She chuckled. “You must be very hungry to be that impressed with simple shortbread.”
“I am. All I’ve eaten today was a piece of bread and butter on the boat, and that was hours ago.” He finished the first piece of shortbread and took another, then several slices of the bread and cheese that appeared on the table. “It’s been a long, strange day.”
“And it’s not over yet.” Signy set a pair of sketchbooks on the table between them before she sat down. “Since we were talking about an inventory of the ancient sites of Thorsay, these might interest you.”
He flipped the sketchbook open and found a pencil drawing of an old broch tower, the circular shape half collapsed. Flowers bloomed around the base, and behind was the sea. The drawing was made with swift, sure strokes, not very detailed but vividly evocative. “This is the broch on the northernmost tip of Stromburgh, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “I don’t know how many brochs there are altogether, but this is one of the better-preserved towers.”
He thumbed through, seeing sketches of ancient fishermen’s huts and nousts, the scooped-out trenches along beaches that were used to shelter fishing boats in destructive weather. Castle ruins, the remains of old farmsteads, a small click mill. “You’re a very talented artist. Perhaps we should work together to produce a book of Thorsay’s ancient places. I could do the research and writing, and you could do the illustrations.”
Her brows arched. “Who would be interested in old Thorsay stones?”
“Not a lot of people,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth doing. If you’re introducing me around the islands, it will be a good time to map all the ruins and for you to do sketches.”
Her gaze dropped. “I don’t know that I’d have enough time for that.”
“It will be a long-term project,” he said peaceably. He turned the page and found what looked like a brand-new broch. “This is a Martello tower, isn’t it? Built to repel Napoleon’s troops if they tried to invade?”
“Yes, it’s only five years old. Clanwick needed to be protected since the harbor is important to British shipping, but luckily it was never used.”
“One can see how this tower is a direct descendant of the old brochs. They’re all round coastal fortresses, which makes them ideal for resisting attacks.”
“Basic building of defenses doesn’t change.” Signy consumed a piece of shortbread in two bites. “I wonder how many of the old brochs were put to use in the old days? And if they were attacked, which side our ancestors were on?”
“Probably both. There has always been a lot of traffic between Norway and the northern isles.” Ramsay finished his tea and rose from the table. “Time I was getting back. Will you come over to Skellig House this evening?”
“Tomorrow is soon enough for your next lesson in becoming a laird.”
He smiled. “I look forward to it.”
As he set off along the seaside path, he was surprised at just how much he looked forward to spending time with her.
* * *
After Ramsay left, Signy poured the last of the tea into her cup and then sipped it as she gazed at the waves rolling in. She was going to be seeing a lot of Ramsay, and she needed to sort out how she felt about him. He was so confident and knowledgeable about the world. Very annoying.
But she’d been deeply grateful for his understanding when she fell apart after talking about Gisela’s death. He’d been surprisingly sympathetic and even vulnerable.
The years had almost made him too blasted attractive for a woman’s peace of mind. Now that he was back, he’d be surrounded by young women interested in applying for the position of wife, and Signy hated crowds.
She pulled her sketchbook over and took a pencil from the china cup that held pencils, pens, and a pen knife. With a few quick strokes, she drew his face but frowned at the result. His features were too regular to be distinctive, and it was hard to capture the intelligence and humor in his eyes.
She ripped out the page and tossed it on the peat fire. It disappeared in a swift burst of flames. Apparently she’d have decades ahead to draw him again and again. She wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or pleased.
Chapter 6
When Ramsay entered Skellig House, he was met by Mrs. Donovan, the housekeeper. “There you are, lad. We’re having a welcome home dinner party for you tonight, and I was afraid we’d have to start without you.”
He blinked, realizing he should have expected this. “Not too large a one, I hope? It’s been a long day.”
“Just members of the household and those who live nearby,” she assured him. “But people want to see that you’re finally home. Make sure you’re really you.”
“Will there be bagpipes?”
“No, we don’t want to disturb the laird,” she said regretfully. “The dinner won’t run too late either. But we couldn’t let your return go unnoticed.”
“I’m glad it won’t be late. I want to sit with my grandfather. When will dinner begin? I haven’t even been to my room yet.”
