She lifted the dog, feeling something inside her ease as she felt the soft warm weight of the animal in her arms. The last time she had felt it, everything had been falling apart. Her world disintegrating around her . . . It was still disintegrating even now. She closed her eyes, holding the puppy closer to her cheek.

‘Y’ like dogs then.’

‘We always had them back home,’ she said quietly, angling her head as Slipper burrowed into the crook of her neck, tickling her with a cold, wet nose. ‘They weren’t pets, working dogs only, but ours I had to rear by hand after her mother rejected her so we had a special bond.’

‘Aye, that can happen.’ He watched her as she cuddled the animal.

‘Where are you taking them?’

‘On a walk. They need to stretch their legs and I’ve some pen mending to do so they can keep me company. You can too if you wish.’

‘Thank you, but I’m just on my way to the station to collect my father,’ she demurred. ‘He’s travelling down from Lochaline today and I can’t be late. He’s no English.’

‘It sounds like I finished the bothy just in time then—’ She saw the gamekeeper’s eyes lift off her and onto something behind. ‘Good day, sir.’

‘Felton.’

She turned to see Sholto approaching. He was wearing a suit and looking grim-faced. ‘Miss Gillies.’

She swallowed at his coldness. Last night in the parlour there had been glimmers of his old kindness, but it seemed that with the rising of the sun . . .

‘They’re coming along well,’ Sholto said as the dogs clamoured around his ankles now, seeing how she was holding onto Slipper.

‘Aye, sir. They’re growing fast now,’ Felton replied. ‘They’re a good pack. Clever animals. I’m pleased with them.’

Slipper wriggled in her arms, beginning to sniff her hair and Effie gave a low, unexpected giggle as she was tickled. ‘You monkey,’ she whispered, planting a kiss on the dog’s head.

Both men watched as though she’d done something unusual.

‘Well,’ Sholto’s smile was tight, tension around the edges of his eyes. It was clear he didn’t see dogs as pets. ‘I won’t keep you.’

He walked off, Felton giving a single short whistle that brought the dogs immediately to his side.

The two of them watched him go for a moment.

‘I understand you dined with the family last night,’ Mr Felton said, looking back at her.

Effie kept her gaze on Sholto’s back. So upright. So correct. So determined to avoid any one-on-one interaction with her. ‘Aye. The countess wanted to hear about my home,’ she said quietly. ‘Apparently they’re thinking about . . . buying the isles.’

His face was impassive but she knew his inward reaction probably mirrored hers. Who bought islands?

‘I saw you on your way up last night. I didn’t recognize you at first,’ he said.