The drama of the landscape echoed the emotions tumbling through Rose’s own soul. Excitement wheeled through her in an intoxicating dance, but she could not quite shake the sensation of danger. It wasn’t just that she was currently perilously perched on a narrow, craggy promontory or the sense of nervousness that had pervaded her since she’dreturned from the Front. Until the viscount’s notes were delivered safely to the British authorities, she and Thorfinn were at risk of real attack. Once she completed Barbury’s mission, she would be standing on an altogether different kind of precipice as she confronted the emptiness still lurking inside her since even before the war. And that ... that frightened her more than anything.
Time both crawled and raced by before Thorfinn and Rose reached a wide shelf of rock big enough for at least five people to gather comfortably. Thorfinn ducked into a gaping maw, and she followed quickly, her heart seeming to beat harder with each step. He paused near the entrance and picked up a rusting lantern. After withdrawing a match from his pocket, he lit the wick. “I’m glad there was enough old oil left. It’s darker than I remember.”
“You haven’t been here for a while?” she asked, finding herself whispering. This place, their mission, everything felt hallowed.
“Nay.” He reached up and rubbed the scar on his cheek. “I ... well, I couldn’t. Not after how Reggie and I left things, and then after he died ...”
The broken quality of Thorfinn’s voice threatened to shatter Rose too. She started to reach for him, but Thorfinn cleared his throat. He was obviously burying the pain, but being a champion of that herself, who was she to stop him?
Thorfinn resolutely hoisted the light to reveal a comfortably sized chamber about ten yards deep. A jumble of rotting books lay on a makeshift shelf cobbled together out of driftwood. Two mismatched wooden chairs with patched legs sat on either side of an old crate. A moldy ball rested against the back wall, along with what looked like a jar of marbles and one of jacks. There were drawings on the walls of faraway lands, pirate ships, and epic battles. They certainly were not masterpieces, but they gave the place a certain charm ... or at least they would have if everything had not been covered with mildew.
The melancholy of lost childhood seeped into Rose, and she could only imagine how Thorfinn felt. He had indeed brought her to a sacred place. Even given the importance of their mission, his choice humbled her.
“You spent a lot of time here as children, didn’t you?” Rose’s voice still remained soft, low, reverent even.
“Aye,” Thorfinn agreed quietly, rubbing his hand over one of the seats—Reggie’s, she assumed by the bittersweet quirk of his mouth. “It was just the two of us when I still lived at Muckle Skaill. Astrid sometimes joined us later after my ma married my stepda. Reggie would sneak her books on birds. In his defense, I think he truly was sweet on her, but it never would have amounted to anything. He knew it, and he shouldn’t have played with her emotions. They were of two different classes, and Reggie wouldn’t have married her. She is like a sister to me, and I couldn’t see her hurt by anyone—even my own brother. It was my duty to protect her, even if it meant fighting with him.”
But who had defended Thorfinn’s mother from Mar like Thorfinn had shielded Astrid from Reggie? Clearly Thorfinn had never been acknowledged by the earl—when any man should have been proud to claim someone solid like Thorfinn as his son. Part of Rose wanted to reach out and place a gentle hand on his shoulder, but she wasn’t used to extending comfort.
Instead, Rose walked over to the books. She would have drawn her finger over them but was afraid of causing them to further disintegrate. Some were the type one would expect young lads to read, but the others were heavy tomes on agriculture, drainage, boating, and other topics central to operating a croft on a small island.
“Your brother was training you to be his estate manager, wasn’t he?” Rose watched Thorfinn’s face closely and saw him briefly shut his uninjured eye.
“It was the plan as soon as the earl shook off his mortal coil.”
“Your father wouldn’t have approved?”
“He wasn’t my father.” Thorfinn ground out the words. “He had no use for me—the offspring of one of his maids.”
One of his maids?Not even the earl’s mistress, then? He’d been raised as a servant in his own father’s household? The pain of that reverberated through Rose. Her parents might have been absentminded, but they’d acknowledged and cared for her in their own way.
“He does not sound like a very bright man,” Rose said casually, and Thorfinn rewarded her with a small chuckle.
“It is not an unusual decision for one of his rank.” Thorfinn shrugged too nonchalantly. “In fact, it might have been easier on us all if he’d been lacking in intelligence instead of decency.”
The statement caused a chill to slip through Rose that had nothing to do with the dampness of the cave. Memories of her first night in Muckle Skaill slammed into her. “Until I went searching for information about Viscount Barbury, my social circles and the earl’s never aligned. I always felt there was something off about him, but I was just starting to uncover it when I chased him away from Hamarray.”
Thorfinn’s mouth twisted, and he touched his damaged cheek. “That is for the best, Rose. You do not wish to ever be in his presence for long.”
“What kind of a man is—” she began to ask, but Thorfinn turned from her and cut off her inquiry.
“We should be looking for the metal box.” Thorfinn brushed his hand along the back of the cave, his fingers flitting over the fading artwork. “It’s getting late now, and we don’t want to climb up the cliff in the dark.”
Rose allowed the change of subject. “At least we don’t have to worry about the rising water. This doesn’t appear to be a tidal cave.”
Thorfinn shook his head. “There are a few of those tucked into the cliffs of Hamarray, but this one stays dry ... or rather relatively so. It was one of the reasons we met here. That, and the earl dislikedprecipices. Reggie always said his father was afraid of heights and didn’t want to admit to his weakness.”
Before Rose could ask another question, a scraping sound bounced through the deep alcove. Rose watched as Thorfinn slowly removed a long thin rock from where it had been jammed into a narrow crevice in the back wall. Reggie and Thorfinn had cleverly obscured the hiding place by making it look like one of the gunports in their hand-drawn pirate ship.
“You hid your treasure in a buccaneer’s vessel?” Rose asked.
“We were just lads when we first made our hidey-hole.” Thorfinn chuckled. “I, for one, wasn’t expecting it to be used for actual espionage. Now, Reggie—Reggie was always dreaming up some sort of an adventure, so he might have considered it.”
“I just think a Viking longboat would have been more apropos, that’s all.” Rose waved her hand in the air.
“Ha ha,” Thorfinn said dryly as he pulled out a metal box.
“Is that it?” Rose excitedly rushed to peer over his shoulder.
