‘Lord Chatterley before the accident. I shall remember that one.’ The king tapped his head, getting the hint at long last and wandering off into the crowd.

‘Effie, you shouldn’t be here,’ Sholto said with urgency.

She felt her heart plummet. ‘But why not? Sibyl specifically asked—’

‘She shouldn’t have,’ he said firmly. ‘It wasn’t . . . it wasn’t kind.’

‘I don’t understand. She’s been nothing but kind – ever since the riding thing earlier, she’s looked after me. These are her shoes, her dress, her jewels . . .’

He was staring at her with a look she couldn’t read.

‘What is it?’

Sholto noticed the man still standing beside them, openly listening in on their conversation. ‘I say, have we met?’ he asked curtly.

‘Not properly, sir, no. Miss Gillies and I were just talking.’

‘Do you know this man?’ Sholto asked her.

‘Miss Gillies and I met on St Kilda, Lord Sholto. I was there for the final week before evacuation.’

‘Oh. I see.’ He looked irritated.

‘Yes. It was a busy time, of course, and stressful. There was a lot of high emotion, which was to be expected. Then, of course, the landlord’s factor was found dead.’

‘Mmm, yes. Bad business,’ Sholto muttered distractedly, his jaw pulsing, his patience – and manners – hanging by a thread. ‘Well, would you excu—?’

‘Actually, Miss Gillies and I were just talking about him.’ The reporter looked from Sholto back to Effie again. ‘Because I did remember noticing an . . . altercation between you and Mr Mathieson—’

She stood, frozen. This couldn’t be happening. Not here. Not in front of all these people. In front of Sholto.

‘—outside the church, the night before the evacuation. You were walking back to the village and he caught up with you. It looked like he wanted to talk with you.’

‘. . . He probably did.’ Her voice was small. ‘He was forever on at us about something.’ She looked past him, looking for the police. Were they here too?

‘But then he took you by the hand. Or rather, he tried to, and you jumped like you’d been burnt.’

She swallowed. ‘I expect he must have surprised me.’

‘It seemed an extreme response to a harmless gesture.’

‘What makes you think Mr Mathieson was harmless?’

The comment was out before she could stop it. His eyes narrowed. ‘You looked like you hated him.’

She didn’t doubt she probably still did. She couldn’t hide what she felt about that man any longer, not after the things he’d done. ‘Most of us did. He wasn’t popular.’