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“One must always account for enemy action,” Baines supplied.

“The cushion is poor.”

Sir Lionel looked personally offended. Cranford choked.

Pembroke put down the cue with unnecessary dignity. “I fail to see what is amusing.”

Thomas wiped his eyes. “Nothing, sir, nothing whatever.”

Baines looked towards the shattered window.

Pembroke left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

There was a respectful pause before Sir Lionel said, “Judith is going to be furious.”

Edward shook his head. “She will simply send him packing after collecting the funds for a repair.”

Baines smiled before he could prevent it.

Sir Lionel eventually wandered out in search of someone who could replace a window before Judith discovered it. Thomas stayed close to Baines, asking questions about cavalry horses, campaigning and whether officers truly slept in the saddle.

“Only the bad ones,” Baines told him. “The rest fall off first.”

Sir George laughed.

Edward shook his head. “You are ruining him.”

“He was already susceptible.”

Thomas ignored both of them. “Did you ever want to leave the army?”

The question was more serious than the others.

Baines looked towards the broken window and the sunlit hills beyond. “Yes.”

Thomas seemed surprised. “Why did you not?”

Baines rested both hands upon the cue. “Because staying mattered more than wanting to leave.”

The young man absorbed that.

Across the table, Cranford had gone quiet.

Baines noticed. For the first time since the political discussion began, Cranford no longer looked bored. His gaze had drifted towards the door through which Pembroke had departed.

Baines smiled. “Cranford?”

The Viscount looked back.

“Your shot.”

Cranford approached the table.

Baines moved aside and watched him line up the cue with slightly too much care.

Someone presently beneath this roof was sufficiently interested in military arrests to risk lives by transmitting those actions. Baines was no closer to proving whom that person was.

Cranford had reacted to Pembroke’s departure.