A half hour later they paid for a room at the Black Bull with coin, and a maid showed them to their room.

"Sixty pounds," Elizabeth said, dropping the purse onto the bed. "It is more than I imagined we might get. You must have truly frightened him, Nathaniel."

"I don't know about that." He went to the window as he loosened the dressings on his jaw.

"But why else would he have given us so much, with so little bartering?" Elizabeth unbuttoned her bodice for Daniel, who was chattering impatiently and thumping at her with a small fist. She stilled suddenly, and looked up.

"Unless--"

"He plans on getting it back again," Nathaniel finished for her.

"Lovely," Elizabeth said grimly. "Just what we needed. A larcenous Italian after us as well as the Campbells and the Carrycks."

"Never mind, Boots. We'll be on the mailcoach by four, and he won't think to come looking for us before dark. In the meantime we'll just set tight right here."

Elizabeth considered. They had been up well before dawn to walk hard over unfamiliar territory for more than an hour. There had been no chance to sleep on the mailcoach--Mrs. Rae and Daniel both had conspired against that--and she was very tired. She could do as Nathaniel suggested, and sleep here until it was time to go back to Carryckcastle and claim the rest of their family before they started out for home. That was exactly what she should do.

Daniel's steady suckling was the only sound in the room. Nathaniel was still at the window with his back turned to her, watching the lane below. He said, "Spit it out, Boots, before it chokes you."

"If Lady Isabel is here, I think I should try to talk to her," Elizabeth said. "If I do not, I shall always wonder--"

"If you could have solved Carryck's problems for him. Christ above, you are worse than any missionary I ever ran into. Do you realize what kind of trouble you're headed forwith this?"

This stung. Elizabeth bent her head over Daniel to hide her burning face and to get hold of her temper. She heard Nathaniel crossing the room, and then his weight pressed down on the edge of the bed.

"I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."

"No, you should not have."

"You're nothing like a missionary."

"I should hope not."

He shot her a sidelong glance. "Maybe she ain't even here. And if she is, how would you find out without setting the Campbells on our tails? I don't suppose they'd mind putting another bullet in me, and one in you, too, if they had the chance."

Elizabeth met his gaze. "I am very capable of finding out what I want to know without providing any useful information in return. Leave that to me."

A flicker of a grin passed over his face. "That's fine with me, Boots. I'll sit back and watch."

They put Daniel down for his nap and then Nathaniel watched with equal parts amusement and disquiet as Elizabeth spun her web. First she rang for the maid, a slow young woman who took her time getting to them to bob a halfhearted curtsy. In a cool and superior tone Nathaniel hardly recognized, Elizabeth ordered a meal that would have fed them for days: white soup, a fricando of veal, vegetable pudding, a basket of breads, raspberry syllabub, coffee, and an expensive bottle of claret. The maid, suddenly much more awake, ran off to the kitchens with a new flush in her cheeks.

"You mean to spend the whole sixty pounds before we ever get out of town, or did walking just give you a big appetite?"

"No," Elizabeth said calmly. "I am hardly hungry at all, but I shall eat nonetheless." And she had nothing more to say to him, because a serving man had appeared with linen to set the table for their meal.

In the next hour Nathaniel learned things about his wife that he had not guessed, or maybe never let himself think about. This was not the Elizabeth he knew, the woman who had set herself so resolutely to the task of learning how to skin game and cure deerhides, who climbed trees and swam in mountain lakes. This was Elizabeth Middleton of Oakmere, Lady Crofton's niece, raised to believe that servants had no names worth remembering, a lady who did not even think to pick up her own napkin to put it in her lap. It was surprising to watch her send back the sauce for the veal as unfit to eat, and disturbing to see her point to her glass to have it filled without ever looking in the serving maid's direction. And all the time she talked to him in a voice and manner that he knew not at all, and liked even less, of assemblies and dance parties and intrigues at court.

It was when the syllabub was before them that Elizabeth's plan was finally clear to him.

"It is too bad Uncle does not care to go so far as Galston," she said in a vaguely distressed way. "The countess asked me so pointedly to call on her, after all. I suppose it cannot be helped, although I do so hate to disappoint. You know Mama is hoping that our Roderick will take an interest in her. It would be a fine thing to see our families thus joined."

From the corner of his eye, Nathaniel saw something flicker across the serving maid's face.

Elizabeth carried on with a sigh: "I would give a great deal to see dear Flora. I am very disappointed, indeed."

The serving maid made a low sound in her throat, not quite a cough. Elizabeth raised her brow in the young woman's direction. "Yes?"

A deep curtsy. "Beggin' yer pardon, mem, I dinnae care tae intrude ..." She paused, and when Elizabeth did not stop her, she continued in a rush.

"If it's the Countess o' Loudoun ye're speakin' aboot--I thoucht it must be, hearin' ye talk o' Galston--pardon me for bein' sae forward, mem, but did ye nae ken that the lady is come tae Moffat tae take the waters?"