He put his hand on the doorknob, then paused. “Is there a particular artist you’d like to study with?”
“Sophie Macleod. She was a student of Turner and is wonderful with landscape and wild weather. Since she’s a woman, she’s not well known, but she does take students. I have a book that includes prints of her work. She’s brilliant.”
“I saw some of her work at my friend Richard’s gallery in London,” Ramsay said with interest. “She’s very talented and she’s interested in similar subjects as you. Since Thorsay has plenty of landscape and wild weather, she sounds like an ideal choice for a teacher. I hope she takes you on. She should, given your talent.” He opened the door and departed.
Signy was left with an odd mixture of emotions. Elation that leaving Thorsay and studying painting in London suddenly seemed possible, combined with anxiety about the unknown and a disturbing sense of loss. For years she’d dreamed of traveling away to different worlds, but she hadn’t realized the price she would pay to attain her dreams.
Chapter 17
Ramsay and Signy delivered a nervous Tilda to Hilda Barnes, Signy’s friend in Skillness, who welcomed the girl into the household warmly. She then invited Signy and the new laird to stay at her home while they were in Skillness.
Signy introduced him to merchants and ship owners and sailors, most of whom were willing to accept him, though the owner of a fishing smack who carried live lobsters to London challenged the new laird to a wrestling match. Ramsay won, barely.
Afterward, the lobster man stood Ramsay and the sailors who’d witnessed the challenge to drinks at the local tavern. They were all grand friends by the time Ramsay proceeded rather unsteadily back to the Barnes house. It was impossible to imagine a political situation more different from the insanely complex protocol of the Sublime Porte in Constantinople. Ramsay much preferred the informality and directness of Thorsay.
He visited one of the most successful linen works in Thorsay, which was run by a ferocious old lady with high standards and a sharp tongue who reminded him of his grandmother, Caitlin. She informed him that flax had been grown in Thorsay since Viking times, and her spinners and weavers produced the best linen in Britain. He wouldn’t have dared to argue with her.
They visited the Burnbray site of the old church with the truly ancient church below. Ramsay would have spent the next week studying the ruins and taking more notes if Signy hadn’t dragged him away. Fortunately her drawings of the site were as precise as they were elegant, so he’d study them more later.
Most nights they stayed in the homes of prominent local people, though they spent one night in a barn that turned out to be occupied by a rooster who was quite willing to get up and crow his heart out at the dreadfully early dawn of the long summer solstice day. Signy laughed and poked Ramsay in the ribs when he tried to roll over and bury his head in the hay so he could get more sleep.
His favorite part of this journey was discovering that he and Signy could regain much of their relaxed companionship, though they always kept physical distance between them. He hated knowing that she’d soon leave. Yet how could he ask her to stay when he’d been lucky enough to travel across the world?
He could only hope that she wouldn’t stay away for a long time. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted her to be with him always, both in his bed and at his breakfast table every morning. She made every day brighter, a valuable trait in this stormy northern land.
They took the ferry to the smaller island of Cronsay for an overnight trip so he could meet Jean Olson, one of Signy’s suggestions to become a magistrate. He’d met her briefly at his grandfather’s funeral. Further conversation impressed him so much with her intelligence and balanced thinking that he appointed her as Thorsay’s first female magistrate.
Before they left Cronsay, they paid a visit to a famous cliff that was home to thousands of seabirds. The colonies were raucous, smelly, and beautiful. He’d loved visiting such colonies as a boy and hadn’t realized how much he’d missed them. Best of all were the puffins. Their comic coloring and fearless acceptance of human visitors were a delight. Signy enjoyed them as much as he did.
It was all interesting and rewarding, but after a week his heart leaped when he saw the towering stones of the Ring of Skellig in the distance. Almost home.
The horses were equally keen, and they quickened their pace when Skellig House became visible. Loki whickered happily as Ramsay and Signy pulled up in front of the stables. The wide doors were open, and Jamie Donovan, the head groom, came out to greet them, a bridle he was cleaning in one hand. “Good to see you home! I hear you went swimming in the Atlantic, lad.”
Signy hadn’t been joking about how far and fast the story of his rescuing Tilda would travel. “So did Thor and Signy, or you’d be looking forward to training a different new laird, Mr. Donovan.”
“One new laird every thirty or forty years is easier.” Donovan grinned. “They’re difficult to train.”
Signy dismounted as Fiona emerged from the stables barking excitedly. “Oh, my darling dog!” She bent and ruffled Fiona’s head and neck with both hands. “You missed me?”
“She obviously did,” Ramsay said. “I wonder if Odin noticed I was gone?”
Signy straightened. “Even if he missed you, he won’t admit it. Cats prefer to keep their humans guessing. Come along, Fiona. We’re going back to Sea Cottage.”
Ramsay asked, “Do you want me to ride with you to your cottage so I can lead Loki back here?”
“No, I’ve spent enough time on horseback for now. I want to walk the last distance and feel the sea breezes. Mr. Donovan, will you take care of Loki? There’s a storm coming and I’m anxious to get home. I’ll collect my saddlebags tomorrow.”
Donovan took the reins. “Of course, Miss Signy.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at Ramsay. “You, laddie, have to groom your own horse!”
“Yes, sir,” Ramsay said obediently, but he frowned when he looked at the sky to the west. Dark clouds were piling up, and he thought he saw a flash of lightning. “The storm looks like it will be a big one.”
“Good. I love listening to the waves crashing when I’m tucked up in my snug little cottage.” Signy gave him a quick smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Come along, Fiona. We’re going home.”
“Sleep well tonight.” Ramsay led Thor into the stables behind Loki. Considering how much Signy loved her home, surely she wouldn’t stay away for too long?
* * *
Signy stopped in the Skellig House kitchen to get milk for her tea and left with a basket of provisions, including a piece of warm mutton pie, ginger cake and bread, and a nice meaty bone for Fiona.
