Midnight Honor

army north to Inverness; if they cannot take the capital, then they cannot hope to survive the spring. We are going home, one way or the other, and we will be back together before the leaves are fully green on the trees, I swear it.”
    She was silent for so long, he started counting his heartbeats.
    “You won't take any foolish chances?”
    “I swear I shall be cautious beyond measure. I shall play the role of fawning milksop with such aplomb, they will think me part of the ornamentation on the walls. In return, I want a solemn promise from you.”
    “What kind of a promise?” She lifted her head again and sniffled through a frown.
    “I want an absolutely sacred promise that there will be no more recklessness in the future. No more swords, no guns, no riding out in the middle of the night, no charging out onto a damned battlefield. I cannot even conceive of doing this thing if I thought I had to worry about what you were doing in my absence, and on this point there will be no argument, no debate, no bargains struck, no negotiable compromise. And no vague circumventions. I want you to give me your word of honor as a colonel in the prince's army, as a Farquharson, a MacKintosh, a woman, a wife, a lover … have I missed any possibilities? Left any loopholes open to your devious mind?”
    Her frown was contentious, her sigh filled with resignation. “No. I expect you have covered everything.”
    “And?”
    She looked up sullenly. “I promise. No more battlefields.”
    He studied her face a moment, wary of a too-hasty capitulation. “I would have you swear to undertake no more undue risks, but I suppose that would be beyond the pale, since you have already extended an invitation to the prince to be our guest at Moy Hall while his army takes Inverness.”
    Her eyes widened a moment with surprise, but he only shook his head and kissed the tip of her nose. “Cameron mentioned your generous offer earlier. Were you planning to tell me at all, or was it just going to be a surprise?”
    “I was most certainly going to tell you. When—if—His Grace gave me an answer,” she admitted softly. “I thought it only hospitable to offer the use of the Hall since it is so close to Inverness, and there is not another glen within ten miles large enough to encamp the army.”
    “Nonetheless, you might have asked,” he murmured. “I am still the master of my own
home
, am I not?”
    “Of course you are,” she said. “When you are there.”
    He kissed her again, on the mouth this time, molding hislips to hers, coaxing them gently apart and exploring the sleek surfaces with the tip of his tongue. When he released her, he watched her lick the moisture off her lips and almost forgot what they had been talking about.
    “Do you remember the cave I showed you once? The one where my grandfather hid his entire family for two months, after the first uprising?”
    She was staring at his mouth too, her own still tingling with his taste. “I think so. Yes, I do.”
    “The English searched day and night but could not find it. I doubt there are five men alive who even know where it is, myself included. I am thinking … it might be best if I leave Hardy here with you. If you need to take refuge there for any reason, and you're not certain of the location, he can show you the way. In any event, he can make himself useful, stocking it with food and supplies, lamps, bedding … whatever you feel might be necessary if the prince is forced to take flight. Besides, if I take him back to Edinburgh, he will only complain the whole way and beat me senseless with his clothing brush. I doubt he would bear up under questioning a second time, anyway.”
    Her gaze flicked up from his mouth. “What do you mean, a second time?”
    “While you were leading the clan to Aberdeen, Hardy was swearing to a privately convened court of inquisition— namely Garner and Worsham—that you were still in Inverness at Drummuir House, the bored houseguest of your esteemed mother-in-law. He swore it could not possibly be you mentioned in the reports because you could not be in Aberdeen and Inverness at the same time, and he had taken delivery of handwritten letters from both you and the dowager to prove it.”
    A tiny wrinkle appeared at the bridge of her nose. “I did not write any letters.”
    “No, you didn't. But Adrienne de Boule was kind enough to have her maid write them for you.”
    The wrinkle deepened and was joined by another. “Adrienne de Boule