He watched her walk over to it. ‘Yes. I asked for it to be dropped off. Wasn’t sure whether I’d need my hands free to stop you from bolting all over the place.’

‘You just said you knew I’d be a natural.’

‘Yes.’ A wry grin escaped him as he tied up her horse too. ‘But you can never be wholly certain.’

She turned on the spot, looking out at the trees that fanned around them in perfect, sculpted symmetry, playing peek-a-boo with the world.

‘Are you hungry?’

She nodded, sitting opposite him on the rug and watching as he opened the basket and pulled out a pastry-topped pie, some chicken drumsticks and cold vegetables, some of which she recognized – tomatoes, cucumbers, pickles, carrots, beetroot . . . The assortment alone was dizzying. She hadn’t known food could come in so many colours, textures . . . ‘What’s that?’ she asked as he set down a small round dish.

‘Pâté.’

‘Oh.’

‘Had it before?’

‘Nup.’

‘Heard of it before?’

‘Nup.’ She looked at it doubtfully.

‘It’s delicious.’ He looked back at it too, his face slowly pulling into a grimace. ‘But I admit, it does look . . . rather unsavoury.’

Effie watched as he sliced the pie, serving onto china plates. ‘Mrs McLennan’s provided us with some elderflower cordial and trifle and lemon cake too, so we shan’t starve.’

Starve? This was more food than she’d ever seen in one place in her entire life. She picked up something small and red. It was round and hard, with a skinny tail.

‘Radish?’ she asked.

He nodded.

She took a bite, surprised by its crunchiness. But it tasted . . . clean. Of the earth. She smiled, liking it.

They began to eat, Sholto shrugging off his jacket and lying outstretched on his side as he picked up some asparagus. Effie sat cross-legged, trying everything at least once. She started out picking warily, but it was all delicious and she was hungrier than she had realized. She took another of the baby beets. They were so soft and sweet.

‘By the way, I managed to get the book repaired,’ he said, watching her as she saw, too late, the stains upon her fingers. She saw his gaze fall to her mouth and she wondered if it was on her lips too. Did she look ridiculous? ‘Oh . . . Good.’ Just the mention of the book made her tense.

‘Yes, they’ve done a splendid job, sewed everything back in again. Apart from one or two slightly creased pages, it’s as it was.’

She stared at the ground. ‘I’m still awful sorry about it.’

‘Don’t be, it was an accident.’ His eyes fluttered up to her and off again. ‘Besides, it was hardly the most shocking thing to happen that day.’

‘Wasn’t it? What was more shocking than that?’ She had felt sick about it for days.