The Winter Sea (Slains, #1)(106)

She shook her head.

‘Aye, well, he’s not a lad to give himself much credit, but ’tis true. In fact, when Fraser did return to France without John it distressed the queen so greatly she said Fraser was a murderer, and did her best to see him thrown in prison. She’s a very loyal woman is Queen Mary, and she’ll not forget her favorites.’

She had not known that Moray was a favorite of the queen, and it gave her pride, but still she did not wish to be distracted from her purpose, and she would have moved to speak if Colonel Graeme had not said, ‘The queen was wrong about the murder, mind. ’Twas only that Fraser had scuttled away like a rat without sending John word of his leaving, so John was left stranded in hiding some months afore he could find a safe passage to France for himself. I’d gone earlier, else I’d have been there to help, for the business was all in the wind then and he was in danger.’

Distracted again, she looked over and echoed, ‘You’d gone earlier?’

‘Aye,’ he said, and then as if it were a well-known fact he added, ‘I was here, too, sent with Fraser as John was, by orders from Saint-Germain. Did he not tell ye his uncle came with him?’ The answer was plain on her face for he smiled and said, ‘No, he’d not say. He’s a close man with words, John. A rare one for keeping things secret.’ He looked away, toward the rolling sea, and missed the change in her expression. ‘Did he tell ye Simon Fraser was a traitor?’

‘Yes.’

‘A blow to John, that was, for he did hold the man in high regard. I had a sense of it myself when we came over. Something was not right with Fraser from the start. But John…’ He paused, and gave a shrug. ‘Well, John was younger then and counted Fraser as his friend. He found it very hard.’

Sophia said, ‘All men, I think, would be surprised at such betrayal by a friend.’

He caught her tone and turned again as if to question it. ‘Ye did not bring me all this way to speak of Fraser, lass. What’s on your mind?’

She took a breath. ‘I do suspect that Captain Ogilvie might be a spy.’

She’d feared that he might laugh, or even answer her with anger. He did neither; only asked her, ‘Why is that?’

And so she told him what she’d seen, and what she thought she’d seen—the little packet that had passed from Captain Ogilvie to Billy Wick. ‘I think that it may have been money.’

‘Lass.’ He gave her an indulgent sideways look.

‘The gardener is an evil-minded man, and not well thought of by the other servants. He is not a man to trust. I could not think of any reason Captain Ogilvie might speak with him, except to gain some knowledge of the house and its affairs.’ She kept her eyes upon the sand and said, ‘I hope I’ll not offend you, Colonel Graeme, if I say I find you much like Mr Moray, and I would not wish to see you suffer as he suffered at the hands of someone who does not deserve your friendship.’

There was no sound for a moment but the breaking of the waves against the frozen shore. And then the colonel asked her, ‘Do ye worry for my welfare, lass?’

He sounded quite as moved by that as Moray had when he had made a similar discovery, all those months ago. That moment too, Sophia thought, had happened here, on this same beach, but then the blowing wind had been a warmer one and underneath a bluer sky the sea had seemed a place of hope and promise.

‘There’s no need,’ said Colonel Graeme, kindly. ‘And ye needn’t worry about Ogilvie—he’s not like Simon Fraser, and he’s served the Stewart kings too long to turn a traitor now.’

She raised her head and saw from looking at his face that he’d dismissed her warning, but the small unquiet voice within her would not rest. ‘But even so, you will be careful?’

‘Aye, lass. For your sake, since it troubles ye so much, I will be careful.’ But he said it in the same way that a naughty child might promise to be good, and there were crinkles at the corners of his eyes that let her know he did not think the matter serious. ‘Now, was that the only thing ye had to tell me?’

From his tone she half-believed he had expected something more, but when she gave a nod he seemed to find that satisfactory.

‘Well then, let’s start back, for I’ve seen all I want of snow the day, and I can hear a dram of whisky calling from the fireside back at Slains.’

Though she was disappointed she had not convinced him about Ogilvie, she could not help but smile. ‘You go,’ she told him. ‘I would stay a while, and walk along the beach.’

He looked along the sand without enthusiasm. ‘If ye have a mind to stay, I’d best stay, too.’

‘There is no need.’ She tossed his own phrase back at him. ‘I will be safe. There was a time when I did walk here nearly every day.’

‘Oh, aye?’ He seemed to smile, though she could not be sure. ‘But ye did tell me that ye did not like the sea in winter.’

‘And you told me, if I tried, that I might come to see its virtues.’

‘So I did.’ This time the smile was unmistakable. ‘I’ll leave ye to it, then, but see ye do not stay too long out in the cold.’

She gave her promise she would not, and watched him walk away along the sand, his shoulders set so much like Moray’s that the likeness caught a little at her heart and made her pull her gaze away, then look again with misting eyes. She was half-glad when she was left alone.