the Allied side. I told you I was.”
He met her gaze, as luminous as before but lit with defiance. “You told me several stories. I believe none of them.”
She blinked and glanced away.
“Sir,” Lachlan said to Yardley, and he struggled to keep his voice steady. “She cannae be trusted. She’s a selkie.”
“Ah yes, your mythological creature. An apt description.”
“Quite apt. At the first opportunity, she’ll sneak back to the Germans.”
Cilla gasped again. “I would never. Commander Yardley, how can you expect me to work with a man who hates me? A man who wants me to die?”
Yardley raised one corner of his mouth. “You, my dear, are in no position to negotiate.”
Then the commander directed the same look to Lachlan. “If she wants to stay alive, she won’t attempt to escape. To deter her, she is guarded by five MI5 officers—the principal and assistant lightkeepers, two Wrens, and me. And as I explained earlier, every message she sends will be approved by the proper authorities and monitored by us. It’s perfectly safe for you to work with her.”
“I will not.” Lachlan’s hands coiled at his sides. “I know who she is.”
“Which is why I selected you. You know who she is. The fewer people who know the identity of our double agents, the better. One of the reasons Cilla is alive is because only you andthe constable knew of her arrest, and both of you were immediately sworn to silence and can be trusted to keep your word. No other witnesses, no articles in the newspapers.”
“Oh my goodness.” Cilla covered her mouth, and she swayed.
Lachlan mashed his lips together. He didn’t want her to die—he really didn’t—but he refused to give her information to send to the enemy.
“As for you, Mackenzie, this is a direct order.” Yardley pushed away from the wall and stepped behind his desk. “For any naval officer, disobeying a direct order would have serious ramifications, but for you ...”
Lachlan held his breath as Yardley handed him a slip of paper. It read, “Plagiarism. Neil.”
His face tingled. With two black marks on his record, he would be severely punished for insubordination. “Your insurance policy.”
“Indeed.” Yardley wore a pleased smile. “Also, if you were to be so misguided as to disobey my order, I’d simply bring in another man to do the same work. That man might not be as protective of the base, might be more susceptible to the selkie’s charms.”
The paper crumpled in Lachlan’s grasp. “You’re offering me an impossible choice, sir.”
“I didn’t offer a choice. I issued an order. You have a duty to the crown.”
Duty? Lachlan squeezed his eyes shut. How could duty to the crown require him to violate his duty to the Admiralty?
“Well, Mackenzie,” Yardley said. “Will you obey your orders?”
He had no choice. None at all. Disobedience would mean demotion, dishonor, possibly even dismissal from service. How could he bear it? Especially in a time of war when his country needed every man?
Lachlan summoned his strength and shoved out the words. “Aye, sir.”
13
Dunnet Head
Saturday, June 14, 1941
Another dreary day. The lighthouse rose white against the dreary gray clouds in the dreary dampness as Cilla crossed the courtyard with the dreariest of companions.
“What are your plans on your day off, Imogene?” Gwen asked her fellow Wren.
“After the dance in Thurso tonight, I’m planning to sleep late and not do a solitary thing all day.”
