‘Of course.’ He cleared his throat. ‘And also it means we shall not have to leave in a rush.’

Her mouth parted as their eyes locked once more. So he had thought it too? All the while he’d been gone, her mind had tried to run through the inevitable sequence of events that was coming, be it sooner or later: her on the shore, watching the anchor lift, the sails bowing out and having him glide away from her. It had left her dismayed, but more than that – shocked by the extent of her dismay. He had been here not two full days and she knew they were already in the shadow of the moment when he would leave again, that it couldn’t be stopped. But . . . not yet. She wanted more. She didn’t know what exactly, but she knew she needed more than just this.

And her wish had been granted! They had a stay of execution and he was still here now. For today. Tonight. The question was – what were they going to do with the time left?

She saw the hope dial up in his eyes as he saw his turmoil reflected in hers, a smile beginning to flicker on his lips—

The front door opened suddenly and the factor went to step out, looking startled to find the pair of them on his threshold, standing together in silence. Sholto immediately stepped back. Effie too, creating a space wide enough for the man to pass. But he did not. ‘Lord Sholto,’ he said, pointedly turning his back on her. ‘I was just coming to find you! You must be hungry after your exertions. I’ve prepared a meal for you.’

‘That’s very kind,’ Sholto said after a pause.

Effie looked down, feeling reality bite again. For a moment there, she had allowed herself to believe he was within her reach. Had he noticed the factor’s snub to her? Would he understand it was the reason why she had to step back – not just earlier, and right now, but every time? Would he see that what she wanted didn’t come into it?

‘Was there anything else, Miss Gillies?’ the factor asked, turning slightly as she stood frozen on the spot.

‘. . . No.’ Her voice was flat as she stared back at Sholto.

‘Perhaps Miss Gillies would care to join us?’ Sholto asked quickly.

A flush of high colour swept through the factor’s cheeks, his nostrils flaring with anger at the suggestion.

‘Thank you, but I should go,’ she said stiffly. ‘The bull needs fresh hay.’

There was no light in Sholto’s eyes this time at the mention of the bull but she saw the factor’s approving nod at last and she left without another word, doing what had to be done.

Chapter Six