I had. I did not wish to ever see the inside of that place again.
He said, “Would ye wish to see Lily there? And under torture? Because I can promise ye, that’s what they do intend. They will use any means to draw my uncle out into the open, and God help both him and Lily if they’re able to succeed.” His mouth made a grim line. “So no, I will not sign your document. And if ye care for Lily as I think ye care for Lily, ye will let the matter drop, for then she’ll be no further use to them.”
I did not waste breath explaining that it would not be so simple. He had told me much, and there was nothing more that he could do that would help Lily. Telling him the full breadth of the dangers she was facing would but add to his own burdens.
I could manage things alone.
I stood, and thanked him. Briefly I considered reassuring him that I’d tell no one what he’d said about his family, but I reasoned he would not have told me in the first place if he’d thought that I’d repeat it, so I only said, above our handshake, “I will keep her safe.”
“I’m counting on it,” he replied.
I had a strange, uneasy feeling when our eyes met that I’d not see him again, and I sensed Robert Moray knew it, too. But all he said, when I had nearly reached the barred door of his prison chamber was, “And, Sergeant Williamson? Take care to watch your back.”
*
As warnings went, it was well timed.
I heard the footsteps falling in behind me as I started down the castle hill. I stopped, and turned. The morning light had raised a mist that lightly hung between the houses, and a man in a grey coat might shelter in a dozen places and remain unseen.
I could see no one, yet I knew full well that I was not alone.
Firmly, I said, “She is with me, now. I am taking care of her.”
No answer came.
But when I turned again and went on walking, no one followed.
I was busy with my thoughts.
Brave though it might be to claim that I was taking care of Lily, it was something else again to do it with the right effect.
If she succeeded in her claim to prove the marriage—if we could find sufficient evidence that would convince the men of the commission she had been James Graeme’s wife—her life would be in danger from the Duke of Hamilton, who sought to hold her hostage as a means to draw out Colonel Graeme.
On the other hand, if Lily failed to prove the marriage, then as punishment the letters Archie held from Maggie’s father would all come to light, and Maggie’s future would be ruined.
There was yet a third threat Lily might not have considered, but that I was only too aware of—even if she did as Archie asked, and saw the marriage proved, he might betray her anyway. She had escaped him once, and to a man like Archie, that was unforgivable.
If he indeed had gathered documents that threw suspicion for his own crimes upon Lily, he’d not hesitate to use them once she’d served her purpose, and he’d gladly stand and watch her hang.
She might hang, too, or be imprisoned at the least, if Gilroy came to the conclusion the certificate was forged, beyond all doubt, and took the matter to the courts.
She’d be beyond my help, then.
But for now, I had control of the inquiry. Gilroy had not yet returned from Dundee. And with a few days more to plan, I could find Lily that safe passage from the chessboard that would let her make a safe retreat.
These thoughts and more were in my head as I came up the curved forestair of Caldow’s Land. I nodded a vague greeting at MacDougall as he let me in.
“What hour d’ye call this, then?” he demanded.
Helen, sitting at the breakfast table near the windows, told him in a cheerful voice, “He’s been with Captain Gordon, do not scold him so.” And then she added, “Come and join us, Adam. Gilroy was just telling me about his niece’s wedding.”
There he sat, inscrutable as ever, eyebrow raised a fraction as he judged my slightly rumpled clothing. As I took my seat, he said, “I’m far more interested in hearing how you’ve spent your week. I’m told by Mrs. Turnbull that you have found Maggie Graeme. Well done. When shall we arrange to speak to her?”
MacDougall poured my ale. It was the one time I’d been grateful for him.
Helen put in, “Did not Mrs. Graeme tell us that her husband’s cousin had her day off work on Mondays?”
“Yes.” It satisfied me to hear my voice sounding wholly natural. “I think that Monday would do well.”
Agreeing, Helen said, “Then you would have her testimony written up in time.”