She knew that Colonel Hooke did think her so, though she was not convinced of Mr Moray. His grey eyes were wont to watch her with a quiet concentration that did not appear to waver from its purpose, although what that purpose might have been, Sophia could not say. She only guessed that he saw much, and was not easily deceived. But in that instance, and if he was as intelligent a man as she believed, he also would have seen her feelings were in sympathy with theirs, and that they need have no worry that she would betray them. Whatever Mr Moray’s knowledge, he did nothing, for his part, to raise the question of her being trusted in their company.
And so the first days passed, and brought the visitors, with names belonging to the greater families of the north—the Laird of Boyne, and later, Lord Saltoun, the chief of one branch of the house of Fraser. And behind them all came the Lord High Constable himself, the Earl of Erroll.
Sophia thought him more impressive than his portrait; young, but careful with his actions and his words, and with his mother’s independent mind. There was around the man a certain energy, as of a banked-up fire that might, at any moment, flare to life.
He made a vital contrast to poor Colonel Hooke, whose health, since his arrival at the castle, had continued to be troublesome.
The Earl of Erroll, noticing, remarked upon this, and the colonel answered him, ‘I fear that I am still much out of order with my voyage. Indeed, I have been indisposed since we did leave Versailles.’
Which was the first time that the French king’s court had been so openly referred to, and Colonel Hooke, as though just realizing his carelessness, glanced quickly at Sophia, as did everybody else. Except the Earl of Erroll. He simply carried on to ask, ‘And I do trust that you left both their majesties, the King of France, and our King James, in all good health and spirits?’
There was silence for an instant, then the countess warned him, ‘Charles…’
‘What, Mother?’ Shrugging off his cloak, he turned his gaze toward Sophia, as the others had, his own expression showing no concern. ‘She is a member of our family, is she not?’
The countess said, ‘Of course, but—’
‘Well, then I would warrant she has wit enough to know the way things are with us. She does not look a fool. Are you a fool?’ he asked Sophia.
She did not know how to answer with so many eyes upon her, but she raised her chin a little and quite bravely shook her head.
‘And have you formed your own opinion as to why these gentlemen have come to Slains?’
Although she faced the Earl of Erroll, it was not the earl’s regard she felt just then, but that of Mr Moray, whose unyielding gaze would brook no falsehood, so she said, ‘It is my understanding that they have come here from France to treat among the Jacobites, my Lord.’
The young earl smiled, as though her honesty had pleased him. ‘There, you see?’ he told the others. Then, returning to Sophia, asked, ‘And would you then discover us to agents of Queen Anne?’
He was but baiting her, in jest. He knew the answer, but she told him very clearly, ‘I would not.’
‘I did not think so.’ And the matter, from his tone, was settled. ‘I do therefore feel at ease to speak my mind in this young lady’s presence. As should all of you.’
If Colonel Hooke looked doubting, it was balanced, thought Sophia, by the faint smile of approval on the face of Mr Moray. Why it mattered to her so, that he approved, she did not seek to know, but turned her eyes and ears instead to Colonel Hooke, who had at last relented and was answering the earl as to the health of those whom he had last seen at the exiled Stewart court of Saint-Germain, in France.
‘I am encouraged,’ was the earl’s reply, ‘to hear that young King James is well. This country sorely needs him.’
Hooke nodded. ‘So he is aware. He is now more convinced than ever that the time has come for Scotland to arise.’
‘He was convinced of that, as I recall, two years ago, when we first started this adventure.’ With a patient look, the earl went on, ‘But it may be as well that he did hesitate, for he will find that there are many more who are now full prepared to stand for him, convinced that, at the worst, they will gain more with sword in hand than they are offered by this union with the English.’
‘Is it true that the Presbyterians in the west might seek to join our cause?’
‘I have heard whisperings to that effect. The Presbyterians were angered by the Union, and indeed, being among the best armed and the least divided forces in this country, they did intend to make their anger plain by marching upon Edinburgh, there to disperse the parliament.’
Mr Moray, who’d kept to the background until now, could not contain himself on hearing this. ‘But surely, had they done so, that would then have stopped the Union taking place?’
‘Aye, almost certainly. Especially,’ the earl said, ‘since no fewer than four nobles from the shires of Angus and of Perth proposed to do the same.’
‘Christ’s blood,’ swore Mr Moray. ‘Why then did they not?’
A quick glance passed between the young earl and his mother before he replied, ‘They were dissuaded, by a man they did esteem.’
‘What man?’
‘His Grace the Duke of Hamilton.’
There was a swift response from Colonel Hooke. ‘I’ll not believe it.’
‘Know it to be true,’ the earl assured him. ‘And know too that your friend the duke, who for these two months past has testified to such impatience that you should arrive, has changed his tone now that you are on Scottish ground. He says to all who care to listen that you come too late, and that the king no longer thinks about this nation, and we cannot hope for his return.’