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“I took a long walk,” he told Ailie. “When I returned, I felt in need of a nap, so I was late to piquet. I’m afraid it really came down to a game between Emily and the countess.”

“You did manage to win a round once you finally arrived,” said the countess, “snatching victory from my hand.”

“Humph.” The twinkle Nash glimpsed in her eye gave away her enjoyment of the game no matter Robbie had won.

Emily laughed. “Don’t forget the round you won, Muriel.”

“You should have come on the hunt, Robbie,” said Nick. “Tara is right; only a storm at sea can beat an avalanche for excitement.”

“Unless you were one of the hinds,” put in Ailie.

“Aye,” said William, “we never did find that second one buried under the snow.”

“Our ride along the shore, while perhaps not as exciting as the deer stalking, was breathtaking,” offered Mary.

Hugh’s smile, directed at his wife, made Nash suspect the Ormonds had spent the afternoon in their chamber. Ah, the joy of having a devoted wife. And, just that fast, his thoughts turned to Ailie, who rose from her chair with the other women and departed for the parlor for tea.

Nash leaned in to William. “Might I have a word with you before you retire tonight?”

Robbie paced in his chamber waiting for Nash, who had apparently chosen to linger with the ladies. He, on the other hand, wanted their business done and behind them, so they could enjoy the rest of the holiday. He’d seen far more of Arbroath’s taverns than he desired and far too little of William’s delightful sister. He had even begun to relish the company of the dowager countess, finding her dry wit refreshing.

The door opened and Nash entered, looking, Robbie thought, a bit too pleased with himself. “I had begun to think you would stay in the parlor till dawn.”

Nash took off his coat and hung it on a peg. “I had to speak to William. So, tell me, what happened in Arbroath today?”

Robbie unbuttoned his waistcoat and sat on his bed to pull off his boots. “While you were chasing deer on the moors and avoiding falling snow with the Mistress of the Setters, I managed to locate George Kinloch’s lodgings.”

Nash’s brows rose with a look of surprise. “You followed them?”

“I did.”

“You were not spotted, I hope.”

“Not by George or his companions but, as I was leaving their street, I might have been followed by someone else. I did not turn to look at him but, by the sound of his boots, he is not a small man. Perhaps I only imagined there was someone on my heels, but the hair on the back of my neck prickled. Fortunately, I lost him after crossing the bridge back to the harbor.”

“Who else but one of Kinloch’s guards could possibly be following you?”

“They have friends, I’m sure. We have cornered the fox in his den, Nash. ’Tis time to move.”

Robbie waited as Nash stared into the fire, one hand on his hip. It was like Nash to be pensive before a major undertaking. He had acted that same way before they had gone to St Peter’s Field. “Well?”

“I wonder if we are doing the right thing.”

Robbie gave Nash’s back a puzzled look. “How could returning a fugitive to gaol be wrong?”

Nash whipped around. “Have you heard nothing since we left London? Kinloch is only a fugitive because it was convenient for the government to charge him with a crime he didn’t commit. Together with Henry Hunt, who rots in prison for a speech he never gave, the people here consider Kinloch a hero of sorts, a man who—as Ailie put it—wants only what’s fair for the people of Scotland. Even you concede Kinloch’s speech in November was not an act of sedition.”

“But Sidmouth—”

“Is often wrong, as the scar beneath my hair reminds me.”

Robbie and Nash had never before questioned an assignment, yet now Nash did. Something had brought about a change in his thinking. Or someone. “It’s Ailie, isn’t it? You cannot bear for her to know. Are you sure you haven’t let your infatuation with the girl cloud your judgment?”

“My feelings for Ailie are not a mere infatuation. I don’t like keeping secrets from her, especially one she would not approve of.”

“You are making too much of this. We can slip into Arbroath, see Kinloch back in custody and return, all in a few hours. Ailie will be none the wiser. After all, that is the reason we are here.”

“One of the reasons we are here. Don’t forget, the purpose of our sailing to Scotland, as our brothers and our friends believe, was to celebrate Christmastide with all of them.”