Midnight Honor

the sight of another scarlet-clad officer standing behind him. It was Major Hamilton Garner, with the sloe-eyed Adrienne de Boule on his arm.
    “I am afraid I don't quite see it,” Garner said affably. “But then I only had the pleasure of making your lady wife's acquaintance the one time.”
    “There are some vague similarities,” Angus admitted.
    “Come now,” Worsham argued with an airy wave of ahand. “The hair, the eyes, the fulsome shape of her … upper form. The likeness is there. I am driven to inquire if you have ever had the Lady Anne sit for a portrait?”
    “I have suggested it several times, but she always manages to find an excuse. I fear she imagines too many shortcomings, which would in turn lead to exaggerations on the canvas.”
    “Shortcomings? I was not aware of any.”
    “She thinks she is too tall,” Angus murmured, looking up at the painting again. “And she believes her nose is violently crooked, whereas I have assured her it only tilts … ever so slightly … to the left.”
    “Gad. Most married men would not be able to tell you if their wives had blue eyes or brown. Never say that you find yourself missing her company, sir.”
    Angus caught himself and smiled wanly. “I confess there are times I miss the diversion.”
    “Even when there are so many others about?”
    Angus glanced at Adrienne, as he was invited to do. Her hair was piled high and powdered as white as her skin, of which there was no lack on display. She was a tiny, slender creature to begin with, but her waist had been pinched even smaller, and her breasts pushed so high there were two faintly pink rims of nipple showing above the rich burgundy silk of her gown.
    She saw him staring and smiled.
    “Your wife,” Garner said casually. “I understand she has been diverting more than her fair share of attention these days.”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “You've not read today's crop of dispatches?”
    Angus looked into the jade green eyes and had the sensation of being lured out onto ice that was too thin to bear his weight. “I have been conducting musket drills in the field with my regiment all day, and I confess the thought of a hot bath was more appealing than wading through a small hillock of parchment.”
    “Then you know nothing of your wife's activities in your absence?”
    “You make it sound as if she has stormed London and taken the king hostage.”
    Garner's laugh was a brief exhale from the back of his throat, as phony as the air of friendly camaraderie. “I would suggest, sir, that this is no jest. It seems your wife has been making quite the spectacle of herself. We have it on good authority that she has been gadding about the countryside in secret, aspiring to incite rebellion amongst your clansmen. To be more precise, she has declared for the prince and spent the last three weeks collecting signatures on a petition that would give her the necessary leverage to assume leadership of the clan in your absence.”
    Angus looked at him in astonishment. “I don't believe it.”
    “The source is reliable,” Garner added, watching Angus's face intently. “Lord Loudoun himself questioned a man they recently arrested and who was … persuaded … to reveal what he knew about a flurry of rumors we had been hearing for the past fortnight. In all honesty, it must be said there was a suspicion in some quarters that you might have sanctioned, even encouraged her activities, but”—he held up a hand with the arrogant negligence of someone accustomed to offering insults without fear of reprisal—“Lord Forbes has personally vouched for your loyalty and has assured the general your commitment to King George is firm.”
    Angus set his glass on a nearby table and clasped his hands behind his back. “My commitment to Scotland is firm, sir. To do what is best for her and her people.”
    “An admirable sentiment, I'm sure, but as you know there can be no room for sentiment on a battlefield. As a fellow officer I am more concerned with knowing that when my dragoons charge the field, your infantry will be behind us to offer their support.”
    “So long as your men are charging in the right direction, Major, you have no need to concern yourself over the whereabouts of me or my regiment.”
    The green of Garner's eyes darkened, and Angus could feel the ice cracking beneath his feet. It was well known throughout the ranks of the military that Garner was both a master swordsman and an expert marksman. To