“Of course, my lord,” Fergus said. “I take full responsibility. Everyone was on alert, and I should have double-checked that Ms. MacGuire realized we didn’t want to interfere with her personal freedom.” He gestured to the courtyard that was still almost totally lost in fog. “Only watch for possible accidents.” He added gravely, “I didn’t believe I had the right to speak to her in those terms. Perhaps it would be better if you explained that to her?”

“Or perhaps I should place a call to Seth Caleb and let you explain to him why you didn’t take better care of her?” His voice was low and silky. “Yes, that might be a better way to handle it.”

“No, it wouldn’t.” They still couldn’t see Jane, but MacDuff could recognize her voice somewhere on the other side of the fountain. “Stop trying to intimidate him, MacDuff. We both know it’s my fault.” She was crossing the courtyard toward the steps. She was wearing a brown leather jacket over taupe suede pants and carrying a sketch portfolio over her shoulder. She smiled at Fergus as she climbed the steps toward them. “Sorry, Fergus. I thought I’d be back an hour before this. I got…involved. When I woke and saw the fog, I knew I wasn’t going to want company.”

“That’s quite all right,” Fergus smiled back at her. “But I’d appreciate seeing what involved you if I was going to suffer for it. Will you show it to me?”

She nodded. “Tomorrow. But you weren’t going to suffer. MacDuff was bluffing.”

“Don’t be too sure,” MacDuff said dryly. “I wasn’t going to be the one to take the brunt of Caleb’s irritation when he found out you’d disappeared for half the day.” He gestured for Fergus to leave. “But she’s right, it’s her fault, so we’ll let her handle Caleb.” He turned back to Jane. “Since you’re the only one who appears to be able to do it. You didn’t have breakfast? Would you care for tea and biscuits?”

She nodded. “I’m starved.” She followed him into the library. “And I really am sorry I caused a ruckus. I’ve just been surrounded by people ever since I got here, and I needed some alone time.”

“I might be persuaded to forgive you,” MacDuff said as he gestured to a seat on the couch. “As long as I get a glimpse of that sketch before you show it to Fergus. I refuse to be in second place. It must have been a masterstroke of inspiration that sent you out into the fog.” He buzzed for the housekeeper. “Was it worth it?”

“It was for me.” She leaned back on the cushions. “But I don’t know if it will be worthwhile to anyone else. We all have our own values.”