“Miss Van Etten?” Mr.Herman’s eyebrows, which matched his thick whiskers, shot so high that the tips disappeared under the brim of his deerstalker. “George Van Etten’s daughter?”
Rose drew in a breath, trying to control the tension that seemed ready to pull her apart. Shewasrecognizable. It didn’t matter whether she was in the States, in England, or on the Continent. Someonealwaysconnected her with her father. But even as Rose fought for calm, she slipped her hand back inside her coat pocket as she grasped for the handle of her gun.
Mr.Miller ignored his friend and marched forward, a genial smile on his face. He looked to be in his late thirties and a decade or two younger than Mr.Herman.
“I saw you race in France before the war when I was touring the Continent. You’re quite the gal! I shall never forget watching you win that motor trial!”
Rose’s shoulders unhunched, and the downward trajectory of her fingers stopped. When people had first begun to associate Rose with racing instead of immediately with her father, she’d been elated. But now ... well, it had been refreshing these last few days in Orkney, just to be ...herwith no preconceived notions about who she should be.
“Why, thank you! It is forever my aim to be memorable,” Rose lied and winked at the man as she once again donned the blithe persona that everyone expected.
“But do you know anything about birds?” Mr.Herman demanded.
“Well, no,” Rose admitted.
“Are you aware of any of the defining characteristics of a great skua or the sound of its call?” Mr.Herman’s facial hair seemed to expand outward.
“I am not, but I am sure Miss Flettis.” Rose flashed a smile in the direction of Astrid, who stood rather like a piece of statuary overlooking the cliff.
Mr.Miller waved his hand. “She is only a local Frest lass who Mr.Herman hires to bring him to the nesting grounds. It is Mr.Herman and I who are theavidbird-watchers.”
“I would assume that the residents of these isles have seen more than their share of feathered creatures and are quite competent to distinguish a seal from a skua.” Rose was feeling particularly protective of the islanders after having her own suspicions about them dashed, and she didn’t like how these men were so cavalierly dismissing Astrid. She thought an amused sound might have escaped from Mr.Sinclair’s cousin, who was finally looking slightly less stiff.
Mr.Herman patted his binoculars as if they were a talisman of knowledge. “One cannot expect a woman to understand the finer details required to truly comprehend the natural world.”
Mr.Miller nodded solemnly. “The study of avian life is complex indeed.”
“Well, I suppose it only makes sense that the birdbrained would understand all that is feathered and fowl,” Rose said.
A sputtery cough definitely came from Astrid’s direction. Mr.Herman’s mustache stiffened with offense, while Mr.Miller’s face flushed a most florid magenta.
“As you two gentlemen seem perfectly equipped to confuse seal for skua by yourselves, I would like to borrow your guide. I promise it will just take a jiffy.”
Before either of the two men could object, Rose lightly grabbed Astrid’s arm and steered her toward the broch. Astrid kept stealing wary glances at her. Despite her earlier humor, the island lass seemed nervous again.
“Please tell me that you are at least making a killing leading those two buffoons about,” Rose said as soon as they were out of earshot.
“Making a killing?” Astrid asked.
Rose didn’t know if Astrid was actually confused by the Americanism or still trying to be evasive. Clearly, she was not comfortable with Rose knowing about her apparent enterprise as a nature guide.
“Earning heaps of money,” Rose explained.
Astrid made a sound that was as noncommittal as possible. It couldn’t even be categorized as a sigh or a grunt.
It struck Rose that Astrid and her bird-watchers were technically trespassing upon Rose’s land. “You do know that I don’t give a fig that you’re on Hamarray. You aren’t causing any harm.”
Astrid’s lips tightened ever so slightly. “Are you certain? You don’t mind Messrs. Miller and Herman traipsing about? Thisisyour estate.”
Rose tossed her hand into the air. “I’m okay with it within a degree of reason, but I’m sure it won’t be difficult to work things out.”
“Ah,” Astrid said, her voice a little stiff. “How much compensation will you be wanting?”
“Oh, nothing like that. You’re welcome to use the land. I just meant that I don’t desire streams andstreamsof visitors. But since I’ve happily lived in hotels for months on end, I am not opposed to rubbing elbows with tourists.”
“You won’t be demanding a percentage of the proceeds? Or a small fee? Or something like that?” Astrid asked.
“No,” Rose said. “Although I would like a list of all the people who visit.” That would help her keep track of who was frequenting the island ... perhaps for treasonous purposes.
