I wish I could give you more, but I know you have the strength and talent and courage to achieve what your heart craves. Be happy, my dear girl.
Duncan Ramsay, your Old Laird
By the time she finished reading, there were tears in her eyes. Duncan had never been so openly affectionate, and his farewell tore at her heart.
She closed her eyes while she composed herself. When she opened them again, she saw that Ramsay was carefully folding up his letter, his expression tight. Letters from the dead were bound to have an impact.
The old order had ended. The new was just beginning.
* * *
Ramsay rose and tucked his letter inside his coat. “I’ll be heading for home. I could use the fresh air and exercise of walking there. Signy, will you join me, or would you prefer to ride in a cart? You must be exhausted.”
She also stood. “No more than you. I can also use the fresh air. Good night, Mr. Maclean.” She smiled. “I want to spend the night in my newly acquired home.”
After their farewells, Ramsay escorted Signy outside and away from the town. Clanwick wasn’t very large, so it didn’t take long to reach the cliff path that led to Skellig House, and beyond that to Sea Cottage. The moon was almost full, and the cool light illuminated the path clearly. The sea was to their right, and the moon touched the foaming waves below with silver.
As the lights of town faded behind them, Ramsay drew in a deep lungful of air and felt himself begin to relax. “I’m so glad that’s over. Given a choice, I prefer to lurk quietly in the background rather than be the center of attention. I presume that now I’ll be dealing with people a few at a time rather than in crowds.”
“Most of the time that will be true,” Signy agreed. “But there will always be gatherings and celebrations where you’ll be a central figure. Though you might not like being onstage, you managed everything well. That really was a first-rate commemoration of your grandfather. You honored his virtues while not ignoring his gruff, stubborn side. It’s particularly impressive considering you hadn’t seen him in so many years.”
Even when Ramsay was thousands of miles away, Duncan had been a dominant figure in his life. “I suppose I’ve been mentally writing that eulogy for most of my life. Now it’s time to settle into a more normal routine, whatever that will turn out to be.”
“What did your letter say?” she asked quietly.
He didn’t want to quote those brief lines, so he said only, “He apologized for leaving what would be a difficult job but said he knew I was up for it. I found that a welcome vote of confidence. What about your letter?”
“He said he was glad I was in his life,” she said tersely, as reluctant to say more as Ramsay had been. He understood; words from another’s heart were meant to be cherished privately.
“You’ll have your hands full, my young laird,” Signy said. “But you didn’t seem to be too upset about the estate’s financial problems.”
“Things may be tight for a while, but it sounds like the worst of Thorsay’s problems are over. As I mentioned to Maclean, I have enough money to ease the transition while we find ways to make the islands more prosperous.”
“Your grandfather said several times that you’d done well for yourself. Have you come back from your travels rich as a nabob?”
He laughed. “Hardly that. I’ve earned a fair amount of money working for the government, but it’s not cheap to outfit expeditions to search for lost ruins. I have a modest fortune that would enable me to live as a comfortable country gentleman under other circumstances. That’s not enough to fix everything that needs fixing in Thorsay, but it will give me a good start. Where did Duncan keep his locked box of financial records? You said you know where it is, and where the key is.”
“The box is in his office, the small room at the back of the house,” she replied. “One wall is taken up with bookcases. The record box is on the bottom shelf all the way to the left end. The key is in an antique pot you sent him that sits on the desk. The pot is Egyptian, I think.”
He nodded in recognition. “I bought it in Cairo but it came from farther south, the kingdom of Nubia. Lovely workmanship and very, very old.”
“A suitable repository for mysterious keys,” she murmured.
Ramsay chuckled. “I’m sure the maker of the pot never imagined his work ending up here in the far north so many years later. Thank you, I’ll look at the records tomorrow. While we’re talking about money, where do you think it would best be invested to improve the islands’ economy?”
“I’ve been considering that. Better breeding stock for the cattle and sheep would be good,” she said thoughtfully. “The storms and livestock diseases reduced the herds badly, and some of the best bulls and rams were lost.”
“That makes sense,” he agreed. “Rebuilding the herds will take time, so it’s best that we get started. I’ve also been thinking that the roads could use improvement. Most of them now are very poor. Better transportation would have a number of benefits.”
“Yes, and road work is a good project for the quiet months after the harvest,” Signy said. “That can be a hungry time for some families if there is no other work.”
The path crested one of the higher hills between the town and Skellig House. Ramsay halted on the top of the hill, the wind tugging at his hair and garments and the sounds of the sea filling his senses. “I was never really conscious of what it meant to be an islander when I was a boy,” he said softly. “The sea was always there in all its moods, offering both bounty and hazard. Now that I’ve lived in other places, I’m much more aware of how the sea defines the islands and all of us islanders.”
Signy moved beside him, tightening her woven shawl against the wind as she gazed at the waves swirling in below them. “I’ve never lived inland, and I’m sure I’d not be happy out of sight and sound of the sea. We’re islanders in our bones, Kai.”
He turned and resumed walking along the path. “In the next couple of days, I should start my travels around the islands. Are you game to be my guide? And if so, where should we begin?”
“Is there a particular place you’d like to start?”
