For now, however, she would enjoy the moment. The mill was on solid footing again—or soon would be. She had weathered her initial doubts, endured caustic remarks from disgruntled villagers, tried to ignore suspicious glances, and seen through Hardy’s little con game to get control of the island. She wasn’t sure whether she had entirely put the Jimmy Joe McLeod situation behind her, but like Scarlett O’Hara, she would worry about that another day.
She entered the village, walking with a jaunty step. Dressed in her colorful heather-pink vest, heads now turned toward her with smiles and greetings.
“Mornin’ tae ye, laird,” said a woman Loni had never seen before, pausing to smile and curtsey slightly as she passed.
“Good day, Miss Ford,” nodded a man, whose wife at his side smiled shyly.
Loni crossed the street and entered the market.
“Mornin’ tae ye, Miss Ford,” beamed the lady behind the counter.
“I see you have a fresh supply of flowers,” said Loni.
“Aye, mum. An’ quite a stir it was yer buyin’ flo’ers for the folk at the mill. They’re grateful for a’ ye’ve done.”
“Flowers was the least I could do,” said Loni with a smile.
“I hear ye had supper wi’ the chief,” said the woman.
“People know about that, do they?”
“Aye, miss. The whole village kens it.”
“Well, it was very nice. David explained how the Tulloch family came from the Highlands—it is all so interesting. Yes, I enjoyed myself very much.”
She left the market and continued into the center of town. Cheerfully she greeted the women and an occasional fisherman walking toward the harbor. Everyone seemed to know of her speech at the mill and her evening with David.
Let them talk! thought Loni. She would do her best for them. But she wouldn’t try to hide it like old Macgregor. She would win them over with kindness. And what better time to begin than the present? She would see if she could coax a smile out of Mrs. MacNeill.
With eager step she headed for the bakery. Walking briskly, she came up behind two ladies engaged in animated dialog. She intended to fall into step with them. But with soft-soled shoes on her feet, the ladies did not hear her approach behind them. As fragments of their conversation caught her ear, Loni slowed.
“Oh, aye, but what is poor Audney thinkin’?” one was saying.
“. . . naethin’ o’ it, I tell ye,” rejoined the other, “means naethin’ . . . chief was jist bein’ neighbourly . . .”
“Think ye that’s a’ . . . way I hear it, the lassie was at the Auld Hoose maist o’ the night.”
“. . . dinna believe a word o’ it! The chief wouldna . . . a thing no man o’ dignity would dare . . .”
“. . . jist tellin’ ye what I heard . . . an’ wearin’ a skimpy red dress, the way I hear . . . nae doobt what was on her mind.”
Loni gasped as she fell back.
“Jist gossip, I tell ye . . . ye ken the chief . . . has tae be civil tae the lassie . . .”
“Aye . . . but he’s proposed tae Audney . . . shouldna be carryin’ on wi’ the American lassie . . .”
“Oh aye . . . a’body kens Audney’s still in love wi’ him. But after . . . at the Auld Hoose . . . chief still in love wi’ her?”
Loni’s steps froze. She turned away, face flushed, lungs struggling for air.
A moment later she was hurrying back the way she had come. She had to get away. This was awful! Did they really think she was trying to seduce their chief?
David was too good and pure and honorable. How dare they associate him with such low rumors! Did they really think she was a Jezebel?
By now she was half running past the market, eyes stinging, face hot, hurrying desperately to get out of the village.
And David . . . engaged to Audney!
That was the most stunning blow of all.
Engaged.
It was suddenly obvious. She should have seen it a mile away.
Loni hurried past several outlying houses and turned from the road toward the sea. A few minutes later, turbulent emotions overwhelming her, she was walking along the beach.
It had been years since she had had to endure the humiliation of being gossiped about . . . of suspicious glances and cruel whisperings.
Proposed . . . The word seared her brain like a hot knife.
“He’s proposed tae Audney . . . shouldna be carryin’ on wi’ the American lassie . . . Oh aye . . . a’body kens Audney’s still in love wi’ him.”
Over and over their words rang in Loni’s ear.
“Proposed tae Audney . . . Audney’s still in love wi’ him . . .”
Why should it rattle her? Audney and David had their lives to live. It was none of her business. She had no reason to get flustered. Why, then, could she not stop the words she had heard, and why—?
Loni’s eyes went wide. She shook her head in disbelief. No, it couldn’t be that!
Then why did the blue of his eyes, even if one of them was swollen, take her breath away?
There were a million reasons! Why shouldn’t it? she argued with herself. She was only human after all. They were just friends, nothing more. Why shouldn’t his laughter make her smile? Friends enjoyed each other’s company, didn’t they? Why shouldn’t she notice his eyes and laugh with him? Women paid attention to things like that all the time.
Why did the vision of David’s smile make her heart flutter? Why had the sight of him in his kilt at the door of the Cottage sent a rush of heat up the back of her neck?
She shook her head as if to banish the outrageous notion. The idea was preposterous . . . unthinkable.
She was practically engaged to Hugh. David was engaged to Audney!
No one owed her an explanation. Then why did learning of their engagement upset her? She wasn’t upset. She refused to be upset!
She was just . . . surprised, that’s all. She hadn’t known . . . hadn’t expected it.
Yes, that was it. She was just surprised.
Why shouldn’t David have one more secret? She had no claim on him. She couldn’t expect him to divulge every detail of his life.
So he was engaged . . . so what? What did she care? It changed nothing.
Actually, this was good news. Audney was a sweet girl. She deserved someone like David rather than the oaf Hardy.
Yet all the rationalizations in the world could not still the storm in Loni’s heart. She turned from the beach and was soon walking across the moor along the bluffs that led to the North Cliffs.
Confusion inundated her like a tidal wave. Emotions assaulted from all sides, hammering against her skull like a thousand voices yelling at once. David was engaged . . . engaged! He was off-limits!
Besides, she loved her life in Washington. She wasn’t about to jeopardize everything she had worked for with some overseas schoolgirl crush. Her first instincts had been right. She should never have come here, never become involved in the whole sordid mess.
What if someone found out how she felt? What if a look or glance betrayed her? It would be impossible for them to work together.
Good heavens—laird and chief. Suddenly the quaint arrangement sounded like a relational straitjacket.
More secrets. It was always secrets!
She possessed the secret of all time, and one she could positively not divulge to a soul so long as she remained on the island.
And David. David must never know!
Loni came to the cliffs, then turned inland and south again across the moor. Slowly the turmoil of her feverish brain calmed. She began to breathe more easily. The chilly air against her hot cheeks woke her to the untenable reality of her presence on the island.
By degrees the convulsive earthquake that had rocked Loni’s brain settled into quiet resolve. She knew what she had to do.
48
An Empty Cottage
After his memorable evening with Loni, David slept long into the morning. Now a day and a half after his encounter wi
th Hardy, the full effects of the pummeling he had received were at last being felt over every inch of his body. He had hardly been able to shift in bed during the night without waking himself in pain. When morning came, the eye, which had functioned more or less normally the previous evening, was nearly swollen shut.
By ten-thirty David was coming groggily awake and feeling miserable. The ordeal of getting out of bed seemed unthinkable. Though equally odious was the idea of helplessness, he submitted to the inevitable and reached for the bell Isobel Matheson had placed at his bedside with the stern injunction to use it if he needed anything.
The faithful housekeeper, now pressed into service as nurse, knocked and entered the room a minute later.
“How are you this morning, Mr. David?” she asked.
“I’ve been better, Isobel,” groaned David. “To tell you the truth, I’m feeling rather poorly.”
“Did you and the lassie have a nice evening?”
“Very nice. We talked until after midnight. She is intelligent, witty, and has a delightful sense of humor. Yes, I enjoyed myself. However, now I have to figure out how to get out of bed.”
“You stay where you are, Mr. David. I will bring you tea, and you rest until you feel better.”
“Make that coffee, and strong,” said David.
“Would you like anything to eat?”
“Not yet. But a couple ibuprofen, if you would be so kind.”
“Very good, Mr. David. I will see to everything.”
David remained in bed the rest of the morning. By noon, with the coffee and medicine kicking in, and realizing he was getting grumpy, he managed to edge his way into the shower and then, with a little difficulty, dress himself.
Invigorated from the shower, he negotiated the stairs without incident and entered the kitchen about twelve-thirty. Isobel was setting out plates for the men’s lunch.
“You must be feeling better, Mr. David,” said the housekeeper as her brother and Dougal Erskine walked in.
“Much better, thank you, Isobel—three on a scale of ten now, maybe even four.”
“And what can I get for you?”
“I think I’m ready for a pot of tea.”
“And to eat?”
“I’m not hungry just yet.”
“I wish ye’d let me gie Hardy the thrashin’ he deserves,” interposed the gamekeeper.
“We’ll let him be, Dougal.”
“He doesna deserve yer kindness, David.”
“I’m not thinking of what he deserves, but what we ought to do. God will take care of what Hardy deserves. We have to take care of what we’re to do.”
“An’ he deserves a thrashin’!”
“Then we shall let God give it to him without standing in His way. Hardy’s dangerous when angry. I wasn’t paying attention and I drove him to anger. It was my own fault. Besides, intending no disparagement to your prowess with your fists, Hardy could likely whip you and me together with one hand tied behind his back. I want no stain of murder on Whales Reef during my watch—either yours or mine. So we will give Hardy a wide berth and let him bluster and rant as much as he likes. I intend to keep my distance until he simmers down. I would appreciate it if you would do the same. If you see him in town, follow the example of the Levite with the Samaritan and cross over to the other side of the street.”
For the next few hours David busied himself by puttering about the house, walking outside a time or two for some fresh air, then spent another hour in bed. Finally he got up and tried to read, but by five o’clock and feeling noticeably better, he could stand the confinement no longer.
He donned his boots, bundled up, and with walking staff in hand set out from the house. He had scarcely left the outbuildings behind him before he knew where his steps would lead. After the magic of the previous evening, he wanted to see Loni.
Fondly replaying much of their conversation over in his mind, he slowly made his way over the moor to the Cottage.
The walk between the two houses took longer than usual. He made no attempt to hurry. At length the Cottage came into view. He approached and, after knocking several times, walked into the kitchen through the back door.
“Hello . . . Alonnah!” he called. “Hello, are you here?”
No answer came from within. David wandered through the kitchen and into the entry.
“Anybody home?” he called up the wide staircase.
Still only silence greeted him. He now made his way into the Great Room.
The room was cold. There had obviously been no fire in the fireplace all day. More and more curious, he left the room and walked out of the house, this time by the front door. The rental car was gone.
Disappointed not to have been able to accompany her into the city—presumably where she was attending to additional business with Jason—David made his way back through the house. He made sure all the doors were closed and everything in order before returning across the island to the Auld Hoose.
He glanced at his watch as he went. He hoped she was home soon. Otherwise she would miss the last ferry of the day.
David was out early the following morning. He was still sore but able to resume his normal activities. He had missed his morning walk. Reviving the tradition he had enjoyed for so many years with his cousin and uncle, he stopped by the bakery for a bag of butteries. He deflected Coira MacNeill’s barrage of questions about his black eye, which proved a challenge. But at least it kept her from too many questions pointing in other directions.
David continued on to the Cottage. Now that Alonnah was hooked on tea and oatcakes, it was time to introduce her to warm butteries topped with butter and jam.
As he came into the drive and approached the Cottage, again he saw no car parked out front. He nevertheless tried the doorbell. There was no response. She must indeed have missed the ferry, David thought, and had spent the night in Lerwick. He returned to the Auld Hoose.
He set out for yet one more trek across the misty moor about one o’clock. Clutching his favorite walking stick, wearing thick brown wool overcoat, rubber boots, and cap on his head, and with his sheepdog scampering to catch up behind him, he could not prevent an expression of concern on his face. Arriving at the Cottage, he was about to enter by the kitchen door, thought better of it, and walked around the house. Still there was no sign of the car.
David walked inside through the front door and slowly retraced his steps from the previous afternoon. The chill from yesterday was even more pronounced. The place felt like a tomb. It was obvious no one had been inside since his previous visit.
Realizing he was taking a liberty, David climbed the stairs. The door to the study stood open. Slowly he entered and glanced about. The leather book on the rolltop desk drew his eye. He turned back the cover, saw Loni’s name, and closed it.
She must be around somewhere, he thought. She was never without her journal.
Still not worried, though curious and growing more concerned, he went to the kitchen to use the phone. A minute later he had Jason MacNaughton on the line.
“Jason, hello, it’s David Tulloch. I assume you had a meeting with Miss Ford?”
“Yes, she was here yesterday.”
“When did she leave?”
“About three.”
“Really—that early?”
“Yes . . . why? You sound worried.”
“She did not return to the Cottage yesterday evening. I assumed she probably missed the ferry and spent the night in the city. But she is still not back today.”
“Right, she wasn’t going back to Whales Reef.”
“Where else would she have been going?” asked David.
“She was on her way to the airport.”
“The airport?”
“She was on her way back to the States.”
“What!” exclaimed David.
“I assumed you knew.”
“I knew nothing about it!”
“I’m sorry, David. All she told me was that she would be flying to Aberdeen
on yesterday’s evening flight. She gave me the keys to her rental car, we signed the final documents, and that was it.”
David stood there stunned. “I’m completely bewildered,” he said at length. “Did she say why the sudden change of plans?”
“Only that she had to get home,” replied Jason.
“What about the mill and all the rest of it? Will your office be handling everything? I hope the people will not be left hanging again.”
“No worry of that. Miss Ford signed all the necessary papers to place the mill and the finances of the estate in your hands. She gave you complete charge of her affairs. She told me to decide on a salary amount for you that I felt was fair, then to pay you double that. She said you would not pay yourself enough.”
“She said that?” said David, unable to keep from smiling.
“She was most insistent that you not set your own salary. As of yesterday, everything on Whales Reef is in your hands. I merely assumed you knew.”
49
A Legacy Begins—The Silence
WHALES REEF, 1924
Brogan Tulloch stood at the window of his room, gazing out on a quiet twilight over Whales Reef. It was sometime after eleven o’clock.
He had left Emily at the hotel a little over an hour ago. Returning home, he had lain down and tried to sleep. But it was too early. He rose from bed, threw on a robe, and paced the room. Eventually he came to rest at the window.
All he could think was how he might contrive to see the girl again. The dinner at the hotel and the walk in the gardens afterward had been the perfect end to the day. Yet once it was over and he had a chance to reflect on his peculiar behavior, he was wondering what was becoming of him.
The night wore on. What passed for darkness at this time of the year descended on the Shetlands. A gorgeous intermingled sunset and sunrise of brilliant reds, yellows, oranges, and purples rose in the south, shifting in that wonderfully imperceptible way gradually from southwest to southeast. He continued to stare into the dusky silence.
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