"Perhaps now ye'll understand," she said softly. "It's my fault that Simon died. If I die unshriven, I'll burn for aa eternity. And now I'll take the laudanum, if ye'd be sae kind."

She slept so deeply that they might have talked, but Elizabeth had drawn deep inside herself and Nathaniel knew that there would be no comfort for her now; no words would wash away those pictures Isabel had drawn for them. It would take blood to do that.

There were reasons enough to kill Angus Moncrieff: weeks spent in the Montréal gaol, Hawkeye and Robbie lost, sailors drowned, children stolen, the new tremble in Curiosity's hands, Elizabeth convulsed in agony, her eyes blank with fear. Reason enough, but he might have walked away and left the man standing, until today. Now when Angus Moncrieff died it would be for all those things, but most of all it would be for Isabel Scott Campbell, once of Carryckcastle. My cousin. Nathaniel thought it to himself for the first time, and knew that it was so. And it would be for Simon Hope.

No matter how he went back over the stories they had heard about Simon from Jennet and Isabel, it just didn't add up. That a boy as strong as Simon was said to be taking a fever in a summer rain and dying of it four weeks later made no sense. On the other hand, Simon had been the only witness when Moncrieff raped the laird's daughter, and that put him in a situation more dangerous than a summer cold.

Elizabeth put Daniel to the breast, leaning against Nathaniel for support. He put his arm around her and when his wife and son had fallen asleep he stayed awake to keep watch, his free hand on the butt of his pistol, his thumb moving slowly back and forth over the polished wooden stock.

They were traveling alongside the Moffat Water, no more than an hour away from Carryckcastle, when a sharp high whistle followed by rough shouting caused the horses to break their stride. The driver bellowed oaths as the coach jerked to a halt.

Nathaniel held Elizabeth steady with one arm while he leaned forward to stop Isabel from rolling off the makeshift bed. The laudanum had done its work and she hardly stirred, but Elizabeth came awake immediately as did the boy, stretching and fussing in her arms.

"What is it?" She clutched Daniel to her and he cried louder. "Nathaniel? Are we being attacked?"

"Highwaymen, it looks like," he said, trying to get a look at the horsemen who had come up on the coach without making a target of himself.

"Highwaymen in broad daylight?" Elizabeth was angry enough to march out there and confront them--he had seen her do things like that before--so Nathaniel got hold of her.

"Easy," he said. "Let me take care of this." He drew his pistol.

"Walter Campbell!" called a man's voice, harsh and imperious. "Show yourself!"

Elizabeth's head snapped sharply in that direction. "Highwaymen, indeed," she said, incensed and relieved all at once. "Do you not recognize Will Spencer's voice? What can this mean?"

Nathaniel threw open the door with a grin. "It means the Campbells were dead wrong to think they had us fooled."

Elizabeth was still struggling with her open bodice when Nathaniel stepped out of the coach, but she heard the reunion well enough. A moment of silence and then voices raised, all of them talking at once, and through it all Robbie's roar, so loud that the horses reared and the coach jerked again. "Christ save me, Nathaniel!"

Isabel stirred slowly. Her face contorted, confusion and pain both. Elizabeth's surprise and elation at this unexpected reunion was replaced by concern for her.

"What is it?"

Elizabeth put a hand to her brow--her fever was high again, and her hair damp with perspiration. There was a jug of water, and she quickly poured some, her hands trembling so terribly that she almost dropped both jug and cup. Daniel fussed on the bench, furious at being abandoned.

"Drink this," she said. "And sleep. There is nothing to fear, it is just my father-in-law, come to intercept us."

Isabel struggled up, turning toward the men's voices. Then she closed her eyes and laid her head back again. "Waiting on the road to Edinburgh. Breadalbane underestimated them." And then: "How much farther?"

"Perhaps an hour," said Elizabeth. "We will not delay."

"Elizabeth?" Nathaniel calling for her.

Isabel put a hand on Elizabeth's wrist.

"Did Flora tell ye aboot the passage Walter is arrangin' for you?"

"Yes."

"Aye, I thoucht she wad tell ye. She has a guid heart," said Isabel. "When the time comes, will ye send word tae her, and tell her ... tell her tae be strong. Will ye do that?"

Elizabeth nodded. "I will."

Elizabeth delivered Daniel--still howling his indignation--into his grandfather's arms. Eyes pooling with tears, the boy blinked, sniffed, and then smiled broadly.

"Ain't you a sight for sore eyes." Hawkeye lifted him up at arm's length and the two of them studied each other intently.

Hawkeye was sun-browned and leaner, but the serene self-assuredness that was his hallmark was still there. When he put his hand on her shoulder some of that quiet energy seemed to flow into Elizabeth, and for a moment her knees went soft with gratitude and elation and simple comfort to have these men near again.

She patted Robbie's arm compulsively and he patted her back, blushing and smiling in his pleasure.

"Mrs. Bonner!" The driver called to her. He held his whip raised over the horses and a desperate expression on his face, ready to bolt.