But Evelyn Fergusson was not to be drawn. ‘God knows what Lorna may do or what her motives are, but I think your father would say that only two people can make your particular decision. I’m not one of them – and nor is he. I also think Hamish will be back very shortly with your group. Perhaps you’d go through to the kitchen and ask Mrs Cameron to put the kettle on so that we can have tea as soon as they come in. And could you bring me a glass of water when you come back, darling – I think I’ll take one of my pills before they arrive so I can walk to the dining room without looking too much like an old crock, but I shall get you to show them round the house. I’m very much looking forward to meeting them all.’

And Isobel knew that, at any rate for the time being, she had got as much out of the old lady as Evelyn was prepared to disclose.

Chapter Twenty-three

Everyone enjoyed the garden tour. Hamish was not only extremely knowledgeable about gardening in general, but knew every plant at Tillydrum so that he seemed to be talking about intimate friends. He possessed the gift of being able to transmit his own passion for his subject to a mixed audience and make it as enjoyable and accessible to the uninitiated as to fellow enthusiasts. He had a fund of stories about the hazards and rewards of opening to the public, a store of entertaining anecdotes about the eccentricities of his forceful employer, whom he clearly adored, and a racy way with words that kept them all amused. Every plant and tree was clearly labelled, though he pointed out a few notices, beside blank spaces in various parts of the garden, which bore the sad legend: THIS RARE PLANT WAS REMOVED BY A VISITOR.

For Morwenna the afternoon was the highlight of the most enjoyable ten days she had spent in years, and when Hamish, impressed with her knowledge and obvious enjoyment of the garden, asked if she might consider doing an article on the Tillydrum gardens for a Scottish paper and said he’d like to suggest it to Miss Fergusson, she was overcome with pleasure. Somehow Catherine had managed to instil in her a new confidence about her journalistic abilities and suggest ways in which she might become a little more adventurous in her writing and give rein to her sense of humour. Perhaps she could do a series of articles on Scottish gardens? Perhaps she should try to send copy out to editors of other journals as well as her local magazine?