"He does not respond well to failure, my lord," said Beth.
"No, he does not," said the earl, looking sadly after the retreating figure of his offspring. "Although one would think he would be accustomed to it by now, if his performance at the gaming tables is anything to go by. Well," he said, remembering himself, smiling and holding out his hand to Duncan, who accepted it and shook it. "I am sure you will not welcome my intruding any further into your day. I will take my leave of you both. Your servant, Mr MacDonald, Lady Elizabeth."
They watched him as he walked away, his erect, immaculately tailored figure attracting the attention of more than one lady as he passed.
"I really like him," said Beth. "Although I've never told him my mother was a MacDonald. I suppose Alex told him. He said they were good friends."
"Aye, he seems a fine man. Pity his son's such a wee gomerel. And he's the man ye nearly married, in place of Alex? Had you lost your senses entirely, lassie?"
"Yes, probably, but there are mitigating circumstances," Beth said. "Firstly, six months of living in the bosom of the Cunningham family would drive anyone insane. And secondly, I preferred Daniel to Sir Anthony, not Alex. There is a difference."
Duncan could not dispute that, and the newly christened Mr MacDonald and his kinswoman were smiling again as they walked down the hill to join Alex and Angus, who had both re-emerged onto Castle Hill Street carrying a small parcel.
Beth opened the one Alex had been carrying, which was intended for her, on the way to their lodgings.
"Oh, it's beautiful!" she said, taking out a delicately wrought silver bracelet, set with amethysts. She let him place it round her wrist, and held her hand up to admire it, putting the unpleasant scene of a few minutes ago from her mind. She looked with curiosity at Angus, who shoved his identical parcel hastily into his pocket.
"It's for Morag," he said. "It's a wee bit different to yours. I wanted to gie her something to remember me by."
"I doubt anyone who's been in your company for more than ten minutes would ever forget you, Angus, whether you gave them a bracelet or not," she replied.
Angus decided to take this ambiguous statement as a compliment, the corners of his mouth curling upwards.
"It's a sort of betrothal present, too," he said. "Two years is an awfu' long time to wait, when you're fourteen." They had agreed to marry when Morag turned sixteen, if she still wanted to at that time.
His voice made it clear that it was an awfully long time to wait when you were twenty, too.
"She'll wait for ye, laddie, I've nae doubt. She promised she would, did she no'?" said Alex.
"Aye," confirmed Angus, brightening. "And her da's no objections, which is good."
"And we're bound to be back there in less than two years, anyway," said Beth, hopefully.
"Next summer, it seems, if Charlie has his way," said Alex. Surprisingly, he did not sound overjoyed at this thought.
"How did the meeting go?" Beth asked, brought suddenly back down to earth.
"It was interesting, but it's no' over yet," said Alex. "Broughton and Lochiel are coming to our lodgings to clarify a few details."
"I'm thinking we need to be changing our clothes as well," Duncan said. "We're attracting too much attention as we are."
"Aye, you're right," said Alex. "And speaking of clothes, tomorrow morning I've an appointment wi' my tailor." He grimaced and looked at Beth. "And you've an appointment wi' a dressmaker."
Now it was Beth's turn to grimace.
"I'm sorry," said Alex sincerely. "But the holiday's over. Sir Anthony is needed in London, as soon as possible."
* * *
Sir Anthony Peters sat on one side of the hearth in the drawing room of his London house, resplendent in emerald green velvet breeches and frockcoat, set off by a buttercup yellow brocade waistcoat. His wig was curled and powdered, his heavy makeup expertly applied. His expression would have curdled milk.
His wife, wearing a similar expression, sat opposite him, clad in turquoise velvet, stays tightly laced, her hair swept up and secured with enamelled pins. Aquamarines sparkled in her ears and at her throat. The unhappy couple sat in silence for a time, staring moodily into the fire and thinking of the meeting in Edinburgh that had necessitated their immediate return to London without spending a week or two in Manchester on the way south as Beth had hoped they would.
They had met John Murray of Broughton at their Edinburgh lodgings, after the unfortunate episode with Lord Daniel. Dressed in brown frockcoat and breeches, he had looked quite different from the Highlander Beth remembered in Rome; smaller and slighter somehow, his fair hair hidden under a powdered wig. Donald Cameron of Lochiel, chief of Clan Cameron had turned up a few minutes later, also dressed in the sober garb of the lowlander rather than the Highland attire he preferred, although he wore his own thick light brown hair brushed ruthlessly back from his face and tied with a dark ribbon. He was a handsome man in his early forties, tall and athletically built, and his warm greeting of the MacGregors had endeared him to Beth immediately. The brandy having been poured, the men had got down to business straight away. Alex had given a brief resumé of the morning's proceedings for Duncan and Beth's benefit.
"John tellt us this morning that he had several meetings with Prince Charles in the Tuileries in spite of Balhaldy's trying to prevent it, and it seems that Balhaldy has been less than honest with the prince, exaggerating the level of support he could expect from his British supporters. He was under the impression that he could expect at least twenty thousand Scots to rise for him. He had no idea that Balhaldy has been keeping us in the dark about developments."
"I told the prince that the best he could expect from Scotland would be four thousand men if he came without a considerable body of French troops, as many of the clans have made French support a condition of them rising," Murray continued. "I doubt the Frasers will come out otherwise, and the MacLeods will be very reluctant too."
"MacLeod's no' the only one who'll be reluctant. So will I. It canna be done without French help, it's as simple as that," said Lochiel firmly, his handsome face grim. "The Campbells are an enormous clan, and wi' most of them on the government side, we need the support of the big northern clans, and we'll no' get it if the prince doesna have Louis' backing."
"What did the prince say to that?" asked Duncan.
"He said he would try to raise a body of French troops, but that he was determined to come to Scotland next summer, even if he had to come with a single footman," said Murray. "He's verra impatient, and frustrated at the aborted invasion. He's been dealt badly wi' by Louis too, which doesna help."
Beth groaned, and the men all looked at her.
"I've met the prince, you remember," she said by way of explanation. "He'll do it, won't he?"
"Aye, I've no doubt he will," said Broughton. "Unless we can persuade him otherwise. Which is why we're all here now." He paused to take a sip of his brandy. "Before I left France the prince gave me a letter for the Earl of Traquair, ordering him to go immediately to England, find out the state of affairs there and get some definite commitment from the English Jacobites. Traquair has refused to go."
"What?" said Duncan, amazed. "He's refused a direct order from Prince Charles?"
"He didna say no outright, but he's suddenly a verra busy man, and he did go so far as to say he was surprised the prince should think he had nothing better to do than run his errands."
There was a general gasp from the group at the thought that anyone who claimed loyalty to the Stuart cause could say such a thing.
"I can understand him," continued Broughton. "He's a friend of Balhaldy's. Balhaldy seems to want a rising at any price, and he's so desperate to keep the prince's favour that he'll tell him whatever he wants to hear, true or no. If Traquair goes to England and finds out that they willna rise without a French army behind them, as I suspect he will, it puts him in an awkward position. Either he betrays his prince by lying to him and telling him the English will join him without condition, or he betrays his friend by telling Charles the truth. So he's prevaricating."
"That's why Sir Anthony needs to return to London immediately," said Alex. "So that I can do what Traquair should be doing, and try to get a definite commitment from the English."
Beth glanced from Alex to Murray, who intercepted her look and smiled at her.
"Aye," he said. "Alex has told me about Sir Anthony. It's quite amazing. I never would have recognised him. I've revised my opinion of the baronet considerably from the last time we met. Dinna fret, Lady Elizabeth, the secret's safe with me."