There was sickness here in Scotland in that same year, bitter weather, and starvation, and our people did survive.

Some blame the Spanish, and it was indeed their forces who in those last hours compelled our leaving, watching us depart.

But the land we chose for Caledonia was not owned by Spain. When we arrived, it did belong to no one but the Tule—the natives who did live there—and they’d given us permission to create our fort and town upon the bay.

And the Spanish, while they fought us, weren’t entirely to blame.

Whenever Spanish ships attacked King William’s other colonies, his navy hurried to their aid. With us, no help came. That was not by accident.

King William, while he gave his charter to the company when it was formed, had then done all he could behind the scenes to see it fail. The royal proclamations had been sent, not only to New York, but to all English colonies, forbidding them to trade with, correspond with, or give aid to our Scots colony upon the coast of Darien.

The goods we’d brought to trade were useless, then. We could not buy provisions.

All because the English could not bear to let us be successful—could not bear to have our merchants and our trade outpace their own. Their East India Company must have its sure monopoly, no matter if it meant our nation suffered.

That was why our venture failed—because we could not fight each other and the Spanish and the elements together, while our own king at every turn did stab us from behind.

I said none of this to Turnbull, for I knew well where his loyalties did lie.

He carried on, “The late great King William was a good judge of men and their principles, as he did show us at the happy revolution, and Queen Anne seems to be also, for this Union is our chance to move beyond our disappointment over losing Caledonia, and to build a brighter future without fear of any plots or schemes from Jacobites.”

Helen, seeming to have had enough of this talk, said, “And I had better move beyond our breakfast table if I am to make myself presentable for dinner with Lord Grange.”

Her husband rolled his eyes. “It’s not for hours, yet.”

“It will take me hours.”

As I stood to help her from her chair, she looked up at me with a faintly sad expression. “Can we not persuade you to come, too?”

I said, “I’m not invited.”

“I am sure that was an oversight.” She looked to Turnbull. “Would you not agree he would be welcome?”

Cutting in to spare my friend, I said, “At any rate, my horse is hired. ’Tis all arranged.”

She sighed. “You are determined then to leave us?”

I knew she’d grown genuinely fond of me. I gently said, “You will be going down next week to Standhill, to begin your lying-in. I should have had to leave you sometime.”

“But this is too soon.” She held my hand securely. “Captain Gordon’s very certain of this ship on which you’re sailing?”