“I don’t know,” he said. “Two thousand years old? Four thousand? We know nothing about the builders.” He circled a pair of sheep that were placidly cropping the grass short. “There’s no shortage of mysteries in our northern islands.”
“Perhaps you should do an inventory of all the ancient structures in Thorsay,” she suggested. “It will keep you from becoming too restless as you yearn for Phoenician ruins. Stone circles and monoliths and brochs and ruined forts, and no one knows how many there are.”
He caught his breath, then turned to her. “That’s a brilliant idea. I can do an overview survey as I travel around meeting people.” He felt a stirring of excitement at the prospect. As a boy he’d been fascinated by these ancient mysteries. Now it was time to learn more about them.
“Start with a map of Thorsay upon which you can mark the locations of ancient structures,” she said. “There are interesting sites scattered over all the islands.”
“You’re right. I hope you’ll help me.”
“It could be an intriguing project.” She turned away from the Ring and headed toward Skellig House, which was visible at the edge of the sea. “I need to get back.”
“So do I.” He fell into step with her. “I should make a courtesy call on Cousin Roald soon, since I assume he’s the heir after me.” He’d never liked Roald, who was a dozen years older than Ramsay. His father’s cousin and something of a bully. Maybe he’d improved in recent years, but Ramsay doubted it. “Will he be disappointed that I’ve returned?”
Signy snorted. “I doubt he wants to be laird. Having to look after lesser people would interfere with making money. He owns the largest kelp-burning works in Thorsay and has made a fortune. Now he has a grand house in Clanwick and attends all the fashionable balls and entertainments.”
Kelp burning had been an important industry on Thorsay for many years and employed both adults and children. The burned kelp produced soda ash, a necessary ingredient in soap and glass. It was a rather profitable business. Even so, his brows arched. “Clanwick has fashionable entertainments?”
“The last two years have been difficult, but overall the town has become more prosperous. It’s a convenient provisioning port for ships heading to Canada, especially those of the Hudson’s Bay Company, so Clanwick is grander than you remember.”
“Much has changed since I left,” he observed.
She shrugged. “Much has changed, more has not.”
The land and sea and ancient monuments hadn’t changed. The people were another matter. He glanced at her elegant, determined profile, wondering how long it would take for her to warm up to him, and if it was even possible. If they worked together regularly, surely she’d become more relaxed with him in time.
His gaze moved back to Skellig House. “Has Odin appointed himself my grandfather’s guardian? He was not welcoming.”
Signy smiled. “That cat has had the run of the property for years and was most often found in the stables or the kitchen. Since the laird became bedridden, Odin spends most of his time in the library. Your grandfather enjoys his company.”
“He has cats and whisky to see himself out.” Ramsay’s voice because serious. “How long do you think he has?”
She glanced at him, her eyes sad. “Not long. He’s been failing for some time. I think he was waiting for you to come home. Now that you’re here, he may just let go. It could be days or maybe only hours. Soon.”
Half seriously, he said, “When he’s gone, should we launch his body in a burning boat to give him a Viking funeral?”
“He’d probably like that,” she said, amused. “But I doubt the local kirk would. He’ll receive a grand funeral in St. Magnus Cathedral with half the population of Thorsay in attendance.”
“He’d like that also,” Ramsay agreed. “And it will surely be followed by a grand funeral feast for family and mourners.”
“That’s underway,” Signy said. “You remember Mrs. Donovan, the housekeeper? She’s made plans and has already chosen the ox that will be roasted.”
“I’m glad my grandfather has always insisted on having capable people around him. That simplifies my life. Otherwise, I’m not sure I’d be able to live up to his standards.” He hadn’t felt that he could when he was a boy.
“The laird had no doubts about you. He was proud of your accomplishments. He said that times were changing and it was good that the next laird would have broad experience of the world.” Signy gave him a sidelong glance. “He wasn’t wrong. It may be difficult for you to settle down here again, but you’ll bring Thorsay new possibilities.”
“I hope you’re right. The settling down part will take time.” Ramsay’s gaze moved across the hills to a familiar sight, and he remembered digging out blocks of turf, drying them in stacks, and eventually carrying off the fuel in two-wheeled carts. “The harvesting of peat doesn’t seem to have changed.”
“It’s backbreaking work, but peat has provided warmth for islanders for centuries. Though if you can come up with a fuel that’s less work, I’m sure no one would object,” she said.
“I can’t think of a more affordable or available fuel source. The peat may turn the local water brown, but there’s nothing like the scent of a peat fire.”
“To an islander, it’s the scent of home.” She drew a deep breath. “But what I sense on the wind now is a storm coming. A normal storm, not a huge one.”
“You always were good at predicting the weather,” he observed, remembering. “Even though it will be a normal storm, I’m glad I won’t be on the sea tonight.”
They’d reached the front steps of Skellig House. Ramsay noted that railings had been added to both sides, probably to help the laird up and down. A good idea for anyone, really.
He hadn’t been very observant when he’d arrived at Skellig House earlier, but as he stepped inside the entry hall this time, he noticed that the wall to the right had a collection of pictures that were new to him.
