“An honor.” He did not bend low above her hand as was the current fashion; only took it in a firm and honest grasp and gave a formal nod that had the same effect.

The countess said, “But you must come and sit beside the fire, or else you’ll catch a fever standing in those wet clothes.”

“Och, I’m not so weak. It was my cloak that got the worst of it, the rest of me is dry enough.” He swung the sodden black cloak from his shoulders to prove it, and the countess took it from his hand and laid it on the fender.

“Nonetheless,” she said, and put her hand upon an armchair by the fireplace in a gesture that fell partway between invitation and command. The colonel gave way with a cavalier shrug, but he waited for the countess and Sophia to find their seats first before he took his own. The earl, who through all this had left the room a moment, now returned and pressed a glass half-filled with whisky in the colonel’s hand.

“There,” he said, “you have your drink. Now tell us what has brought you here. We thought you were in France.”

“I was. I landed to the north of here some days ago, and came to you as quickly as I could. I bring a message from your brother,” he said, looking to the countess and then past her, very briefly, to Sophia.

The countess told him, “Mistress Paterson is family, and does know to keep a secret.”

“Aye, I gathered that much for myself.” Again his eyes laughed privately within the lean face. “When I asked if she’d met Colonel Hooke, she near convinced me he had never been to Slains.”

Sophia blushed. “I was not sure…”

“No, no, ye did the right thing, lass,” he said. “Ye canna be too careful, in these times. It was my own fault, for forgetting ye did not ken who I was—I only meant to learn if ye had seen my nephew and could tell me how he looked, for though we both have been in France of late our paths seem not to cross.”

Sophia frowned in faint confusion. “Colonel Hooke is your nephew?”

“No, lass.”

“He speaks of Mr. Moray,” said the countess, and then answered in Sophia’s place, “Your nephew did look very well when he was here.”

The earl put in, “He was not pleased with me, I think. With such a price upon his head, I could not let him venture out as he desired, to journey through the Highlands, so he had to stay the whole time here with us.”

“I see.” The colonel’s glance touched on Sophia, giving her the feeling that he saw more than she would have wished. She felt relieved that she had already been blushing from her earlier embarrassment, so nobody could blame the heightened color of her cheeks on this new talk of Moray, or on her reaction to the news that Colonel Graeme was his uncle.