Gilroy said, “I should imagine that you would. It is not every child could claim the children of the lairds of Abercairney and of Inchbrakie as friends.”

I thought it might have been my ears alone that heard him put the faintest stress on “claim,” as if to say her story was unlikely, but she’d evidently heard it, too.

Her head came up. “It is the truth.”

Since I was standing in for Turnbull, I was at the head of this inquiry—Gilroy was my junior, and although he worked directly for Lord Grange and was more educated than myself, I reasoned it was better, from the outset, to establish who was in control.

Before he could reply to her I came between them, firmly. “I am certain my clerk meant no disrespect.”

Gilroy glanced at me. One eyebrow might have lifted slightly higher than the other, but he faced her and said, “No indeed. They are fine families both, and you were fortunate.” He inked his pen and made a careful note. “The old Laird of Inchbrakie did have sons, but only one who followed in his footsteps and became a soldier, as you say your husband’s father was, so then your husband’s father must be…”

“Patrick Graeme,” she confirmed, as though she did not wish to let another speak his name. “Captain of the Edinburgh town guard.”

Helen was too young to have any memory of the late rebellion that had cost King James his crown some twenty years ago, but those of us who’d known this town before that time could well remember Captain Graeme. Even though I’d been a lad myself when last I’d seen him, still his figure rose before me clearly and commandingly.

“Except his rank is colonel now,” said Gilroy, “since he crossed to France in service of our late king. He does serve the young James now, I’m told.”

“Then he’s misguided,” Helen said, “and I shall pray God turns him from the reckless Jacobites who would divide our country.”

Gilroy sidestepped a reply to that. I did not blame him.

In the years since old King James had been forced from his throne and fled to exile, taking his then infant son along with him, his followers, the Jacobites, had fought for his return, and with his death their focus had turned to the birthright of his son, another James, not yet turned twenty, whom they held to be their rightful king.

Meanwhile old King James’s daughter, Queen Anne—being Protestant where he had been a Catholic—held the throne that he had lost, and her supporters were full as determined not to let her half brother return to take it from her.

I myself took neither side. I’d seen too much of conflict and the lives that it could ruin.

Mrs. Graeme smoothly said, “My husband’s father’s rank was colonel here in Scotland, also, even when he was the captain of the Edinburgh town guard. He was serving as lieutenant colonel in the forces of the king when he was chosen to be captain of the guard, and that appointment did not then erase the rank which he earned by his honor.”