Petra nodded, thinking of Guy’s taste in books, of Guy smothered in small children. She thought of how tender he could be, how concerned for her reputation despite his own with women. And she thought of his arrogance, of how controlling he could be, of the times when she’d felt he had dismissed her concerns as unimportant. And she thought of the casual, thoughtless cruelty when he’d left her, a lovesick, naïve young girl, without a word of farewell all those years ago. A lot could be explained by the malevolent influence of a bullying father on an impressionable young man.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said after a minute. “It explains a lot of Guy’s contradictions. Did you really think he would never marry?”

Elinor shook her head, the intensity of the last moments broken. “He never seemed to want to settle down, but he does have a duty to provide an heir, so I suppose, at some point . . . but I certainly never thought he would marry for love. I didn’t think he was capable of it.”

Of course Guy would have had to marry at some point. Of course the ancient barony needed an heir. She just hadn’t thought about it before, Petra reflected. The reflection left a slightly sour taste in her mouth. Uncomfortable realities often had that effect, she acknowledged reluctantly.

“Well, let us go down and join the gentlemen,” Elinor said, getting to her feet. “One of the maids will unpack your things while we’re downstairs. It’s time to send the children back to the nursery. Guy will tolerate them up to a point, but they have a habit of overstaying their welcome.”

“They certainly seem very fond of him,” Petra observed, following Elinor out of the room.

“Yes, he seems to have a natural affinity with children, but his patience is not unlimited,” Elinor said with a slight laugh.

Back in the great hall they found Guy and Hamish alone, sitting on either side of the inglenook, nursing glasses of whisky.

“Oh, did you banish the children already?” Elinor asked cheerfully, taking up a piece of embroidery as she sat down in a carved oak chair next to her husband.

“Hamish found them too noisy,” Guy said, reaching a hand for Petra and drawing her down beside him on the cushioned settle.

“It was time for their tea,” Hamish supplied.

Elinor merely smiled and plied her needle. “We don’t as a rule dress for dinner at Innes when it’s just the family, Petra,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind?” Petra exclaimed. “I can’t think of anything better. It’s so irksome at house parties having to change one’s clothes three times a day sometimes. It’s been like that at several of our wedding visits on the way up here.”