Attention caught, he moved to the wall and studied the watercolor images. They were rather abstract landscapes and nature studies rendered in the blues and tans and grays of Thorsay. Images of waves rolling onto a beach, sunsets splashing color across wet sand, a lightly sketched and haunting view of sailing ships in Clanwick harbor. Silhouettes of a mother and child gathering shells were only small shapes in a larger seascape, yet there was tenderness in the way the figures turned to each other.
The pictures were framed in silvery weathered wood, and most drawings included images of seabirds arcing into the sky or swooping low over the sea. They were scarcely more than V shapes, yet so skillfully done that he could identify different species of seabird.
“These pictures are remarkable,” he said in a soft voice. “I wish I’d had one in Constantinople to remind me where I came from.”
“Thank you.”
“This is your work?” he asked, startled.
She shrugged. “It’s just a hobby, but the laird likes them. You’ll find them all over Skellig House since there isn’t much space to hang them in my cottage. If you wish, I can hang a couple in your bedroom.”
“I’d like that,” he said sincerely. “But this is more than a hobby. You’re a true artist. Have you considered having pictures engraved so you could sell prints?”
“Who would be interested?” she scoffed.
“Galleries in London,” he said promptly. “There’s a particular gallery that belongs to a friend of mine. The owner, Richard Maxwell, is the grandson of a Thorsayian and we went to school together. He exhibits and sells interesting original artwork and loves discovering new talent. I think he’d love your work.”
“You really think so?” She tried to sound casual, but in her eyes he saw the hope of a creative person yearning for appreciation of her art.
“I really do.” He barely managed a reply as he gazed at Signy with a shock of unexpected emotion. He had seen her strength and beauty, but now he also saw her vulnerability. She moved him in ways he hadn’t known since Gisela’s death. He wanted to know her complexities, her heart and soul. He wanted her to look at him with caring rather than cool reserve.
He took a deep, unsteady breath. Perhaps his grandfather was right that he should marry her.
Chapter 5
Ramsay focused a gaze on Signy so intense that she looked away. He seemed toseeher as no one else had, and it was unnerving. But also flattering that a worldly gentleman such as he genuinely liked her work.
Dismissing the subject, she said, “I’ll look in on the laird, then go home.”
“I’d assumed you lived in Skellig House, but I gather not?”
“I live in Sea Cottage. Remember it? It’s only a few minutes away. I wanted more privacy, so I asked the laird to let me live there.”
“I’ll walk you back after I look in on my grandfather.”
Her brows arched. “That’s hardly necessary.”
He disarmed her with a smile. “True, but I might as well start familiarizing myself with everything on the island. I’d like to see more of your work as well.”
“You can come if you like, but most of my pictures are here in Skellig House. I’ve been too busy lately to spend much time drawing.”
He nodded as they walked to the laird’s sickroom. When Signy opened the door partway, she saw Robby Burnes, the laird’s chief shepherd, sitting by the bed. Burnes saw her and got to his feet. “Time I was going, sir. I don’t want to tire you out so much that you can’t see anyone else.”
“If that’s my grandson lurking by the door, send him in,” a thin voice replied.
Burnes came out and greeted Ramsay with a pleased nod. “Good to see you, lad. You’ve grown.”
Ramsay smiled and offered his hand. “So have you.”
Burnes laughed and patted his rotund figure with the left hand while he used the right to return Ramsay’s clasp. “A wife who’s a good cook will do that. Now that you’re home, time you took a wife. Unless you found one in some foreign land?”
Ramsay glanced at Signy, and she gave him anI told you everyone would be interested in marrying you offlook. There was a flicker of amusement in his eyes before he turned his full attention to Burnes. “No foreign wives acquired. It takes a Scottish woman to handle a Scottish man.”
“Aye, that’s right.” With a nod to Signy, Burnes left.
She said quietly, “A number of the laird’s old friends have been stopping by to see him. To bid him farewell.”
“They’re also saying good-bye to a long era and way of life,” Ramsay said. “The old laird will soon be gone, they’ll be stuck with a near stranger of dubious character, and the world as a whole is changing. I’m sure there are Thorsayians who served in the Royal Navy or Army against Napoleon, and some have come back with new ideas.”
