DRIVING OUT OF Duncarrick, Rutledge was trying to decide how much weight to give to what Dorothea MacIntyre had told him about the brooch. On the whole, he thought, she was honest and without guile. Confronted, as when he’d asked her about McKinstry and Ealasaid MacCallum had asked about her interview with Elliot, she told lies out of a deep-seated fear of provoking anger. The girl wanted so desperately to please. It was her first—and only—need.

Hamish, taking up another matter, said, “I never gave Fiona a ring. I couldna’ tie her to me, going off to war. The bracelet was a gift to remember me by, but didna’ bind her.”

Rutledge had not married Jean in 1914 for the same reason, using the war as an excuse to put off their October wedding. And in the end it had been the right decision. He felt cold now, thinking about living with a woman who hated him—or hated what he had in her eyes become: a broken stranger.

He wondered if Eleanor Gray might have regretted not marrying Robbie Burns when he was home on leave. . . .

There was a woman sitting along the road just by the pele tower. Something about the droop of her shoulders told him she wasn’t well.

He searched for a name and came up with it. Mrs. Holden. Her husband was the sheep farmer. . . . Rutledge braked and came to a stop just beside her. “Are you in trouble?” he asked. “Can I take you somewhere?”

She smiled ruefully.“The doctor tells me to walk if I intend to regain my strength. But I don’t have the strength to walk. . . .”

“Then let me take you home—or to the doctor, if you’d prefer that.”

He got out of the car and helped her up from the low stone she’d found to sit on. Under his hands her shoulders felt frail.

Lifting her into the car, he settled her in the passenger seat. She was white from even that simple exertion.

“I’m so sorry to be such a nuisance!” she said breathlessly. “It’s silly of me to overdo my strength and put strangers to such trouble.”

Shutting her door, he examined her face. And didn’t like what he saw there. “Let me take you into Duncarrick. I think you ought to see your doctor.”

After a moment, her eyes closed, she nodded. “Yes. I need to lie down. He’ll be glad to let me lie down for a while.”

Rutledge backed the car around and said, “Would you like me to find your husband and bring him to you?”

“No, I thank you. He’s in Jedburgh today. Dr. Murchison or one of my friends will see that I get home. Talk to me if you will. And just let me listen. It takes my mind off the weakness.”