Grimm was still struggling to answer when a guard burst through the doors to the study.

“Milord. Milady.” The guard nodded deferentially to Hawk and Adrienne as he hastily entered the room. He approached Grimm, a somber expression on his face. “This just came for ye, Cap’n.” He thrust an official-looking piece of parchment into Grimm’s hands. “The messenger insisted ’twas urgent, and to be delivered into your hands only.”

Grimm turned the message slowly in his hand. The elegant crest of Gibraltar St. Clair was pressed into the red wax. Suppressed memories broke over him: Jillian. She was a promise of beauty and joy he could never possess, a memory he’d consigned to that same uncooperative, shallow grave that now seemed determined to regurgitate its dead.

“Well, open it, Grimm,” Adrienne urged.

Slowly, as if he held a wounded animal that might turn on him with sharp teeth, Grimm broke the seal and opened the missive. Stiffly, he read the terse, three-word command. His hand fisted reflexively, crumpling the thick vellum.

Rising, he turned to the guard. “Prepare my horse. I leave in one hour.” The guard nodded and left the study.

“Well?” Hawk demanded. “What does it say?”

“Nothing you need to address, Hawk. Doona worry. It doesn’t concern you.”

“Anything that concerns my best friend concerns me,” Hawk said. “So give over, what’s wrong?”

“I said nothing. Leave it, man.” Grimm’s voice held a note of warning that would have restrained a lesser man’s hand. But the Hawk had never been, and would never be, a lesser man, and he moved so unexpectedly that Grimm didn’t react quickly enough when he whisked the parchment from his hand. Grinning mischievously, Hawk backed away and uncrumpled the parchment. His grin broadened, and he winked at Adrienne.

“ ‘Come for Jillian,’ it says. A woman, is it? The plot thickens. I thought you’d sworn off women, my fickle friend. So who’s Jillian?”

“A woman?” Adrienne exclaimed delightedly. “A young, marriageable woman?”

“Stop it, you two. It’s not like that.”

“Then why were you trying to keep it a secret, Grimm?” Hawk pressed.

“Because there are things you doona know about me, and it would take far too long to explain. Lacking the leisure to tell you the full story, I’ll send you a message in a few months,” he evaded coolly.

“You’re not getting out of this so easily, Grimm Roderick.” Hawk rubbed the shadow beard on his stubborn jaw thoughtfully. “Who is Jillian, and how do you know Gibraltar St. Clair? I thought you came to court directly from England. I thought you knew no one in all of Scotland but for those you met at court.”

“I didn’t exactly tell you the whole story, Hawk, and I doona have time for it now, but I’ll tell you as soon as I get settled.”

“You’ll tell me now, or I’m coming with you,” Hawk threatened. “Which means Adrienne and Carthian are coming as well, so you can either tell me or prepare for company, and you never know what might happen if Adrienne comes along.”

Grimm scowled. “You really can be a pain, Hawk.”

“Relentless. Formidable,” Adrienne agreed sweetly. “You may as well give in, Grimm. My husband never takes no for an answer. Believe me, I know this.”

“Come on, Grimm, if you can’t trust me, who can you trust?” he coaxed. “Where are you going?”

“It’s not a question of trust, Hawk.” Hawk merely waited with an expectant look on his face, and Grimm knew he had no intention of relenting. Hawk would push and poke and ultimately do exactly as he’d threatened—come along—unless Grimm gave him a sufficient answer. Perhaps it was time he admitted the truth, although the odds were that once he did, he wouldn’t be welcomed back at Dalkeith. “I’m going home, sort of,” Grimm finally conceded.

“Caithness is your home?”

“Tuluth,” Grimm muttered.

“What?”

“Tuluth,” Grimm said flatly. “I was born in Tuluth.”

“You said you were born in Edinburgh!”

“I lied.”

“Why? You told me your entire family was dead! Was that a lie too?”

“No! They are. I didn’t lie about that. Well … mostly I didn’t lie,” he corrected hastily. “My da is still alive, but I haven’t spoken to him in more than fifteen years.”

A muscle twitched in Hawk’s jaw. “Sit down, Grimm. You’re not going anywhere until you tell me all of it, and I suspect it’s a tale that’s long overdue.”