‘I was a fool to think . . .’ He stopped himself short.

‘Think what?’

He shook his head.

Did he blame himself for taking her riding? ‘Sholto, it wasn’t your fault the horse took off—’

‘I’m not talking about the horse,’ he said abruptly. She had never heard him sound like this before. His voice was hollow. He blinked, staring back at her like she was something unfathomable. ‘Every time I think there’s a chance, a way for us to somehow be in each other’s lives . . . something happens to show me it’s madness. That it can never be. I can’t stand it, Effie. Other people can’t stand it.’

She frowned, frightened by the look in his eyes. ‘Sholto—’

He gave another forced laugh, but it held no joy. ‘I mean, you do see it, don’t you?’ He ran a hand through his hair, looking stricken. ‘You understand what I’m saying . . . Everything’s against us.’ He bit his lip. ‘Everyone.’

Who was everyone? His parents? Her father? Felton? Sibyl? Because when it had been the two of them on the mount, it had felt like there was nothing in their way at all. It had felt like all the power in the universe was pushing them towards one another. If Sibyl hadn’t come along when she did . . . She took a step towards him but he took several back, increasing the distance between them. ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘No.’

He was looking at her now like she was the danger. She watched the distance between them increase.

‘I’ll get . . . I’ll get Mrs Mac to run a bath for you. And a stiff drink. You’ll need that,’ he muttered. ‘The shock lingers in the body for a while.’

‘But—’ she said as he turned away and began walking back to the house. ‘Sholto!’ she called, but he didn’t turn back; just carried on walking, leaving her alone on the path. The shock lingering.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

‘Mrs McKenzie, this really isn’t necessary,’ Effie said, holding the liqueur glass.

‘His lordship’s orders,’ the housekeeper said from the dressing room, swirling the bath water so that the bubbles foamed. ‘You’ve had a shock.’

If she heard that one more time . . . Did they think she was made of glass? ‘It was just a fright. I didn’t even come off. I’m fine.’

‘All the same. And these are for you.’ Mrs McKenzie handed her a soft tower of plumped-up towels. ‘Now, do as you’re told and rest in there a while. If nothing else, I can tell his lordship I’ve done as he asked and get on. It’s not like we’re not busy enough with two hundred people descending here in a few hours.’

Effie couldn’t imagine that number of people; she came from a world of thirty-six. ‘Thank you.’