Page 121

Pembroke seemed not to notice her surprise. “The danger now is that every magistrate between here and Glasgow will decide the solution is to move troops towards every road simultaneously. They will leave themselves blind somewhere.”

Baines became very still.

Pembroke took another sip of whisky.

Judith felt the same small unease she had experienced when his gaze had touched her papers.

“What makes you think that?” she asked.

Pembroke looked at her. For a moment his expression was almost blank. Then he shrugged, looking slightly confused as he apparently searched his memory. “Someone has spent the last week explaining military dispositions to me, although I confess most of it escapes me.”

Baines’ voice became deceptively casual. “You remembered the roads.”

“Did I?”

“You said magistrates might move troops towards every road and leave themselves blind somewhere.”

Pembroke looked faintly embarrassed. “That sounds almost intelligent.”

Baines smiled.

Pembroke smiled back.

Judith had the oddest sensation that something had passed between them which she did not understand.

A moment later, Pembroke knocked the edge of his writing desk against the side-table and nearly overturned the narcissus.

Judith caught the bowl. “Good heavens.”

He retrieved the desk and tucked it more securely beneath his arm.

“Where is Sir Lionel?”

“The library, I believe.”

“Excellent. If I do not return, Cranford has killed me.” He left in more of a hurry than usual.

Baines continued looking at the closed door as Judith set the bowl back upon the table.

“Well?” she queried.

He glanced at her. “Well, what?”

“Your face.”

“Is it handsome?”

“Your expression, Major, is suspicious.” She waited.

At last, Baines crossed to the table where Pembroke had stood. “He knew the military significance of moving forces towards multiple roads.”

“Someone may have told him.”

“Yes.”

“Lord Cranford or Sir Lionel may have told him.”

“God help us, yes.”