She had been right last night. It hadn’t been a bad dream. There had been a man, looking for something in her room. But not just that one—

She opened the case and looked inside. Her heart dropped like a dead bird.

He’d come to this one too.

Twenty minutes later, she was bathed, dressed and back in the servants’ hall. A quiet broke out as she walked slowly through, dressed in her Sunday best navy wool skirt and blouse.

‘Well, it’s not quite on last night’s level,’ Mrs McKenzie said. ‘But to what great occasion do we owe thanks for putting you in a skirt? Even if it is the skirt that’s being held up by a . . . bent nail?’ She tutted at the sight. ‘For heaven’s sake.’

Billy spluttered with laughter. Jenny and Fanny giggled. Even Barra was smiling.

‘We had nothing else back home, Mrs McKenzie,’ Effie said simply, walking over to her chair. She felt spectral. Completely empty.

‘I’m sure not, but you’re not at home anymore, Miss Gillies. Bring it to me later and I’ll sew another button on for you. That thing is a liability. You could be injured by it. What if you were to get tetanus?’

‘Death by skirt,’ Billy grinned. ‘There’s a new one.’

She didn’t have it in her to smile at his quip and she took her seat in silence as a plate of steaming porridge was set before her by one of the kitchen maids. She stared at it, knowing there was no way she could eat.

‘So, Miss Gillies?’ Mr Graves prompted, reminding her of Mrs McKenzie’s original question. ‘The great occasion?’

She looked at him dully. It was hard to think straight. Could he see her hands were shaking? ‘. . . Oh. My father’s arriving today, from Lochaline. I’m to collect him from the station.’

‘Ah. Well, that will be nice for you, to be reunited with him and have some family near.’

But for how long? How could they stay now? What she had just discovered had shaken her to her core. She felt paranoid, and defeated.

She forced herself to respond, to somehow move through the motions. ‘Aye. I’m going to go down to the cottage after this, to clean it before our furniture arrives.’ Her voice was as colourless as her cheeks. Where was he, her intruder? Would he confront her in here? Shame her before everyone? He had all the proof he needed.

‘Does that mean you’ll be moving out of your room upstairs?’ Mrs McKenzie asked.

Effie nodded. It would take all of three minutes for her to pack her possessions. What remained of them.

‘Shame,’ Fanny murmured, looking sad. Effie couldn’t meet her eyes.

‘Well, that’s very well timed,’ Mr Graves said. ‘Mr Felton came up last night to say the cottage was ready.’