What did he know, exactly? Enough to suspect her involvement somehow. She sensed she had to keep as close to the truth as possible. ‘. . . Um, well, one time he brought some paint and brushes for us too. That was a wee while ago. But that was it. We were dependent upon the kindness of friends, to better ourselves.’ She sensed the last bit would satisfy him.

‘He told me once he was courting someone special on St Kilda.’

The blood in her veins slowed to a crawl. Courting? ‘Not me, sir. It must have been someone else. I was only a child all those years and that would have been wrong, wouldn’t it? It would be wrong even to suggest it.’

His eyes narrowed at the insinuation. ‘Quite. Mr Mathieson may be a hard businessman but he’s an honourable man with an upstanding reputation.’

‘Aye, sir. That’s what I thought.’

She felt Mr Weir regard her more keenly. ‘Nonetheless, there is something about you, Miss Gillies.’

‘No, sir, I’m not special,’ she said quickly.

‘No? I’ll be honest, I don’t see it myself, but you do seem to . . . cast a curious spell, Miss Gillies. Their lordships were very taken with you on their return from St Kilda too. And the earl himself went out of his way to offer you a post here. That is not usual behaviour.’

‘He thinks I can help him with a special project.’

‘And can you?’

‘I’ll do my best for him.’

‘Of course, of course you will.’ He tapped his index fingers together thoughtfully. ‘Tell me, Miss Gillies, when was the last time you recall seeing Mr Mathieson?’

‘It was around the time of the evacuation,’ she shrugged. ‘He was helping us pack up and leave. We were all busy, as you can imagine.’

‘But specifically, Miss Gillies, just think back for me – when was the last time you actually remember seeing him. Which day? Where exactly?’

She could feel herself beginning to tremble. She didn’t want to remember it. Any of it. ‘. . . Am I in trouble, sir?’

‘Should you be?’

‘No, sir. I’ve done nothing wrong.’

‘Then it’s a simple question.’

She stared at him. It had been nine days since she’d left but there was a chance he could still be clinging on. He was strong enough, young enough to put up a fight. If she admitted what she’d done right now, a boat could be sent over. The tourist ships weren’t sailing but that wasn’t to say the trawlers weren’t. Or the navy. If word could be passed to them to divert, to drop anchor and shout for him, she could show them exactly where to look. He would be saved.

But in so doing, she would implicate herself. She would have to confess how she knew he was still there, she would have to reveal not just what she’d done, but why.