"Ah, Jamie. I can't see them clearly.

Is she there?"

"'afraid so, yes." He saw no change in her expression. "Here." He offered her the binoculars. "I thought you might like these."

"No need for me to look, or be afraid, Jamie. Who else?" Her voice was the thinnest it had ever been. "Who's with her?"

"Strongbow, Hoag and Gornt."

She turned back to the window to hide but for an instant he had seen the joy that flooded her face. Never mind if Jamie saw, she was thinking, dizzy with excitement. That woman and Edward together? The two of them together, Hoag as well! Doesn't that portend success, Edward's success, that he convinced her? "I'll be upstairs, dressing for dinner. If anyone wants to see me, I'll come down again.

Thanks, dear Jamie." Impulsively, she hugged him. And left.

He stared after her. Why the joy? If Tess is with Hoag, the heavy guns have arrived.

Haven't they?

He went back to his office perplexed, leaving the door ajar, and continued to pack papers and books, his fingers doing the work, his mind elsewhere: on Tess, the future, the shoya, Nemi tonight, the Noble House that he had given twenty years to-- Be honest, you don't really want to leave and know it's a bad time to go out on your own--thinking about Angelique's grim future, tomorrow's meeting with the Swiss Minister and possible imports from their armament-watch factories, all mixed with the news of the incredible Yoshi meeting, Babcott and Tyrer now in Yedo, the bullion the Bakufu had advanced already counted and accurate --and about Nakama, poor fellow.

Poor fellow? He's an assassin, the worst kind. I never felt that, never once did I feel threatened. He must be in Drunk Town or somewhere in the Yoshiwara. If the news flashed to us, someone must have whispered to him and he fled.

Damn it! Now I'll have to cut Tyrer in or Johann...

Voices in the foyer broke into his revery.

A polyglot of voices: MacStruan, Vargas, Hoag, servants bustling around.

No need to greet them. I'll be summoned soon enough. Depressed, he continued with his work, almost done now.

"Jamie!"

He looked around. And was paralyzed.

Maureen. His Maureen in the doorway!

Maureen Ross. Navy blue winter bonnet, blue eyes peeping out above the folds of her heavy woolen head scarf. Navy blue topcoat over a dark blue dress. Maureen Ross, twenty-eight. Tall, a fraction taller than Tess--the average height nowadays a little over five feet, Queen Victoria four feet eleven. "Christ-almighty," he said, voice strangled, mind gone.

"Hello to you, Jamie McFay." She stayed in the doorway, standing straight like her father, her voice lilting. "Can I come in please?"

She unwound the scarf and smiled tentatively.

Now he could see her. Same clear face, not pretty but strong and curiously appealing, hazel freckles, and just as he had last seen her just over three years ago--the dock at Glasgow--though then there were tears at their parting. He had forgotten how her eyes... "Hello Sparkles," he muttered without thinking, using his nickname for her.

"Jesus Christ... Maureen?"

Her laugh trilled. "I take that as a yes and you'll no' be blaspheming anymore, laddie.

Once is fair, me coming like a wraith from the night wanting to surprise you." Her smile and the lilt to her voice made her more attractive than she really was, and the light that danced in her eyes and the love that she wore like a shield. She closed the door and looked at him again. "You look grand, Jamie, a little tired, but you're as bonny as ever."

He had straightened up but still stood behind the desk, his mind jumbled with My God it's you, not Tess, it's you, easy to mistake in the dark, almost same height same stiff back-- remembering his halfhearted, negative letters over the last year and the final one breaking their engagement, his soundless voice saying, Sorry, Maureen, I wrote you, we're not getting married, sorry, don't want to get married, can't now, now that I'm on my own, worst possible time and why didn't...

"Och, Jamie," she was saying from across the room, watching and waiting, her smile deepening, "you canna know how happy I am to see you, to be here at last, aye, the adventures I've had will fill a volume." When he didn't move or reply, a small frown wrinkled her forehead.

"Will you no' get your wits about you, laddie?"

"Tess!" he croaked. "I, we thought you were Tess Struan."

"Mrs. Struan? No, she's in Hong Kong. Such a lady, she arranged for me to come here, didn't charge me a penny piece. "You go see your Jamie McFay with my compliments," she said and introduced me to Captain Strongbow--who gave me a cabin to mysel'--and to fine Dr. Hoag and Mister Smartypants Gornt."

"Eh?"

"That laddie thinks he's God's gift to womanhood but not to me. I'm affianced, I told him, affianced before God to Mr. Jamie McFay. He said he was your friend, Jamie, and Dr. Hoag told me he saved your life so I was nice but kept a distance. Och, laddie, there's so much to learn, so much to tell."

"Christ," he muttered, not hearing her, "easy to make the mistake with the scarf around your face, you and Tess're both the same size, stand the same way..."

"Huh!" Maureen said, her eyes suddenly fiery, "I'll thank you no' to take the Lord's name in vain, and she's a mite shorter and much thicker and much older and her hair is grey, mine's brown and even in the dark I'm not like her!"

When her sudden smile at her own pleasantry did not get through to him, she sighed.

Exasperated, she looked around the room. She saw the decanter. At once went over to it, sniffed to make sure it was whisky, crinkled her nose with distaste but poured him a glass, and a dribble in another.

"Here," she looked up at him, close for the first time, a sudden beam covering her. "My Da' always needed a wusky when the shock of Scotland being part of the British Isles hit him."

The spell broke. Jamie laughed and took her in his arms and hugged her, welcoming her, and the glasses almost spilled out of her hand, "Watch it, laddie," she gasped, managed to put them down and hugged him desperately--all the waiting and standing there, seeing his shock and not the welcome she'd hoped for, trying to be strong and adult, not knowing what to do or how to say that she loved him and could not bear the thought of losing him so she had gambled, gambled and left her sanctuary, she had put her trust in God, took her prayerbook and Bible and her father's derringer in her purse and set out blindly on ten thousand miles of fear.

Inside. But not outside--oh no, never, that's not the Ross way!

"Och, Jamie laddie, laddie..."

"It's all right," he murmured, wishing her trembles away.

In time the shuddering stopped and she released herself, untied her bonnet and let her long plait of red-brown hair uncoil. "That's better," she said. "You're a bonny man, thank you." She handed him his glass and took hers and touched glasses. "Scotland forever," she said as a toast and sipped. "That tastes dreadful, Jamie, but I'm powerful pleased to see you, I canna say it any better."

Her smile was more tentative now, some of her confidence gone. His embrace had been like a brother's, not a lover's, oh God oh God oh God. To hide from him she looked around as she took off her coat and gloves. Her dress was warm and well cut, another shade of blue and showed off her curves and hourglass waist. "Your Mr. MacStruan says you can use your suite and I can have the rooms next door until we have a place of our own. Have you packed up your rooms yet, Jamie?"

"No, not yet." Confused, not knowing how to start but start he must. Soon. "This... all my papers and books were first, I was starting upstairs tomorrow. Everything, the furniture here and upstairs belongs to Struan's."

"Never mind. We can buy our own." She sat in the chair opposite the desk and looked at him. Hands in her lap. Waiting. Sure that now she had to bite her tongue and wait for him to begin.