What Thorfinn wasn’t sure of was the decision that Rose would make for her future.
He turned, and Rose mirrored his gesture. Instead of regarding the standing stone, they now stared at the sea beyond.
Lightly, he asked the question that was anything but casual to him. “Now that you’ve successfully solved the task my brother entrusted to you, unraveled spy rings here in Orkney and in London itself, and assured the continued peace, what shall you do next, Rose Van Etten?”
What shall you do next?The question swept through Rose as she stared out into the turquoise waters. Despite the northern latitude, the seas around Orkney often had a tropical appearance. Today, they were the deep, vibrant color of the harbor in Key West or the shoals of Cuba. At times they made her think of the Mediterranean too—of Greece, Italy, and the French Riviera.
The world—like her—was coming back to life. Rose could travel it again, endless ocean voyages and cross-country trips. There would be rich foods, new people, old friends, fast cars, even quicker speedboats ... and the emptiness she could never fill.
Except she had.
Here.
In Orkney.
A wide-open, windswept place that somehow offered everything she needed.
Still holding Thorfinn’s hand, Rose turned their bodies away from the sea until they were looking down the slopes of Hamarray to Frest. Here she could see the changes that she and Thorfinn were making. David Craigie, with loans from her, was expanding production, and a new millstone was being shipped from France. Folks on Frest were already talking about having another ceilidh when the peace treaty wasfinally signed. The broadsheets in Edinburgh, London, Paris, and New York had declared the auto race a success, and Rose had more than one inquiry about whether there would be future events on the island. Departing guests had asked when Muckle Skaill would officially open as a retreat and accept reservations.
Rose had sheep dipping to help with soon. And the harvest. And the peat wasn’t properly dried yet. Widow Flett had promised to show Rose how to cast stitches on the knitting needle, while Freya was going to let her assist with the cheese making. Rose hadn’t evenbegunto learn about the fishing industry yet.
And then there was Thorfinn. The man who made her believe not in fairy tales but inlove. Companionship.Until death do we part.
Rose had been wrong to think a union was merely an exchange of necessities and wants—or perhaps she’d been wrong to think she had nothing to gain from a partnership. She was strong alone.Sufficientalone.
But with Thorfinn?
She felt right. They fit. The crofter and the heiress. It shouldn’t make sense. But then again, he was not just a farmer, and she was not just a rich adventuress. They challenged each other to be more.
Rose had always loved a challenge. And this one was sure going to be thrilling.
“I plan to stay here on Hamarray,” Rose finally answered.
Thorfinn’s fingers flexed around hers—tight and strong. “For how long?”
“I’m thinking forever ... after all, it is full of the people that I have let into my heart. That is the true mission that your brother left for me.”
Another squeeze, and Rose swore she felt it in her soul.
“I find ...” She paused as she swept her eyes over the islands. “I find I belong here.”
“That you do, lass, that you do.”
As if of one accord, they turned together, their mouths meshing. Hunger met hunger. Joy met joy. Need met need.
She had no idea how long they stood at the headlands, the winds gently buffeting them as they drank each other in. Even the cry of the birds seemed more joyous than scolding. Waves crashed against the rocks below, cymbals to this particular orchestra. High in the sky, the sun shone brightly. Midsummer was mere days away, and the land was awash in light.
Rose broke the kiss and spun them madly about until they both collapsed. Even Thorfinn was laughing heartily as they lay tangled together. Somehow, they both managed to sit up, and Rose laid her head against Thorfinn’s shoulder.
“It was worth the wait,” she told him as they once again looked over Hamarray and Frest.
“What was, lass?” Thorfinn asked.
“Finding a home.” She swept one of her arms over the landscape. “It’s right here. With the people of Frest. With you.”
“You’re going to make a fine laird.”
“Hmmm. Does that mean I need to do my duty and marry and beget heirs?”
