With a gasp she took off, but not in the direction of the cottage. He would expect her to run home so she knew she must confound him and lose him in the shadows. She ran a few metres but the ridiculous shoes hobbled her and she had to kick them off after a few metres, losing valuable time. Still, she was fast and she sprinted barefoot over the grass, her arms pumping and her blonde hair streaming behind her. She ran down the slope, the house at her back, heading for the gracious hump of the Adam bridge. Beyond it lay the ponds and the walled garden. She could lose him there, surely . . .?

She headed for it, passing under ancient beeches and oaks, but lanterns flickered, lighting the path, whereas to her right a dense tall hedge curved around and away, back towards the house but slipping into darkness.

She glanced back but there was no sign of him. Not yet.

She ran to the hedge and felt the shadows claim her, the moonlight no longer kissing her dress. She ran around the curve, almost immediately coming to a tall ironwork gate that had a dark avenue leading off behind it.

She peered through – he would never find her in there! – and she pulled at it eagerly. A chain rattled.

‘No!’ she whispered frantically, looking back to find Sholto rounding a beech tree, heading for the bridge. He stopped at the sound, looking over. She could see him squint, trying to see into the shadows. Even if he couldn’t see her yet, he would in another few paces.

She looked up with a gasp. The gate was twelve, fifteen feet high. Nothing to her . . . Without another thought, she hitched up her dress and scaled it quickly. She jumped down on the other side, but the full skirt billowed and caught on a spike as she leapt, tearing a gash through it.

She looked down dispassionately. It no longer held any beauty for her. She would happily throw it into the fire when she got home and watch it burn.

‘Effie! Don’t!’

The sound of his footsteps drubbing the hard ground came to her ear and she took off again, sprinting silently down a narrow grassy lane. The hedge reared high above her on both sides but with one left turn she was out of sight. It led onto another narrow avenue, less than the span of her open arms, the high bushes lush and thick. She frowned. What was this place?

Bewildered, she ran on, taking a left turn, then a right. A left, a left, then another right – only to come to a towering stone obelisk and a dead end. She stared at it in panic. Where was she? How did she get out of here? Should she turn back or find another way around?