But while the life I gave to Maggie might have been my own invention, she began her own life every bit as real as all the other Graeme and Moray children running through these pages.

There were seven Moray children in this generation born at Abercairney (as a side note, the estate’s name is now spelled as Abercairny, but when I began to write my books, I used an older spelling and have chosen to retain that now to be consistent).

To avoid confusion, I did not put all the children on the page. William, the eldest, grew to be the laird in his turn, commanded a troop of horse at Sherrifmuir, and passed the estate to his heirs, who still hold it and care for it. Anna married David Graham, Tenth Laird of Fintry, while her sister Emelia married James Graeme, Ninth Laird of Garvock, keeping their family well bound to their mother’s kin, which sometimes earned them the aid of the younger Marquis of Montrose.

James, their second-youngest brother, died young.

But Robert—called Robin by his family and close friends—came closer to the threescore years and ten the Bible felt a man should have, and he lived many of those on the edge, no stranger to adventure.

Although his time spent in what is now the Lower Argyll Tower of Edinburgh Castle cannot have been comfortable, he was home again by Christmas. His old friends did not let him down, for on November 13, 1707, the Earl of Mar—who was then at the Palace of Whitehall in London—wrote to tell his brother, Lord Grange, “I have got the Queen’s hand to a warrand for seting Robt Moray at libertie.”

Robin was released from prison in December, but his time by his own hearth was brief.

The following spring, after the failure of the Jacobite invasion attempt, he was taken up again with other Scottish noblemen and members of the gentry suspected of being involved in the plot. They were marched as prisoners to London in three divisions, sent from Scotland a week apart from one another. Robin was in the first division, which left Edinburgh on April 29, 1708, and was along the way exposed to all the coarse humiliation heaped upon them by the English standing at the roadsides.

It was while he was on this march and separated from his family—unable to protect them and most likely worried for their welfare—that his second son, named John, was born.

He would not get to hold his son for many months. Despite the efforts of his noble friends, he was held prisoner in the Tower of London until he was finally able to arrange his release in January 1709 in exchange for posting £6,000 bail.

None of this seemed to stop him from continuing his service to the exiled King James VIII, although he did it in clandestine style—at least until the Jacobite rebellion of 1715, when he came out into the open with his sympathies, serving, like his brothers Maurice and William, in a regiment of horse.