“Because it would take too long and scare them off.”
“Where are they going to go in a fishing boat?”
He saw her chin tilt and mouth tighten. He knew his sister. Once she began, she would not be dissuaded or deflected. It was both her strength and her weakness. “You’re taking this personally. That’s unwise—”
“No. It’s more than a personal matter, Daf. Yes, I was betrayed, but more than that, my—our—country was betrayed.” I don’t care about the Crown Jewels. Get them back, and I’ll gladly melt them down to buy people decent housing. She inhaled a deep, cleansing breath of sea air. “But Lord Marlton, Hector Neville-Percy, son of a venerable English family, le chevalier sans peur et sans reproche, betrayed his country and I want him to see me when he meets his fate.”
She squeezed his arm and smiled at him. “William Forbes-Sempill, Nineteenth Lord Sempill, gave military secrets to the Japanese in the Twenties, but because he was aristocracy and his father was aide-de-camp to George V, William was set free—lest there be embarrassment. Even then, he did not stop, and British men died while he went on his exclusive, treacherous way. I will not let Lord Hector slip away and do the same thing.”
She ruffled his hair. My wonderful, marvelous brother. “Do you know what I have discovered these past weeks?”
“Tell me.”
“I learned one thing. I have been in stately homes and met the descendants of ancient families. I learned you and I are from good stock, Dafydd.”
“We are,” Dafydd said. My sister, my sister, you surely are.
“Have you heard of the Certainty Principle?”
“No.”
“In 512 Bethany Goodman taught us that in a situation where you are not expected, perhaps even a dangerous one, if you are well trained and believe utterly that you should be there, it will be accepted without suspicion. But you must believe without even an iota of doubt.”
“I couldn’t carry it off, but you could.”
“I’m supposed to be here to finish this. Of that I am absolutely certain.”
“Hey, Collines!” William Watkins shouted, and they turned to see Giles wheeling a bicycle from behind his aeroplane. They ran down to join them.
“A bicycle?” Caitrin said. “You strapped a bicycle to your aeroplane?”
“It is almost ten miles to Castlebay,” Giles said and shrugged. “I was going to bring the Bentley, but it was rather grubby for a Grand Tour. Would have been a poor show.”
Caitrin flung her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “Ta ever so much, my dear brother Archibald.” He looked bemused, as she knew he would.
“If ever you’re interested in a fiancé,” William said and spread his arms wide. “We’ve already had a successful trial run.”
She embraced him and kissed his cheek too. “I shall add you to the list, William Watkins.”
“Fair enough, but not alphabetically.”
“When you get to Castlebay, look for a large granite house right above the harbor, at the end of Pier Road,” Dafydd said. “It belongs to Mrs. Barbara MacNeil. Tell her you’re my sister, and she will look after you.”
“Flown the odd WAAF or two onto the shiny white beach for a naughty weekend, have we?” Caitrin said and saw his color rise.
William saved him. “There’s no telephone service yet, the closest exchange is in Lochboisdale, and the radio station is down. It’s always going down, but the MacNeils have carrier pigeons. I know, I know, but it works better than smoke signals.”
“You know, you know.” Caitrin laughed. “So you’re a gay Lothario too, William Watkins. And I suppose Giles also brings the odd dolly or two over here?”
Giles straightened, looked down his nose at her, and said in his most upper-class voice, “Young lady, that is a State Secret.”
William raised four fingers as he nodded at Giles. “Only dolly officers, though. Oh, by the way, when you’re introduced to the locals, immediately tell them you’re Welsh.”
” Why?”
“Gaelic is the first language here, but they will speak English, as long as you’re not English.”
Dafydd went to his Moth and returned with a knapsack. “We put some serious thought into what you might need. There are sandwiches, a flask of whisky—”
“It gets rather cold at night,” Giles said.
“Twenty feet of parachute cord, wrapped up with four strong elastic bands,” Dafydd said and saw the question on her face. “You’ll be surprised how handy elastic bands and parachute cord can be. I always carry a couple.”
“Thank you.” My brother, always a boy in his own world with secrets to share, but not with everyone. When he was little, she was forever discovering his finds in her pockets: a feather, a marble, a tiny piece of coal that was almost a perfect cube. My lovely brother Dafydd, with his excited grin when he watched me discover one.
“I barely stopped him shoving in a whole parachute,” William said.
“I suggest jamming a regiment of the Coldstream Guards in there, horses and all,” Giles said. “Or a tank. Small one.”
Dafydd was deaf to them. “A pair of binoculars, some cash, and Sandra put in some, um, female things.”
“Hmm, Sandra? Does this Sandra know about MacNeil’s too?” she teased.
Dafydd ignored the question, brought out a small object wrapped in a handkerchief, and unfolded it to reveal a compact automatic pistol. “Walther PPK. Seven rounds, .32 caliber, if things get serious.” He stuffed the pistol into the knapsack, offered it to her, and glanced at his watch. “You should be in Castlebay before they arrive.”
“If you haven’t heard anything from me by the end of the week, call Churchill. Mentioning Operation Cat will get you right through.” She slipped the knapsack over her shoulders, took the bicycle, looked at each man in turn, and said, “Thank you. Fly wisely and be safe. And don’t go shooting flares at U-boats.”
Without looking back, she pushed the bicycle up onto the road, gave a wave, and pedaled away.
