Stephen didn’t believe him. The marking most definitely had a darker meaning, one that the servant did not wish to disclose. He didn’t question him further, but at least now he knew the language of the foreign emblems.

Anant turned to Emily, his expression softening. “The children, Mem Sahib. Are they well?”

Emily forced a smile and nodded. “They are at Falkirk, should you like to see them.”

The two talked quietly, Anant helping her to set the room back in order. As the sun grew lower, Stephen drew Emily to his side. “Go and wait with the horses. Before we leave, I wish to speak with Anant alone.”

“There is nothing that cannot be said in my presence,” she argued.

He lowered his voice and murmured in her ear, “He may tell me more if you’re not there.”

A flash of grief caught her, and he squeezed her hand. “Wait at the stables, and I’ll take you back to Falkirk.”

She obeyed, but from her demeanor, he sensed that this conversation was far from over.

When he was certain she’d gone, he returned to Anant. “The Chinese tattoo. There is another man who wears the same marking.” He chose his words carefully, not wanting to reveal too much. “Carstairs is his name.”

“Were I you, I would not trust him, my lord. The man betrayed Lord Hollingford to his enemies.”

Stephen recalled the viscount confiding financial troubles. Could Carstairs have stolen the shipping profits and tried to behave as though Daniel were the thief? Or someone else?

“If I have more questions, will you be in the village?”

Anant nodded. “I will answer whatever I can, Sahib.” His dark face softened. “And if you would permit it, I should like to see Master Royce and young Victoria once more. I helped to care for them when Lord Hollingford was unable to do so.”

Stephen granted permission and thanked Anant once more for the information. The Indian bowed deeply, and moments later, he disappeared on foot toward the village.

The revelation troubled him deeply, for he had trusted Carstairs at one time. And yet, he was not prepared to accept Anant’s assertions without proof. The events were more complex than he’d anticipated and would take time to unravel.

One matter was certain. He would protect Emily and the children above all else.

That night in their bedchamber, a fire burned low in the hearth. Her maid had turned back the covers of the bed, while Emily sat with her knees curled up to her chest, her cotton nightgown covering her from neck to ankle. When the door opened, she jolted at the sight of her husband.

“Did you need something?” She gripped a fold of her nightgown, for he was staring at her with undisguised hunger. All through the ride back to Falkirk, he hadn’t spoken to her. Now, he reminded her of a wolf, stalking his prey.