His words were a blade cutting through her inner turmoil. She drew a deep breath as she thought about what he’d said. Yes, it was time to move forward instead of standing still and burning. “That is the most useful advice I’ve yet received. You’ve implied that your life was also shattered. Did you learn wisdom by handling disaster well?”

He smiled with wry self-mockery. “No, I learned by handling it badly. I’m willing to tell you the whole disgraceful tale if you’re interested.”

Her eyes narrowed as she studied him, wanting to see beyond the handsome features to the man’s soul. Once she’d thought herself a good judge of people, but recent years had destroyed that belief.

Now she forced herself to lower her defenses and really look. Perhaps she was wrong, but she felt that Lucas Mandeville was a man she could trust, at least a little. “I’d like to hear that disgraceful tale, preferably over a brandy. Will you join me for talk? Only talk.”

“Only talk,” he agreed, looking mildly amused at her wariness.

She unlocked the door and stepped inside, leaving it open for Lord Foxton to follow. Thorsay House was quiet at this hour. There were no other guests at the moment, and Mr. and Mrs. Brown, the couple who maintained the house, were in bed by now.

A candle was burning on the narrow table in the vestibule. She lifted the candlestick and led the way into a small sitting room on the left. While she lit the lamps, Foxton knelt on the hearth and roused the embers of the coal fire to warmer life. Like a Scot, he didn’t stand on ceremony and wait for someone else to perform mundane tasks.

After the fire was burning easily, he stood and gazed around the sitting room. The walls were festooned with Scottish weaponry: arcs of swords and battle axes, daggers and shields, and a range of other implements of death. He moved to a wheel of dirks and traced his fingertips over the foot-and-a-half length of one.

“A Highland dirk,” she said. “Very good for close fighting.”

He smiled a little and turned back toward her. “Does Thorsay House expect to be invaded by the English?”

“If they come, we’re prepared.” The drinks cabinet was locked, but Kendra had paid to have it well stocked so she had one of the keys. It was a matter of moments to pour two glasses of good French brandy.

She handed him a glass and settled in the wing chair to the left of the fire. “I’m interested in learning about your errors in dealing with a shattered life. When we met, you were a young midshipman eager to test your mettle against the French and eventually become an admiral. How did you become tarnished?”