Their eyes met across the table of gold and silver—
“Ulrica—what made you stay?”
Her eyes widened.
“It never crossed my mind to go. Whatever they say—my place is not among your enemies.”
A little pause, then he said in a labored way: “Ulrica—I am innocent of what they impute to me—there was no massacre in Glencoe.”
“I thought so,” she answered quietly. “My lord, I thought so.”
Her hood had slipped back from her smooth hair and her sweet face was pure and pale in the rich light.
“Have you saved anything?” she asked.
Lord Stair pointed to the kitten at his feet with a half-smile.
“That,” he said, “and this—”