“I have the perfect candidate in mind,” Rose announced. “I just need to ask him a few preliminary questions.”
“Who?” Mr.White asked with a benevolent grin.
Rose turned to Mr.Sinclair. “Do you have any experience with keeping accounts?”
Sinclair froze as Miss Van Etten cast her brilliant golden-brown eyes inhisdirection. His heart sputtered like the old motor on his fishing boat when he demanded too much from it. Yet at the same time, energy flooded him, making him feel like he was rising on a swell of water. Whether the seas were in his favor, though, was yet to be ascertained.
“It may be prudent to consider someonenotof Frest,” Mr.White said quickly. As always, the damnable man’s words were polite enough on the surface, but it was clear he thought that Sinclair lacked the requisite education and social standing. Which was rich considering that Mr.White was the city-bred fool who wouldn’t know a ram’s hindquarters from a ewe’s.
Miss Van Etten literally waved away the old land agent’s concerns with one sweep of her kid-gloved hand. “Nonsense. Mr.Sinclair is right that the island is unique and requires someone deeply familiar with it.Every quality the three of you have listed, Mr.Sinclair has exhibited in the time I’ve known him, with the exception of knowledge of accounting and law. And I can always consult Mr.Lewis and his associates on the latter.”
Emotions rushed through Sinclair like a winter gale sweeping over the strand, stirring up dreams long buried and feelings he hadn’t quite encountered before. He’d forgotten what it felt like to have someone seesomethingin him—to imagine a future for him.
“I can keep accounts.” Sinclair almost winced at the sound of his voice. It had a choked quality to it, but luckily the toffs didn’t seem to notice. Reggie had always thought Mr.White a preening idiot, and he’d planned for Sinclair to help run Hamarray and Frest when he came into his inheritance. It was one of the reasons Reggie had smuggled books to Sinclair and taught him what he’d learned about estate management. But their estrangement had decimated that boyhood plan. Then his sibling’s death in faraway France had snuffed it out completely. Now it seemed to emerge from the ashes, conjured by the most unlikely source.
“As I said before,” Mr.Lewis added carefully, “there are colleges that provide—”
“Bah!” Miss Van Etten’s hand popped into the air again as she waggled her fingers. “My father only had an education in a one-room schoolhouse until the age of twelve. He managed to rise from being a shopkeeper’s assistant to one of the richest men in the world and head of several business empires. Mr.Sinclair clearly has a fine mind. He’ll do splendidly if he wants the position.”
Did hewantthe position?
Miss Van Etten focused on him again. “I shall pay the going rate—whatever that is. I’ll have Mr.Lewis research that and draw up the paperwork for your employment.”
Land agents made an extremely good living. Sinclair would have no trouble supporting his siblings. He would not have as much time for fishing and the odd jobs he did for extra money, but he wouldn’t havea need for them. While it would be difficult maintaining both the croft and the estate, he was used to long work-filled days.
“This is—” Mr.White’s normally pleasant-pitched voice had turned downright blustery, revealing the persona that he normally showed only to the crofters.
“Rather sudden,” Miss Van Etten’s attorney broke in, his voice calm but laden with meaning. He, too, did not approve of his client’s choice in land agent, not that his reaction surprised Sinclair. In the eyes of these men, he was a mere laborer who’d spent his entire life on a small insular island in the middle of the North Sea.
“Not really. Mr.Sinclair has actually been working as a de facto land agent already. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t even be trying to improve Frest and Hamarray.”
“I’ll be happy to fulfill the position.” Sinclair spoke quickly before the solicitors could interject with more objections. The islanders would need to select a new representative, since he would have divided loyalties, but he would have more power to improve life on Frest as their land agent.
“It’s settled, then.” Miss Van Etten clasped her hands together in a sweeping gesture of finality. “Now, let me read these documents and get them signed. Then, Mr.Lewis, you can see that the land transfer is properly registered, and I can officially become the owner of Hamarray and Frest.”
To Sinclair’s surprise, a sense of relief slipped through him. Mar was really, truly going to be gone from Orkney and his life. But what would the future be like under the new Lady of Muckle Skaill? She might have chosen him now as her land agent, but he didn’t agree with her idea of turning Muckle Skaill into a hotel or erecting a rustic lodge. Other than that, he knew little of her plans for the islands ... or even why she wanted to purchase them so badly. Had he just agreed to dance to the whims of another nob who couldn’t even decide upon the tune that she wanted to play?
AsThe Briarapproached Frest, Miss Van Etten slowed the speedboat and turned off the motor. As they bobbed, she turned toward Sinclair with a serious expression on her face. The winds weren’t whipping today, and they were alone in this stretch of the water. Although they could spy the Flett croft, it was as if they were the only two in a sea of turquoise.
“I’m sorry I sprang my offer to be land agent so abruptly. I probably should have asked you in private, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to do it in front of that smug Mr.White.”
Sinclair grinned as he thought of the man’s slack-jawed response. “After years of him demanding rents and dismissing any of our requests for improvements, I rather enjoyed it myself.”
“I truly do wish for you to be the estate manager, but I don’t want you to feel forced into accepting it. I promise I won’t hire a ‘toff’ from London or America if you’re only agreeing to be land agent to avoid that.”
“I desire the position,” he admitted and then paused to ask the question that had been pestering him. “But why are you so certain I’ll be good at it?”
“Simple,” Miss Van Etten said with a conviction that stunned Sinclair. “You clearly love the land, and you understand the crofters. When we toured the farms, you knew exactly who was doing what improvements and what more could be done.”
It took Sinclair three swallows to clear the ache in his throat. Ever since his mum had died, he wasn’t accustomed to receiving praise. “You don’t have any worries about me being more loyal to the islanders than to the estate?”
Miss Van Etten laughed, the sound not snide but amused. “Mr.Sinclair, I am improving this landforthe people of Frest. I trust you to be honest—perhaps even too honest—at least when it comes to the management of the crofts and Hamarray. You won’t sugarcoat anything,and I like that in a person, especially in a manager. I don’t sweeten things either, and I find life more refreshing that way. Don’t you?”
“Aye,” he admitted, then paused, thinking over her words. “What did you mean by ‘at least when it comes to the management of the crofts’?”
She turned then suddenly toward him, the gold flecks in her eyes shining with clear challenge. If she’d meant to unsettle him, it was working. “There are things you are keeping from me. I don’t believe they will interfere with your duties as an estate manager, but there’s something mysterious about Frest and your past that you’re determined to keep hidden.”
“It is just the endless howl of the wind that makes you think that. Orkney’s gales can make everything appear a bit gothic to the imagination.” Sinclair chose his words carefully. The crofters didn’t need her digging into their secrets.
