On the broad ledge of this third window I saw a short brass candlestick that had been fitted with a brand-new candle, yet unburnt.

“I wonder, Sergeant Williamson, if I might have your help.”

I turned, and meeting Lily’s eyes directly felt off balance though I covered it with confidence. “Of course. Just tell me how.”

“If we could bring this table close to Mrs. Turnbull…”

Moving furniture was something I could do that made me feel I had a purpose. There was a second, plainer chair that had no cushions but a seat of woven cane. I brought that, too, and found a third chair in the farther corner that was partly broken and had one leg shorter than the rest but did consent to bear my weight if I sat very carefully.

While I was taking care of this, I set my book and papers on one corner of the table. By the time I’d finished, Lily had spread out an offering of cheese and bread and cups of ale, with bowls of nuts and raisins.

Helen had recovered. “I apologize. I did not think I was so weak.”

“It is not weakness,” Lily told her. “You’ve a bairn that’s stealing space beneath your ribs and leaving you no room to breathe when climbing, that is all. I’ll wager even the sergeant would find stairs a struggle if he were in your condition.”

Helen smiled at that. “You’re very kind.”

I stole a handful of the raisins and remarked that, if I were in her condition, I would not be climbing stairs. “I would be sitting with my feet up, letting people wait upon me at my leisure.”

“Liar,” Helen called me. “You’ve been like a caged bear all this week, unable to get out of doors. You’d never make it through confinement.”

Lily asked her, “Will you stay in town when your time comes?”

“No, my husband’s family home is in the Borders, near to Minto. He would like me to go there, for it is sure to be quieter. And safer,” Helen added, “if the Jacobites continue to cause trouble.” She looked at me. “We’ll have to bring you with us, when we go. For company. The country is a pretty place but there’s no true society, and one can only take so many turns about the garden before going altogether mad.”

My mouthful of raisins prevented me from answering, but Lily said that taking turns about a garden sounded lovely.

“There was a garden where I lately lived,” she said, “and spending time in it was truly close to my idea of heaven. Anyway, you’ll have your bairn to keep you company this time, so you’ve small chance of being bored. Is it a lad or lass you’re wishing for?”

I saw how her smile disarmed Helen.

Helen smiled back. “I know that men are always hoping for a son to be their firstborn, but in truth, I privately am wishing for a daughter. I do not understand the mind of boys. I don’t believe that I would know the way to raise one.”