“Why the hell do you want these islands anyway? What good are they to you?”
Since Rose could hardly tell Mar the truth, she gave an answer a man like him would understand. “Because I can. Now I think it is time for you to leavemyisland. Our lawyers can handle the transaction from here.”
The earl’s jaw clenched threateningly, but he turned and stomped from the room. Rose stood in the circle of light from her electric lantern until she realized that she was shaking. Collapsing into the chair, she stared out into the dark night and saw a flash of green dance across the sky in an eerie, undulating wave.
“My word, did I just buy two islands?” Rose whispered into the silence. “On a whim? With virtually no consideration beforehand? I haven’t changed at all, have I?”
Chapter 3
“It looks like—”
The wind swept away the rest of Myrtle’s words, not that Rose had been paying much attention to her friend. Rose was standing in the middle of a row of empty, decaying pheasant coops on the edge of a steep cliff as she reanalyzed the events of the past night. Rolling her cigarette through her fingers, she realized that there was probably a metaphor in her shabby surroundings. Buying two entire islands just to chase after clues seemed even more impetuous now with the sun illuminating all the land to which Rose had laid claim.
But it was too late to stop the purchase. The earl had stormed away at dawn, and Rose hoped that she hadn’t banished the very man whom she should be tracking.
From the hillcrest, Rose could easily see in all directions except the portions of the horizon blocked by the mansion. It was no wonder the previous lairds had chosen this locale for their grand home. Judging by the ruins of the towerlike broch on the other end of the headlands, the ancient inhabitants had also taken advantage of the stunning views.
There was something powerful in standing there, with the sea beating against the towering red sandstone cliffs on one side and the rolling, bumpy slope of the land on the other. It was drama and peace all in one single glance. And this land—that Rose didn’t particularly want and certainly didn’t need—would all be hers soon, like it or not.
Frustrated with the situation and with herself for once again jumping into something without considering the consequences, she nudged a pile of pheasant feathers caught in the crevice of a rock with one foot. The wind caught the loosened debris and sent it sailing over the cliffs.
Rose needed to literally drive off her skittering, nervous energy, but her mechanic was still readying her Raceabout. At least the new car had arrived in time. Even on a small walkable island, Rose did not wish to be without transportation, so she had made the complicated arrangements for her vehicle’s transport to Hamarray even before she’d planned her own trip to the Northern Isles.
“Invaded!” Only one word of Myrtle’s shout reached Rose’s ears this time, but it made her immediately stiffen her spine. Her heart jerking with almost painful force, Rose instantly imagined U-boats converging on the island, their periscopes poking ominously from the choppy waters. But when she caught sight of Myrtle’s teasing grin, Rose forced her muscles to relax.
Tarnation, she hated how anxious the war had made her.
Walking headlong into the gusts, Rose strolled toward her best friend, who stood looking in the other direction to observe the surprisingly lush isle of Frest across the natural sandy causeway rather than the sheer red cliffs of Hamarray beneath their feet.
“I still didn’t hear all your words,” Rose shouted at Myrtle as she finally fought her way to her friend’s side despite the gale trying to blow her back toward the bluff.
“It appears that your brand-new fiefdom is about to be invaded!” Myrtle did not even put down her binoculars.
Although the sunlight remained low and weak, Rose still shielded her eyes as she scanned the seascape. She noted a small rowboat bobbing along in the stretch of water between the conjoined islands.
“Do you think the German Navy has been reduced to dinghies?” Rose asked lightly, her tone purposely belying the initial flash of fear that Myrtle’s announcement had caused. Carefully, she tracked theprogression of the wooden hull. It looked more like a cork than a vessel, bobbing up and down as it crested the waves.
“Well, yes, since the Imperial Fleet is currently moored behind our backs under the guard of the Brits,” Myrtle responded. “This visitor, however, appears more Viking than Visigoth. He has the most impressive rowing technique, and given the shape of his upper arms, I’d say that he’s no stranger to the sea—”
Rose plucked the binoculars from Myrtle’s hands and lifted them to her own eyes. When she caught sight of the sailor, she felt an immediate—and decidedlyunwelcome—tug of appreciation. She didn’t have time for distractions of the flesh, and the visitor was carnality itself. Despite the chill damp, the man wore only a sweater. The wool pulled tightly against his back, revealing each stretch and bunch of his muscles. Although Rose had admired her share of posteriors, she’d never ogled a man’s shoulder blades before, yet now she could not help herself.
“I can see why you called him a Viking,” Rose told Myrtle.
“He is my find, you know,” Myrtle said airily, but she made no move to retrieve her binoculars.
“It ismynewly claimed isle that he is intent on sacking, and you’ve already called dibs on the broch.”
“True,” her friend agreed.
“I do wonder why he’s rowing rather than walking here,” Rose mused as she watched him give the oars another mighty heave. “The tide is out, and the natural bridge between the islands is passable.”
“But the water is rising. There’re already puddles along the sandbar that weren’t there before.”
“Thunderation!” Rose lowered the binoculars in disgust. “I was planning on driving across to Frest as soon as Harrold finished readying my Mercer. I need torace, and Hamarray is far too hilly to go the speed that I want. The sandy ring of beach around Frest will be perfect.”
Rose yanked the field glasses back to her eyes to watch the islander bring his boat ashore. He made quick work of tying up the dinghy to the pier, perhaps even faster than Rose herself could.
The visitor rose and started up the crest of Hamarray straight toward them. The land was uneven with dips and valleys, almost like a mountain range in miniature, so he’d disappear from view and then reappear. When his features finally came into focus, Rose involuntarily sucked in her breath—andnotbecause she recognized him as the man who’d been working on his boat when she and Myrtle had arrived.
