Carryck's eyes scanned their faces, and came to rest on Nathaniel, calculating how he had come to be there, weighing his options. "I see ye've been awa'," he said dryly.

"I have," Nathaniel agreed. "Away and back again, to claim what is mine."

"Ye're mair Scott than ye'll ever ken," said Carryck. And then to Hawkeye: "Aa o' yer party are welcome. I will hear your complaints against my factor, and should punishment be warranted, punishment will be dispensed."

The sound of the carriage was louder now. The men behind Carryck began to look at each other, touching their weapons in that way that soldiers have, as automatically as they breathed.

One approached Carryck, and he spoke to them all. "Leave me."

They went unwillingly, murmuring among themselves. Now Nathaniel caught sight of Jean Hope and old MacQuiddy at the rear of the courtyard and in the window above them, Curiosity with Lily on her hip. Robbie had dismounted, and he crouched down next to Hannah, the two of them deep in conversation.

Later Nathaniel would tell Elizabeth that he had heard the story of Lot's wife more than once, but it wasn't until Carryck caught sight of the Loudoun coat of arms on the coach that he knew what it meant to see a living being turn to stone. His face went as glassy smooth as rock salt, and when he looked up at Hawkeye his eyes were dead.

"My daughter-in-law," Hawkeye said. "And your daughter, come home to die. But first she has her own charges against Moncrieff."

Jean Hope came forward, her hands pressed to her heart and on her face an expression Nathaniel had seen once before, the morning Sarah had gained a daughter and lost a son: a woman torn in half between joy and sorrow. He spoke to her gently.

"She's asked for the priest. Will you take her to him?"

This unexpected appearance of his daughter had turned Carryck to stone, but all the bones seemed to flow out of Jean Hope, her body curving forward. She started toward the coach and then stopped, looked to Carryck for something, some sign, but got none.

Robbie went to the coach as the door opened. Ever since he had heard the story of Moncrieff's crimes against Carryck's daughter he had been unusually still and closed within himself; it was as if this final evidence of Moncrieff's malice had broken some last faith in him, and now he took it on as his own duty to offer Lady Isabel whatever comfort he could.

When he turned around again, he held her in his arms as carefully and lovingly as he would hold an infant. She had lost a shoe and one small foot swung free in its white stocking, as fine and frail as a child's. Her hands lay among the netting that covered her face and fell down to her waist, discolored and swollen as a man's fists after a hard fight.

For a moment Robbie stood there looking at Carryck over Isabel's still form--Nathaniel could not even be sure she was breathing--and then he walked past the man without a word.

He stopped before Jean Hope and she placed her hands on Isabel, touching her lightly here and there. And then she turned and led Robbie toward Elphinstone Tower. MacQuiddy fell in behind them, and from a shadowy corner Jennet came running, too, with one backward glance toward Carryck.

They gathered in the Great Hall: the earl at the head of a long table under the carved and gilded coat of arms, Nathaniel and Hawkeye to either side of him, and next to them Elizabeth and Curiosity, each with a baby in her lap. Will sat beside Elizabeth. Hannah would not stay in her chair, but flitted between the men as if she was afraid they might disappear again if she were to sit down or look away.

Hawkeye asked her a question in Mahican and she answered it in Kahnyen'kehâka, and asked him a question in turn. Nathaniel was listening too but he did not interrupt, and Elizabeth had the sense that he had heard what he needed to know on the journey here. From the look on Robbie's face when he had taken Isabel in his arms, Nathaniel had told them her story, too.

Carryck poured whisky. Whatever he had wanted to say to Hawkeye, whatever arguments about family and duty and blood ties and the land--all seemed to have deserted him. He stared in turn at the door that led to Elphinstone Tower and the window into the courtyard.

Elizabeth rocked Lily to her, smoothing the skin of her face and thinking of Isabel who was someplace over their heads in the tower, seeking some consolation, some of the sense of herself that she had lost the night she ran away from this place. In the last few minutes of the journey she had had another crisis, this one much worse than the earlier one in the garden. It had come upon her there where the road to the castle turned suddenly and dipped around a great outcropping of stones. Will had spoken gentle words to her even in her extremity, and Elizabeth had sent her own prayers to whatever God was looking over Isabel. Give her just one more hour. Let her face Moncrieff and go easy to her grave.

Contrecoeur came in, his expression unreadable. He walked the length of the hall, his heels ticking against the flagstones like an overwound clock, to stop before Carryck.

"Dupuis has heard her confession and absolved her of her sins, but it took the last of his strength. She is asking for you, my lord Earl. The doctor says she is very close to death."

All faces turned to Carryck, but he studied the bottom of his cup with unflinching concentration. Curiosity hummed low in her throat, a mournful sound.

It wasn't until the horses came into the courtyard that Carryck raised his head. Contrecoeur still waited for his answer, but he looked past the priest as if he were invisible.

Moncrieff's voice came to them, hoarse and angry, and then louder, an oath and a challenge to the armed men who had brought him. There was a scuffling as he was dragged down from his horse. Elizabeth's heart raced and Lily, nursing greedily as if to make up for the hours away from her mother, coughed on the quickened flow of milk.