By the time he’d carried Signy to the top of the stairs, he was panting. It was very fine to hold her in his arms, but he’d be glad when her ankle healed.
When he carried her into his grandfather’s suite, she said, “It still feels wrong to be in the laird’s rooms.”
“There’s no one he would rather have here than you,” he assured her as he laid her on the bed and deftly removed her left shoe.
“But these rooms should be yours. Don’t you want to live here?” she asked earnestly. “This suite has the best views and the most space of any in Skellig House.”
“I’ll live here someday perhaps, but not now.” He brushed a kiss on her forehead. “I’d really like to share these rooms with you.”
She blinked. “You’re so persistent.”
“I am. Most people find me very annoying.” He kissed her lips more seriously.
She responded, sliding her hand around his neck. “When you’re annoying me, I forget how much my ankle hurts,” she breathed.
“Pleased to be of service.” He kissed her again, sure he’d never tire of her lips when their kissing had so much intimacy and desire.
He had to wrench himself away. “Our discussion of who occupies this room will have to wait for another day since Mrs. Donovan will be here soon. For now, I think the sitting room will make a good studio for you until Sea Cottage is fit to live in again.” He shook out the quilt that was folded over on the foot of the bed and laid it over her. “Tell me what you want me to buy in Clanwick tomorrow, and where I can find it.”
“Olson’s Bookshop on the High Street. You must remember it. Greta Olson is in charge of art supplies. Do you have a piece of paper so I can make a list of what I’d like? There should be notepaper in the laird’s desk.”
“A good idea to give me a list.” Ramsay walked through the open archway that led to the adjoining room, which could be either sitting room or office. His grandfather’s massive desk was a family heirloom. He should look through it when he had the time.
He opened the top right door and found his grandfather’s notebook inside. That could be interesting, because Duncan was always jotting down ideas, notes to himself, and reminders of what needed to be done.
He paged through to the most recent entries. His grandfather’s handwriting had become shaky by then, but the words were clear.Ask Roald to extend the repayment time.
Ramsay stared at the simple sentence, knowing that whatever it referred to couldn’t be good. He’d need to talk to Roald as soon as possible to find out what was owed and when it was due.
“Did you find any paper?” Signy called. “He usually kept scrap paper in the top left drawer.”
He shoved thoughts of debts aside and looked into the left drawer. The piece of paper on top would do. “Fire away.”
“I’ll start with what should be in stock, and then add several other supplies she might have available if I’m lucky.” Signy began listing items by description and manufacturer because all drawing papers were not the same.
By the time Signy was finished, Mrs. Donovan had arrived with willow tea and honey cakes and what turned out to be her medical kit. As she opened it, she explained, “Generally I take care of the people in the household and Donovan does for the horses. But he’s better with bone setting, which is why he was the one who looked at her ankle.” She poured a cup of willow tea for Signy.
Ramsay nodded. “I’ll get a bite to eat and then go out with the work crew. Thanks for all your efforts.”
He went down to the kitchen, where a ham sandwich and hot tea revived him while he reviewed the storm reports that had come from different parts of the island. Mainland had been lucky. So far there didn’t seem to be any casualties beyond a couple of sheep who had managed to get themselves drowned. Signy and her cottage might have been the worst hit.
By the time he finished eating, his work crew was ready. Donovan himself came with the cart and a young stable hand as well as rags, brooms, buckets, and a large tarpaulin. Two housemaids joined them, and they set off to Sea Cottage.
All of the helpers loved Signy, and they set to work energetically after their exclamations of dismay. The housemaids dove into the kitchen and found that the water pipe and stopcock above the counter still worked, so they were able to rinse off all the kitchen china and utensils before packing them carefully in baskets.
Ramsay and Donovan collected the rest of Signy’s sodden clothing from the bedroom as well as her modest personal possessions. There were several books that might never recover, but Ramsay packed them up anyhow.
Then he and Donovan joined with the stable hand, who was clearing the front room and the other floors. Broken furniture was stacked outside. Some might be fixable. The loom was mercifully undamaged.
In a corner of the front room, one of the maids found a wet but otherwise intact piece of canvas that was painted with the images of Gisela, Signy, and their mother. She took it to Ramsay. “Miss Signy will want this back, I’m thinking.”
“You’re right.” Ramsay took the picture and carefully flattened it into a coat pocket. “I’ll tell her you found it.” It was a good omen for Signy’s future, he thought.
Ramsay and Donovan discussed the repairs needed. Then the large tarpaulin was fastened over the broken window and open areas of the front room, and none too soon. By the time they left, a misty rain was falling.
As the group headed back, Ramsay said, “Many thanks to you all. Signy will be very grateful.”
The smaller housemaid piped up, “I’m that pleased to help, sir. Miss Signy has done so much for me and my family.”
