Word had spread throughout the country, and to France. More men had joined the four, and through these past few years, the Bass—the final piece of Scotland where King James’s men still held out undefeated—had weathered a blockade by English ships sent by King William who could not abide to see them so defiant. Yet supplies crept through, with help from those on shore. Lily suspected there were several cellars here in Leith from which provisions for the Bass were loaded under cover of the night into small boats that could be rowed across beneath the notice of the English ships—a risky venture, and with very little profit to be made, as Barbara pointed out.

But although Archie’s temper calmed, Lily knew Walter would have gladly gone himself to join the men who held the Bass for King James.

Through the months that followed, it became a focus for all Walter’s thoughts and hopes, and Lily watched his spirits rise and fall together with that outpost’s fortunes.

Some of the Jacobites were captured on a foray while ashore, taken to Edinburgh, and there imprisoned in the Tolbooth to await their trials. Supply ships came, or did not come. The trials went poorly, and by spring of the next year the prisoners had been condemned to death for treason. One was even hanged. And then the men remaining on the Bass arranged for a surrender.

Having fooled their enemy into believing they had a much larger fighting force, they had been granted generous terms—they kept their arms, they kept their freedom, those who’d given aid to them were left unpunished, those who’d been imprisoned were released, and they were left to sail to France or take their homes again.

But it was a deep wound to Walter, watching this last stronghold yield.

Lily understood, because it stole something from her heart, too, that she could not explain.

When Sabbath came, the grey skies matched her mood, and she was frowning as she fastened Maggie into her best petticoat. Maggie was nearly five now, but she had not learnt the art of keeping still. Lily had trouble with the ties. “Maggie, please will ye stand quietly,” she begged, as Barbara put her head around the door.

“You’re burning daylight,” Barbara said. “The men did get so tired of waiting for us, they’ve gone on ahead.”

Rushing, Lily finished dressing Maggie, tied on both their pairs of shoes, and hurried down the stairs, but when they came out to the close, she could not do it.

Something snapped within her in rebellion, and she could not bring herself to go and sit within that church among the same folk who had cheered for the surrender of the Bass.

In the corner of her apron she had tied the coins meant for the poor box. Handing them to Barbara, she said, “Ye will have to pay the fine for me today, as well.”

She half expected there’d be argument, but Barbara only looked at her and said, “All right, then,” and took Maggie’s hand and walked away toward the church.