"My mother used to say that if you can't show a man respect when you sit down at his table, then don't accept his invitation. Now we're sitting here at your table, but it wasn't an invitation that brought us to this place. So maybe that gives me leave to say what I'm thinking."

"By all means," said Carryck dryly.

Nathaniel went on. "It was your man here who put me and my father and our friend in a garrison gaol for weeks, and then when that didn't do the job, he stole our children and put them and us at the mercy of every French warship between here and home. Took a woman like Curiosity--in all her days she has never done anything but good--away from her husband and children, and I don't doubt the worry and aggravation has stole ten years off her life. The Osiris went down with two hundred men on it--and if Moncrieff had had his way, it would have taken my father and me with it. All this, just so you could see me and mine onto Scottish soil. Maybe my father and Rab MacLachlan are dead now, and if they are, that's on your head too. So what I see when I look at you is a rich man used to getting his way, no matter what the cost. And I'm wondering why I should believe anything you have to say to me."

Contrecoeur leaned forward. "It's true that two hundred men and more have lost their lives, but they died for a good cause."

Elizabeth's head snapped toward him. "Since we are to speak plainly, may I ask why you are here, monsieur? I do not understand your interest in this affair."

Nathaniel drew Moncrieff's cloth medallion from his shirt and dropped it on the table. "It's got something to do with this, I'll wager."

"He took it from me," Moncrieff said to the earl, who never even looked in his direction.

The Frenchman smiled at the bit of cloth as another man might smile at his child. "The scapular. Yes, it has everything to do with this. You see, the earl's motives are not entirely selfish. He is a true friend and protector to the most persecuted people in Scotland."

Nathaniel grimaced. "Speak plain, man. "Persecuted" could mean a lot of things."

"By your lady's expression I see she understands me very well."

"The Church of Rome, Nathaniel." Elizabeth's voice wavered a little. "The Catholic church. The earl has given sanctuary to a priest."

"To more than one," Nathaniel agreed. "I expect that Monsieur Contrecoeur here ain't just passing through on a whim. Came to read the last rites, is what I'd guess."

A shoulder lifted in agreement. "I had that honor when I arrived, yes."

Elizabeth was surprised, he could feel it in the way she looked at Contrecoeur.

"He's a priest all right, Boots. Ask him to take off his gloves."

"That's no' necessary," said the earl.

"But I don't mind," said Contrecoeur. He pulled off the gloves to show them strong hands, broad of palm and long fingered. Where his thumbs had once been two twists of flesh were tucked into masses of silver-white scar tissue.

Elizabeth let out a soft gasp.

"That's what I thought," Nathaniel said. "The Huron liked to take the missionaries' thumbs off with clam shells. There was one sachem who wore Jesuit thumbs and ears on a string around his neck."

Contrecoeur flexed his fingers. "His name was Calling-Crow. I knew him well."

Nathaniel said, "What else did they do to you?"

For the first time a shadow crossed Contrecoeur's handsome face.

"I left with my soul intact. More I could not ask."

"The Jesuits are no more," Elizabeth said, more to herself than the table. "The pope suppressed the order some years ago, and all Jesuits were banished from England and Scotland."

Moncrieff grunted. "The Scots were ever a loyal folk."

"That is true." Contrecoeur nodded. "Not all of our friends abandoned us. There are those who took it upon themselves to provide the Society of Jesus with a home, and safe shelter--at great risk to themselves. Much as the earl has done."

"And Catherine of Russia." Elizabeth's expression was growing darker by the moment. "I understand now why it is that you want to take Mademoiselle LeBrun to her mother."

Contrecoeur looked more surprised than pleased that Elizabeth had made this connection. "You are very quick, madame."

"Am I indeed?" Elizabeth said sharply. "I assume you travel in disguise where you are not welcome."

"The society has always been active in trade," he said. "Those of us who remain true to it carry on as merchants where we cannot live openly as priests."

Elizabeth touched the square of brown material that still sat in the middle of the table. "Do you wear one of these too, my lord Earl?"

"Aye," Carryck said gruffly. "I am Catholic. I wear the scapular as my faither wore it, and his faither and grandfaither afore him."

"That little scrap of cloth can't be all that's at the bottom of this," Nathaniel said.

Elizabeth touched his sleeve. "You are right, Nathaniel. It is more complex. Things might get very complicated for the earl if his loyalty to the Church of Rome became public knowledge. If I remember correctly, the restrictions on Catholics and the penalties for evading them are unbelievably severe. And there has been great resistance to any Bill of Relief--riots, and the like."

"A Bill o' Relief was signed last April," said Carryck, his calm leaving him suddenly.