no fondness for the local brews,” Major Lambert said, condescendingly. “But my palate would appreciate a glass of wine, my lady.”
Norval had come in to set the table with pewter dishes. Anne turned to him and brightly said, “Norval, please bring out a bottle of wine.”
“Wine, my lady?” he asked, confused.
“I’ll get it, Norval,” Aidan answered. “I need to bring it up from the wine cellar.” There was a touch of irony in his words because Anne had not found any such place and doubted it existed. But she assumed there must be wine somewhere, and she was right.
A moment later, Aidan returned with a very dusty bottle of red wine and two glasses. At the same time, a group of soldiers marched past the window on their way to the sea path. It chilled Anne to have them climbing all over the estate. She prayed Deacon was wise enough to avoid them.
Having sensed her distress, her husband pressed a glass in her hand. “Drink.”
She lifted her gaze to his. “Thank you.”
His fingers brushed hers and he leaned forward. “Courage,” he whispered in her ear.
“What did you say?” Major Lambert asked.
Aidan picked up the other glass and offered it to their unwanted guest. “I was reminding my wife of her unconventional jewelry.”
Only then did Anne remember she still wore her seaweed necklace. With a sound of distress, she set down her glass and pulled it off. “You must think me silly,” she told Major Lambert. “I was playing with the crofter children on the beach.”
“I thought it was a touch unconventional,” he admitted.
“My wife is unconventional,” Aidan said, a trace of pride in his voice.
“And lovely,” the major added. “I would not have thought you so fortunate, Lord Tiebauld.” He raised his glass in Anne’s direction as a toast.
“Yes,” Aidan agreed, but a tightness had appeared at the corners of his mouth.
Flustered by the unexpected praise, Anne asked, “Are you married, Major?” She picked up her glass and took an unusually large swallow, needing the fortification.
“No, he’s waiting for a rich wife,” Aidan answered. He sat down at his place at the table. Through the windows past his shoulders, the soldiers trudged up the path—empty-handed.
“I do not have the luxury of your money, Tiebauld,” the major said baldly.
“Or a title.” Aidan couldn’t seem to resist another dig. He smiled at Anne. “Major Lambert hopes to earn a knighthood by marching a horde of Scottish traitors to London. Even if he must fabricate them.”
The soldier’s hand tightened on his glass. “I don’t have to create Jacobites in Scotland. Nor do I believe traitors should be allowed to keep titles.”
Aidan wagged a finger at him. “Ah, those decisions were made long ago. They are out of our hands. And it was my great-grandfather, Lambie, not me who was the traitor. Don’t confuse us.”
“I won’t—if you are innocent.”
Aidan came to his feet in challenge.
Anne hurried up to him, saying, “It is almost time for luncheon. Perhaps we had best change the subject.”
To her relief, Norval and Cora walked in, ready to serve. “Shall we sit?” She moved toward her place at the table. Major Lambert reached to pull out her chair, but her husband suddenly cut in and beat the officer to it.
Anne sighed. If she had anticipated this petty rivalry she would have let the soldiers carry Aidan off in chains! Instead, she was forced to play her role to the hilt, batting her eyelashes and recounting every party she’d ever attended in London, mentioning the name of every person she’d ever met.
Major Lambert hung on her every word. Aidan was right. He was an ambitious man whose father, she learned, was a solicitor and unable to further his plight in political circles. “But I have plans,” he assured Anne. His gaze drifted toward her husband.
At last, one of the major’s soldiers appeared to report they’d finished their search.
“Did you find anything?” the major asked, rising.
“No, sir. No evidence of Deacon Gunn or other traitorous activities.”
Since they hadn’t recognized Deacon when he’d been standing right in front of them, Anne was not surprised. She didn’t dare look at Aidan.
Major Lambert turned to her, clicking his heels as he bowed in the Prussian method. “I thank you for your hospitality and conversation, my lady. You are a far more gracious and lovely woman than Tiebauld deserves.”
She had to laugh. “I may agree with you, Major Lambert.” She walked him to the alcove. Aidan stayed behind. She was conscious of his gaze on her