The factor was looking at them like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. ‘What . . .?’ he almost whispered, seeing their playful game. ‘What happened? I thought the rope was going to snap.’ His gaze fell to Effie’s clothes, now stained with great oily streaks.

‘Sholto was attacked by a fulmar,’ she panted, seeing how the rope on her torso had twisted and untucked her shirt so that her midriff was exposed. She began untying the rope as quickly as she could, knowing it would only confirm the factor’s low opinion of her wildness.

There was a pause as he watched on. ‘Lord Sholto,’ he corrected her sternly as she failed to recognize her error. Her appalling familiarity.

‘Lor—’ she automatically began to repeat, but the man in question interrupted.

‘Actually, I asked Miss Gillies – Effie, if you will – to drop the formality. It seemed rather silly when one’s dangling off a rope, being attacked by a seabird.’ His eyes were dancing with amusement.

Effie stared at him, having to resist the urge to break into laughter herself, to throw her arms around his neck. She felt giddy with happiness, her lips still tingling from his kisses.

‘I see,’ the factor said, after a long pause. He looked furious that she had – against all his wishes, warnings and threats – garnered for herself the friendship he had wanted. ‘I trust you are recovered now though, sir?’

‘Absolutely. Although . . .’ He sat up and sniffed at his shirt, pulling at the fabric. ‘I’m afraid I smell rather high.’ He wrinkled his nose as Effie couldn’t help but laugh. She knew she must too; her clothes were smeared with the oil.

‘It’s nasty stuff, that oil,’ the factor said. ‘Gets into the hair. You’d be best dipping in the sea.’

‘That’s just what Effie said!’ Sholto exclaimed.

Effie looked at him in surprise. Had she just said that?

‘I do hope it wasn’t too dull for you, being stuck up here while all the action was going on down there,’ Sholto said, untying his rope from the harness. ‘Although it was probably a mercy that you were saved it! We had a few dramatic moments down there, didn’t we, Effie?’

‘Very dramatic,’ she grinned.

Mathieson looked flabbergasted by Sholto’s repeated use of her given name, this flagrant evidence of friendship.

‘I appreciate your anchoring, though, Mathieson. You were steadfast throughout, even when I was blind and spinning like a top.’

‘I did wonder what was happening down there,’ the factor muttered.

Sholto gave a carefree laugh. ‘It was wild. Absolutely wild. I’ve never been in such a predicament before! Wait till my father hears.’

The factor was standing as erectly as if he’d got a poker down his back. Effie had released her harness and quickly rearranged her shirt, coiling the rope into spools that would fit back into the bag and over her shoulders.