Page 25 of The Secrets of Roan Island

“Honestly, sir, my stay has been… less than fruitful,” I reply, tactfully. “And now, your son is forcing me to leave before you’ve granted me the audience I was promised.”

“Is that why you came searching for my bedchambers?” He raises his eyebrows. “Tired of waiting?”

My cheeks burn. “I wasn’t looking for–”

“Sit, Miss Rose.” He points to the chair again, the action a demand more than an offer.

My eyes flick between Hammish and the door. “I really don’t think I should.”

“Would you deny an innocent old man your company after you interrupted his sleep in the middle of the night?”

“You’re hardly an old man.” And nothing about Hammish Roan seems innocent.

“I’m glad you don’t think so.” His lips curl, white teeth reflecting the dim light in a way that might seem almost flirtatious if it didn’t feel so predatory. “Sit.” The command radiates with power, but I can’t sit, can’t stay here. All my senses are on high alert, my instincts screaming at me to get out.

“Sit!”

I jump at the way his voice ricochets off the walls. His anger is the last thing I need if I want to secure this grant. Gripping the candle tighter, I slowly cross the room and sit on the edge of the seat. It’s lower than the bed, which means I have to look up at Hammish as he leers down at me.

“Better.” Hammish takes a pipe from the nightstand and lights it, clearly feeling no need to rush this conversation, though my stomach sours more with each passing minute. My back isstiff, my feet firmly on the floor, my body ready to bolt at an instant.

He takes his time filling the pipe with what I imagine are sweet leaves, saying nothing, though his eyes find me as he packs the tobacco, tamping it down. I have the impression he wants me to squirm under his unsettling gaze as the strange silence stretches between us. He lights the pipe, inhales deeply as he lays back against the pink tufted headboard, then releases puffs of the vanilla-tainted smoke.

“Now, what do you think of our fair island, Miss Rose?”

“The island?” I switch the candelabra from one hand to the other, not wanting to let it go. “I thought we were going to talk about my grant.”

Hammish’s hand cuts through the air. “There will be time for that later.”

“But Noah–”

“Pay no mind to my son. I invited you to stay through Solstice. So youwillstay through Solstice.” He leans forward and blows a puff of smoke. I cough. He smiles. “I’d prefer not to talk about my sons right now, Ruby. I want to know how you’re settling in. I regret that I haven’t been able to show you around myself. My days have been quite busy. You know how it is for a man of my caliber. There’s always someone vying for my attention.”

I realize suddenly that I’m just one in a long list of people coming to Hammish wanting something. “Perhaps this isn’t the best time. I’m sure you’re tired after a long day. I’ll leave you to–”

I move to stand, but Hammish’s hand shoots out, flinging ash from his pipe onto my wrist. “Sit!”

His teeth scrape his bottom lip. He looks me over and sniffs the air. “Did you come to tempt me, woman?”

“What? No. Of course not. You asked me to sit, so I did. I thought we were going to discuss my grant.”

His laugh is biting and cold. “You don’t really want a grant. You came for the same reasons they all come. To gawk at the reclusive Roans.” The bitterness in his tone takes me by surprise. “I’m so tired of it.” He takes a long puff while I study the volatile man who could save my career or destroy it.

“Do you know how my wife died?” he asks abruptly.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I sink into the chair and shake my head.

“She died because she wasdifferent.” He spits the last word. “She was naive and she disobeyed. Same as my daughter.” The venom in his voice turns to a coughing fit when he tries to take another hit of his pipe. Pain makes his features look old for the first time.

I fidget, uncertain if I should help him, adjust the pillows or something to ease his cough, but the angry fire in his eyes locks me in place.

“You’re much smarter, aren’t you, Miss Rose? You’ll do as you’re told.”

It’s only the tension in the room that keeps me from laughing. Demure obedience isn’t something I’m known for. Even when I was with David, stifled by constantly trying to please him, I struggled to curb my will.

“It seems you’re unwell.” I stand, using the coughing as an excuse to take my leave. “Perhaps we can continue our conversation about my grant tomorrow.”

“No. I think not.” He gives me a penetrating look. “We will discuss it after the new moon party.”

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