She was looking at him now, holding the newspaper out toward him. He would have blushed, if he had been capable of it. The newspaper had been Julian's idea. Together they had gone to Albany, and set it all in motion. Although he didn't like it, not at all. If the Bonners had the Tory Gold, then that fortune was in the family, in a manner of speaking—and he had no intention of handing it over to the state. In that case, Elizabeth had made a decent match: a man with some money who would look after the land. Not that he could say so out loud: the men in this room had a fear of the Mohawk that would outweigh any loyalty they felt toward him. And there was Julian, who resented everything Elizabeth had, but the mountain most of all.

His children's voices moved back and forth: the delicate, deadly thrusts of foils rather than the more blunt no—nonsense of the war club. The judge had been too long in this country to remember the rules of engagement, but his children had learned them well in his sister's household. Oh, yes. The men in the room, most of whom had fought more than one bloody war, watched in horror and amazement at what damage could be done without knives or firearms. He listened to the cloaked parry and thrust, and his head ached. The judge wished to be home again where Curiosity would fix him a hot toddy and he could contemplate his folly in privacy. He had been foolish, in his anger and hurt pride. He had let Julian set this plan in motion, even though Curiosity had given him that look, the one that said that he was moving too fast and would regret it. You set on stirrin' up a wasps' nest, best know you got some safe place to run, first. The judge looked at the faces in the room and he knew he should have listened to her. Generally, life would be much simpler if he would just let Curiosity make his decisions. It was Curiosity who told him to keep out of Todd's investment schemes to start with. She had said straight—out that Richard Todd would be more trouble than he was worth.

The door opened and Kitty Witherspoon came in with Nathaniel right behind, proving Curiosity right once again.

* * *

There was a transformation in Kitty; Nathaniel watched it happen as she stepped over the threshold. Her narrow back straightened and her head held high, she walked right up to Elizabeth.

"I want to know what you've done to Richard."

The room was close and full of people, and the mood generated more heat. Both women's faces were pear led with sweat.

"Who told you we've done anything at all to Richard Todd?" Elizabeth asked calmly. Nathaniel sought out her eye, but she was focused on Kitty.

"Richard went into the bush to serve you with a bench warrant more than three months ago," she said. "He expected to be back in a month. He promised me that he would be."

Elizabeth put her hand on the younger girl's arm. "Because he could not keep one promise does not mean he will not keep others."

Kitty's face drained of the little color she had had, and she shook off Elizabeth's hand with a strangled gasp. Stepping back, she came up against the counter.

"What is keeping him, then?"

For the first time, Elizabeth looked toward Nathaniel. He raised his head, and immediately the attention of the room was on him. He had few friends here, but his father was at his back, and Axel stood on the other side of the room with his rifle within reach. He flexed his hands at his sides, felt the rush of fear and anger thrumming softly in his fingertips.

"There's lots of distractions in the bush," Nathaniel said.

Julian said, "Was your rifle one of them?"

Elizabeth turned to her brother. "Julian. How good of you to come to the point, as usual. Since this issue interests everyone here, let me say this clearly. The last we saw of Richard was in Canada—"

There was a shifting in the room, a sudden increase of sound.

"He was injured, but he was recovering."

"Where?" Kitty's voice was hoarse.

Nathaniel spoke up for the first time. "Kahen'tiyo."

Kitty shook her head sharply.

"Richard would never go to Kahen'tiyo of his own accord. He must have been taken by force."

"He was carried, but not by force," Nathaniel said. "The Kahnyen’keháka saved his life."

"I don't believe you." Her voice wavered and threatened to break. "He ran away from the Mohawk and said he would never go back."

"He didn't have much choice about it, with his injuries."

The judge stepped forward, clearing his throat in an ominous way. "How did he get these injuries?" he asked, glancing between Elizabeth and Nathaniel.

"I didn't shoot him, if that's what you want to know," said Nathaniel. "Didn't knife him either, or chuck a rock at him, or push him off a cliff. I would have, you understand, because he came bearing arms against us. But he met with an accident before we could get down to business."

"Do you have any proof of this?" Julian asked.

Elizabeth said, "Robbie could have told you, but he has left for home. The people at Kahen'tiyo could tell you what we have told you.

Moses Southern called out, "Who's going to take the word of those Mohawk? Do you have any white people to speak up for you on this?"

"Robbie told me the story," said Axel. "just like they're telling it here."

Moses waved Axel's evidence away with one thick hand. "But you didn't see him yourself Metzler. MacLachlan could've been wrong."

"Richard will find his way home soon enough," Nathaniel said. "I guess you'll have to settle for his word on it, if he's white enough for you, Moses."