‘Nearly all,’ said Hooke, ‘have signed their names to a memorial whereby they pledge King James their swords and loyalty, and lay out their requests for arms and aid, to guard his person when he lands. If you will sign it for yourself, and for those others who did give you leave to sign for them, then I will gladly carry it with me to Saint-Germain, and give it by my own hand to the king.’
The earl was sitting back, his keen eyes deep with thought. ‘Who has not signed?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘You said, “nearly all” had signed. Who did not choose to put their name to this memorial?’
‘Ah.’ Hooke searched his memory. ‘None but two. The Duke of Gordon and the Earl of Breadalbane, though both did pledge me their support. The Duke of Gordon said he could not in good conscience sign a document that calls upon King James to come to Scotland and so put himself in danger.’
The young earl glanced along the table to where Moray sat, and in a calm, impassive voice, reminded Hooke, ‘I know of many in this country who do risk as much, for lesser gain.’
Hooke nodded. ‘And I’m well aware of that. I tell you only what the Duke of Gordon said to me. ’Twas my opinion that both he and Breadalbane would not sign more from caution than from any great concern about the king.’
The earl shrugged. ‘Aye, well, Breadalbane has kept his head and health for eighty years, and in that time I do not doubt he’s grown too canny to affix his name to anything except his correspondence.’
‘You may be right.’ Hooke cocked a look towards the earl. ‘Do you then share his cautious nature?’
‘If I did,’ the earl said, ‘you would not be here, nor would there be a French ship anchored now below my castle. Do you honestly suppose that, in these times, no one has whispered to Queen Anne of our involvement? It is sure she knows, or does suspect, and only my position keeps our lands from being forfeit. Yet for these past years my mother and my father, heaven rest his soul, and now myself, have ventured all to aid our king however we are able.’
‘And I do know the king is duly grateful.’ Hooke said hastily, as though he realized he had pressed the younger man too firmly.
It was true, Sophia thought. If it had not been for the countess and her son, King James would have found it more difficult sending his agents across into Scotland to raise the rebellion. At Slains they were sheltered and aided. The countess had even brought in, for Hooke’s comfort, an old Catholic priest, who could yet say the mass. For so long now, Sophia had worried for Moray, and what would become of him if he were taken. She hadn’t considered, till now, just how greatly the earl and his mother might suffer if they were to be convicted of high treason.
They would be called to pay, she thought, with more than just their lands. A noble birth had never been a guard against a sharp drop from the gallows—it but made the fall the greater.
From the head of the table, the earl said to Hooke, ‘I will read your memorial, and if I do approve its terms, I’ll sign, both for myself and for the others who do trust me.’ With that settled, he returned to eating, spearing up a chunk of roasted mutton with his knife-point. Casually, he added, ‘I confess I am surprised you did convince the Duke of Hamilton to sign.’
Hooke paused. It was the faintest wobble of his confidence, but still Sophia saw it. Then his features found their place again. He said, ‘When I did speak of those two lords who did not sign, I meant those lords among the ones I had the chance to meet, and speak with. I regret the Duke of Hamilton did not feel well enough to meet with me.’
‘And so he has not signed?’ the earl asked.
‘No.’
‘I see. Well, that,’ the earl said, smiling, ‘is no more than I expected.’ He stabbed another piece of mutton. ‘Did my mother tell you we have had a letter from the duke’s friend, Mr Hall?’
Hooke raised an eyebrow to the countess. ‘Have you, now?’
She said, ‘You must forgive me, it did come to us by night, while you were sleeping, and with the arrival this morning of Monsieur de Ligondez, it had escaped my mind. Yes, Mr Hall did write to beg a favor of me, that I tell you he is coming north, by order of the duke, to renew the negotiation with you, and that he hopes you will not leave before he does arrive, and that you will not conclude anything with the rest of us, for he is sure you will be satisfied with the proposals he will bring.’
‘Indeed.’ Hooke’s eyes betrayed his interest. Thinking for a moment, he addressed Monsieur de Ligondez. ‘Well, then, I wonder if you could see fit to cruise off the coast for a few days longer?’