Thorfinn’s head bobbed in an almost reflexive action—as if he needed to move to release some of the emotional pressure bearing down upon him. Rose stopped talking, and the two of them sat for a beat or two in silence. She wished again that she could ease some of Thorfinn’s pain, but the best she could do was sit quietly, offering support.
When he was able to go on, Thorfinn began to read again.
But I felt safe here—too safe. In my foolishness I told a single person about how I escaped. It was only after that I began to notice strange things. Odd things. I thought it was just my damnable imagination that had me thinking that spies were everywhere. But it wasn’t.
I began to secrete my work in caches about the island—insurance for my safety and protection of my research if I approached the wrong person with my findings. Then before I placed everything in motion, I received news that the nurse who had saved my life had been discovered and was being held captive by theGermans. I instantly wondered if I was the cause of her capture—if I had confided in the wrong person about her.
“Does he say who?” The question burst from Rose’s lips before she could stop it. Immediately, she clasped her hand over her mouth. She needed to allow Thorfinn to read the letter at his own pace, but the nervous fear rumbling through her made her anxious. It sounded dreadfully like someone on Hamarray or Frestwasinvolved, and the confirmation shook her more than being rear-ended by another automobile.
Thorfinn, however, did not seem annoyed by her outburst. Instead, he scanned the letter. When he spoke, he sounded weary ... defeated. “No, lass. He’s only left us more blasted clues to follow for the rest of his notes.”
“There’s more searching to be done?” Rose’s eyes fluttered shut as overwhelming exhaustion swept over her too. She had so hoped for answers, but she and Thorfinn had just found more pain and questions.
“He does explain away one of the mysteries that’s been plaguing me,” Thorfinn said, but he didn’t sound relieved ... just fatigued. In a tired voice, he read on.
As I write this letter, I am about to return to the Western Front in an attempt to free my former nurse. I doubt I shall return, but I must try—even if it means dressing as a French poilu, crossing No Man’s Land, and then finding a German officer’s uniform to wear. I can tell no one of my plans. I know not who to trust. I am sorry that I used that date for the cipher, but it is the only one that just the two of us would know.
I dare not lay out my findings in this missive, as I fear it is still too easily discoverable even with all the precautions I made. I leave for you more riddles to determine the locale of my conclusions.
Signets mark the king’s great stand.
Centuries of rocky love doth keep the heart.
Pitch ’twas game where north winds doth swept the dust.
Surgeons slice and operate nigh the shade of rest.
Yours until the sea stacks,
R
“Do you know what he means?” Rose asked softly.
“Nay.” Thorfinn shook his head as he reached for the translation. “I haven’t the foggiest idea at the moment, Rose.”
“It’ll come to you in due time.” Rose gave him an understanding squeeze. “The letter was a bit of a deluge of emotion for you—for both of us. We both need time to mull it over.”
“Reggie was close to Astrid. And if she was involved ... well, that casts suspicion on Widow Flett, my stepda, and ... just about everyone—although I cannot see Astrid’s grandmother and Sigurd taking up spying. The two of them wouldn’t bring danger to Frest—no matter how much money they could make. But Astrid is young and has had such a hard life of it already. She always swore she wouldn’t be a gutter girl preparing fish forever.” Raw pain laced Thorfinn’s words as he squeezed and unsqueezed his left hand. An echoing sadness filled Rose, and she wished she could deny his suspicion about his cousin—both to him and to herself. But she could not.
“What about the earl?” Rose asked. “Was he in residence at Muckle Skaill at the time?”
“Aye.” The barest hint of life came back into Thorfinn’s voice. “And Reggie could never see his father for who he was. He might have told him.”
“Mardidtake our bait,” Rose pointed out. “It will give us the perfect opportunity to watch him. We’ll unravel this spy ring one way or another.”
“I just wish I could figure out Reggie’s riddles so we could end this once and for all.” Thorfinn didn’t look at Rose as he spoke. Instead, hestared down at their translation of his brother’s letter, his neat, precise handwriting so different from the viscount’s brazen scrawl.
“Maybe we should go somewhere else. You said that you don’t think well in Muckle Skaill.”
His head snapped in her direction. “You remember that?”
“Yes.”
He glanced away and rubbed at his puckered skin. She’d noticed he did that when working through something that upset him. It was the same as her cigarettes. What did that say about the two of them that he automatically sought an old wound and she an old vice?
“There’s a lot of specters floating in these hallways, but it’s time I told you about them. They’re all tied up in this whole bloody thing,” Thorfinn ground out.
Rose swallowed, wondering how she could make this easier for him. Maybe a simple, direct question would help. “The date. What is the significance of the date between you and your brother?”
