Will assumed a nonchalant stance while waiting for Captain Ellis to reply, but he was very aware of the comforting weight of the dagger he’d slid into his pocket.

“I haven’t quite made up my mind.” Captain Ellis looked Will up and down. “Or decided what you are supposed to be.”

“A fatuous beau.” Will made a bow, extending his leg, while at the same time carefully watching Ellis’s hands. “Mal would also be annoyed with me if I killed you. He is fond of you.”

Ellis’s dark brows lifted. “Is he?”

“You let him run away with Mary instead of capturing him and dragging him off to be executed,” Will said. “Gave him a soft spot for you.”

“They were married,” Ellis said stiffly. “By a vicar, whether I liked it or not. I had no grounds for standing in their way.”

“Ah, but Mal had been declared dead, so Mary was officially a widow.”

Ellis took a step toward Will. He had not changed much in the year since Will had seen him—his hair was deep brown without a thread of gray, his dark blue eyes hard as steel, his face set in quiet determination.

Captain Ellis brooked no fools, and he’d proved himself intelligent, well mannered, and fair-minded. Though he’d stayed at Kilmorgan as the Mackenzies’ prisoner, Will’s brothers and father had begun to consider him a friend.

“Is Lady Mary happy?” he asked. “If she is not, then I will find Malcolm and cut out his heart.”

Will did not doubt it. Ellis would have to go through Will, Alec, and their father to get to Mal, but he was the sort who would die trying.

“She is,” Will answered. “I give you my word on that. She and Mal are madly in love, and faring well in a comfortable house in Paris. She bore him a bairn not long ago. They call him Angus.”

Captain Ellis flinched and looked away. “After your brother,” he said. Angus Mackenzie, Alec’s twin, had been killed in a skirmish in Scotland during the Uprising.

“Aye.” Will nodded. “Angus was the best of us. The mite so far is more like Mal, unfortunately. Never ceases talking, even if he can only make unintelligible noises at this point.”

Ellis smiled tightly, a man hiding his pain. “And you, madam?” He turned to Josette. “Are you well? Do not be afraid to tell me if not—I will let no harm come to you.”

“He speaks true,” Will said to Josette. “If you’d like Ellis to protect you from me, love, he will. To the death, I imagine.”

“Just so.” Captain Ellis gave Josette a bow.

Josette closed her fingers around Will’s arm, her warmth a bright spot in the chill. “You are very kind, Captain, but Will and I are old friends.”

Will shot him a grin. “Meaning she knows how to manage me.”

“I would not quite say that,” Josette returned. “But I am at his side for a reason and by my choice.”

“I would love to know those reasons.” Captain Ellis regarded Will’s frippery with blatant disapprobation. “Something underhanded, I assume.”

“Or I might be entertaining myself,” Will answered. “I’m considered a bit mad, you know.”

“Cunning, more like,” Ellis said. “Will you give me your word that you intend no harm to this lady? Or to the persons here?”

“No harm at all. If a man comes at me with a knife or pistol, I will of course take the liberty of defending myself, but I have not come to instigate violence or take my vengeance. Well, not in blood, anyway.”

Will had already learned much about the other guests—none of the gentlemen had had the courage to be part of Cumberland’s army. They were feeble sprigs of the squirearchy who’d made money on the backs of others and hid here from creditors, bookmakers, and respectable society. One of the gentlemen had been socially ruined by refusing to pay debts of honor and then nearly killing a duke’s son in a duel. The son had lived, the gentleman boasted, thus sparing him from a charge of murder.

“I am equally curious as to why you are here, Captain,” Will went on. “I can’t imagine you befriending these people.”

Ellis made a small shrug. “I have a connection through my mother to Sir Harmon’s sister’s husband. I was asked to make use of that connection and spend some time at Sir Harmon’s home.”

Meaning Captain Ellis had been sent to find out what Sir Harmon was up to out here in the wilderness. There might be a good reason why Sir Harmon was no longer in the Cabinet.

“I see,” Will said. “If I can be of any assistance …”

“I will inform you,” Ellis said firmly.

“Meaning I should stay out of your way? I, on the other hand, would welcome any help you chose to lend me.”

Captain Ellis gave him a nod. “If it comes to it.”

The fountain behind them gurgled profusely. Water abruptly spurted from the marble boys’ naked bums and streamed into the bowl. Staying in character, Will laughed and applauded, and Josette covered her mouth as though giggling. Ellis looked thoroughly repelled.

“At least I don’t have to pretend to enjoy Sir Harmon’s entertainments,” Ellis said.

“Ah, but flattery goes a long way, Captain.” Will changed his voice to the fop’s as the servant returned. “Excellent craftsmanship. Please show me more, lad.”

The footman barely hid his irritation as he turned and led Will and Josette around the next bend in the hedges. Captain Ellis, Will noted, quietly retreated.

The house party commenced with tiresome predictability, at least to Josette. No one was much for tramping or riding that evening, as they were terrified that savage Scotsmen would creep up on them and attack them.

Therefore, they remained stolidly indoors. The guests played cards for ruinous stakes as the hours wore on, gossiping madly—Will joined in without hesitation. No one bothered with the library full of books, and Lady Bentley teased Josette when she asked to choose one to read.

The guests sat up far into the night, the men drinking brandy, the women wine or sherry. One lady snuck in nips of gin from a flask. She offered the flask to Josette, who pretended to sip, but Josette abhorred the stuff. She’d seen firsthand how gin rotted people from the inside out.

Captain Ellis seldom spoke. He played cards without much animation, and the large stakes did not seem to bother him—mostly because he won. The ladies and gentlemen were quite bad at games, Josette noted, probably why they’d run into trouble with creditors.

Around midnight, the company decided to play at riddles—they made up a silly rhyme and dared the rest to guess its meaning.

The answers were always lewd, as in “copulation” or “cock’s crowing.” Captain Ellis vanished during these proceedings, and Josette concluded he’d wisely gone to bed.

When finally the ladies and gentlemen, yawning and half asleep, decided to go upstairs, it was three in the morning. Scottish nights were short in the summer, and the sun would be up within the hour.

Will and Josette were the last. As they strolled up the square tower stairs, Lady Bentley popped out onto the second-floor landing and laid her hand on Will’s arm.

“Do let me speak to you a moment, Sir William.” She beamed Josette a sharp smile. “I promise, Lady Jacobs, I won’t keep him. Not long enough to cause a scandal, anyway.”

Will gave Josette a helpless Sir William look as Lady Bentley latched her fingers around his forearm and towed him off. Josette had no choice but to continue up on her own, pretending she thought nothing of it.

Josette warmed herself before the fire in their bedchamber and tried to still her uneasiness. She and Will were playing roles, and if it meant Will had to seduce Lady Bentley, then Josette would have to live with it, no matter how much she disliked it.

The knot in her chest urged her to run downstairs, discover where Lady Bentley had taken Will, and drag him away. Wouldn’t a jealous and besotted Anna do so? Perhaps, but then she might interrupt whatever interrogation Will had begun.

It was all Josette could do to remain in their chamber, breathing hard, and try not to speculate what they were doing.

To her intense relief, Will banged into the room not long later, a white crockery bowl in his hands.

“I am here, my chicken,” Will said, keeping to his Sir William persona. “Our lady hostess only wanted to give us a gift.”

Josette peered curiously into the bowl. It held a mound of strawberries, with cream artfully arranged in a scalloped pattern around it.

“Lovely,” Josette said. “They must have a large patch in the garden.”

“Yes, isn’t it kind of our hostess?” Will slid off his frock coat and loosened and unwound his cravat. “She noticed how I relished a strawberry.”

Josette flushed, remembering how he’d curled his tongue around the berry at dinner, and his comparison of strawberries and cream to a lady’s breasts.

“Yes, very kind of her,” she managed to say.

“I believe she wants us to enjoy all of these. And the cream.”

He stuck the tip of his finger into the bowl, swirled up a tiny blob of cream, and licked it away. Josette’s chest went tight.

Will slid his finger back into the cream, and this time held it out to Josette.

She eyed the white dollop standing up in a soft peak on his fingertip, her mouth drying. She ought to shake her head, tell him the charade was at an end for now, and go to bed, banishing him to the settee in the dressing room.

Josette swallowed hard, leaned to him, and laced her tongue around his finger.

Will’s eyes darkened as she suckled the offered cream. He bent to whisper into her ear, “Peepholes.”

Josette started, but she covered the move with a little gasp, as though he’d said something risqué. With great effort she kept herself from darting glances around the room, searching for said peepholes.

She knew that some people installed such things in their houses, perhaps to keep watch on those they did not trust, or for the purpose Will implied Lady Bentley used them for—to spy on those having connubial relations.

Oh, dear. If Josette and Will simply went to sleep, especially in separate rooms, the illusion of them being a besotted married couple would be at an end. Of course, many married couples of the upper classes did not share a bedchamber, but Lady Bentley had pointedly given them a only one chamber and only one bed.

They could pretend to have a tiff, but then both might be vulnerable to unwanted attentions from the others. Lady Bentley had already formed a great interest in Will.

However, Josette had no intention of allowing their hostess, and who knew who else, watch Will seduce her senseless.

Will’s cheekbones stained red as Josette licked his finger. “We need to give them a show,” he murmured. “Just for a little while.”

Josette fought to keep the dismay from her face. “No,” she whispered, the syllable nearly silent.

Will took her hand and kissed each of her fingertips. “They won’t see you,” he said quietly as he began to unbutton his waistcoat. “Only me.”

Josette didn’t like that any better, but now she felt another emotion—gratitude. He was protecting her.

Will dropped the silk waistcoat on top of his frock coat and cravat and untied the tape that closed his shirt at the neck.

“I’ve dismissed the servants, love,” he said as Sir William. “We’ll have to be lady’s maid and valet for each other.” Will caught Josette’s hand and pressed a burning kiss to the inside of her wrist.

“No servants?” Josette said as Anna. “Well, I suppose we shall have to make do, husband.”

“I suppose we will, wife.” Will slid his loosened shirt down until it exposed his suntanned shoulders, a pale scar cutting across his collarbone. “Now … I seem to be hungry.”

Josette drew a breath, reached into the bowl, and plucked out a strawberry.