‘But I didn’t mind, sir.’

He nodded. ‘Because you’re a generous person, Miss Gillies. And I commend you for it. But as I said, you were only ever commissioned during our absence, and it wouldn’t be appropriate for you to continue now the circumstances have changed.’

Appropriate. There it was, that word again.

Effie desperately tried to think of a way to talk him round. If she lost her opportunity to guide the visitors, the only times she would see them – him – would be down here in the village, with the eyes of every islander upon them. She longed suddenly for the privacy of the ledge again, where they had stood suspended between will and action, as the puffins lowed at their feet. ‘But what about my money?’ she blurted. ‘I was promised two shillings and I’ve not earnt it yet.’

Mr Mathieson hesitated, then reached into his pocket and fished out two coins for her. ‘You’re quite right. You deserve to be rewarded for all you’ve done. I’ll make sure his lordship knows upon my return.’

He stepped forward and tipped them into her palm. The coins were warm and she had to resist the urge to tip them out, to step back. There was something repellent about the way he was so obsequious around the visitors and so hectoring and bullying to the rest of them.

‘While we’re here . . .’ He turned back to her, lowering his voice in spite of their evident isolation. ‘I see you found it?’

Effie swallowed as she remembered the book. In all truth, she’d completely forgotten about it, her mind elsewhere during her waking hours. ‘Aye, sir. I did.’ She saw the expectation in his eyes, the need to have his generosity acknowledged. ‘. . . It’s beautiful,’ she added. ‘I’ve never seen anything so lovely.’

‘No, I thought probably not,’ he sighed. ‘Still, just because you come from nothing, it does not mean you should die with nothing. The world is changing fast and we can all improve our stations in this life. You may be coarse and rash, but you’re no fool, Miss Gillies. There’s still hope for you to better yourself and make your father truly proud.’

A small silence opened up and it felt like a tear in the very fabric of the universe. She felt hot tears sting her eyes; the clear intimation was that he wasn’t proud yet.

‘Actually, I was going to talk to you about it. I love the book, but I can’t accept it, sir,’ she said with quiet determination, seeing his shock. She realized it pleased her to be able to push back for once.

‘What?’

‘Yes. It’s too fine. It doesn’t belong here, with someone like me.’