No one spoke for several moments. There seemed to be a general air of disbelief – if not anger – that someone who was sitting at this table, downstairs, would tonight be sitting at the table upstairs.

‘I know you know your own mind, Miss Gillies, but if I may give a friendly word of advice – I wouldn’t wear trousers,’ Mrs McKenzie said lightly. ‘The countess is more . . . traditional.’

‘Of course,’ Effie murmured. Even she could see that her clothes wouldn’t do, but . . . she remembered Sholto’s strange suit last night. ‘What should I wear?’

‘Your best dress will suffice.’

‘I don’t have any dresses.’

‘What? At all?’ Jenny asked.

Effie shook her head.

‘But what about Sunday best?’ Fanny asked.

‘Yes, I wore that yesterday,’ Effie said, reassured. ‘I’ll wear that.’

Fanny’s expression changed. ‘Wait – you mean the wool skirt you had on that was so big on the waist, it needed a bent nail to keep it up?’

‘A nail?’ The housekeeper looked horrified. She looked straight over to Barra, who was sitting erect, just one eyebrow hitched up. The women shared looks again in silent dismay. ‘You can’t wear that! Suppose it was to catch on the chaise?’

‘A nail?’ William echoed, aghast.

A silence stretched out.

‘. . . I may have something that would fit,’ Barra said finally, with a roll of her eyes. ‘My previous mistress gave it to me when I was leaving her service; she knew I had always admired it. I haven’t yet had an opportunity to wear it myself, but seeing as this is an emergency . . .’

‘I don’t want to impose,’ Effie said quickly.

‘Not at all. That’s very kind of you, Barra,’ Mrs McKenzie said.

‘Yes, that would be so kind,’ Effie echoed gratefully.

‘So then, shoes.’ There was another pause.

‘I have only my boots,’ she said hesitantly. Beside her, William leant back to take in the sight of her feet. He sat up again with a look of alarm.

‘What is your size?’ Mrs McKenzie asked.

‘Size?’ Effie looked back at them blankly.

More looks were exchanged.

‘We’re similar heights,’ Barra said. ‘I should have something that will fit.’

‘If not, we can always pool what options we have this evening, when Miss Gillies is dressed?’ the housekeeper added.

Everyone nodded. It was an imperfect solution but nonetheless – it was a solution.

‘Talking of getting dressed, you will also need some help with your toilette,’ Mrs McKenzie said.

Effie instinctively sensed she shouldn’t query what her ‘toilette’ was.

‘Barra will of course be assisting her ladyship and Jenny is helping Lady Sybil while she is with us – but Fanny, perhaps you could help Miss Gillies this evening?’

‘Of course, Mrs McKenzie.’ Fanny looked back at her with that excited look of adventure again; but this still wasn’t what Effie would call an adventure. ‘Your hair’s long, so we should be able to style it into something pretty.’