Jean shook her head. To the captain, she said, “He was plainly provoked. Watson called him a rascal, and other bad language besides. There are witnesses.”

“Not all the witnesses will take the part of a man of my guard.”

Jean had tears on her face. She wept often, these past few days. “What will I do? Captain, what will I do with the bairns? I can’t—”

“Hush, now.” He folded her into his arms. “Be brave.”

“I’m not brave.” Jean’s voice sounded small, muffled against Captain Graeme’s strong shoulder. “I can’t be.”

“Ye must be,” he said. “For the bairns.”

Bessie tugged at Captain Graeme’s leg and asked him, “Is my daddie well?”

Jean straightened from the captain’s arms and wiped her eyes. “Of course he is,” she answered Bessie. “And we’ll keep him so.”

“Why does he not come home? I want to see him now.”

Jean said, “We all do wish to see him, but he’s where we cannot visit.”

Lily knew that was not true. They’d said her father was now in the Tolbooth, and she knew that people in the Tolbooth, whether prisoners or soldiers, could have others come to visit them, but she knew it was impolite to contradict her elders. She said nothing.

Looking up, she found that Robin was now watching her. “What is the name of your kitten?” he asked.

“I’ve not named her yet.”

“It’s a boy kitten,” said Robin.

She gave him no answer, because in that curious way, time had twisted, and Robin was gone again, and in his place stood the soldier named Morison, looking out into the close.

Jean said, “She’s a bitter, vengeful woman. Others lose their husbands, and her man was in the wrong.”

“The captain did the best he could with her,” was Morison’s reply. “He offered money—a fair sum, I’m told, if she would let the matter drop, but she was having none of it. I’m sorry, Jean.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Jean rubbed her eyes. “Is it a good thing that the Earl of Errol now does have the judging of it, do ye think?”

“I cannot say. I ken the captain hopes the earl will be a fairer judge than would the Magistrates, but we will see. There’s little justice in the world for such as us.” A hard wind gusted through the close, and raised the dust in dancing swirls. “A good day,” he told Jean, “to be indoors.”

Lily was kept indoors now every day, and not allowed to go meet Jamie after school. “There’s too much danger in the streets,” was all that Jean would tell her. Lily looked toward the wall, to where her father’s sword hung in its sword belt, waiting on the peg, and thought she understood.

Until he was returned to them, they were not safe. Yet knowing that his sword, at least, was with them still, helped make her feel a little better.

My sword stays here, he had said.

It stayed there all that week, and on the Tuesday evening came another knock—this time from men of the town guard—and Jean said, “Come now, let’s go see your daddie, he’s at Captain Graeme’s house.”