She gave me a curious glance. ‘That’s the Fiaclach. It’s been there for hundreds of years, they say.’

‘What’s it for?’

‘For? Well now, it’s famed in its own way. We had a group of Edinburgh scientists come once. It was made for pagan uses, you know, all that sacrifice and old religion.’

‘I had not known that.’

‘If you go, take care. It gets rare windy up there and the cliffs are dangerous, so take caution if you want to explore. Always take a stick, Miss Swansome. I can see you like your walking, but the mist comes down awful quick and the ground is rough. You wouldn’t be the first to take a nasty tumble.’

Coffee was served in the drawing room and I took my place on the sofa and studied the dark drapes and hangings with distrust. Mary had gone upstairs in search of a game. Miss Gillies chattered inconsequentially and all the time, unease settled into the very pores of my skin. I thought of the pebble and wondered if this was some game Mary undertook with her brother.

‘Did Mary and William play together much?’ I asked.

‘Well, yes, they did by necessity, although Mary preferred the house and her toys and William the island.’

‘Did they have shared pursuits? An interest in any of the same toys?’

Miss Gillies looked up from her work and pierced me with a stare. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘For no reason,’ I lied, ‘I was merely interested to understand more about Mary and her grief.’

‘There is nothing there for you to learn,’ but her hand worried at her brooch and I felt the vibration of secrets.

Mary returned and we played for a while and later I put her to bed. Leaning down, I gave Bobbity a kiss. She watched me intently and lifted the doll and touched its lips to my cheek. She smiled then. It was the tiniest movement and I knew that her face hid more than it showed, but its power dissolved some of my anxiety. I was gripped by a fierce tenderness for her that swelled in my throat and I had to turn away to hide the volley of emotion.

‘Goodnight, Mary,’ I said.

The passageway was chilled and a thin wind rattled at the panes. Placing the candle in my own room, I went to stand at the window. With only the faintest of moons there was little to define the island – just a line here or there, marked in moonbeam. My gaze wandered up to Stack Mor and below, in the circle of stones, a lantern lit the shape of someone kneeling. I thought of what I had so recently learned and pressed my face close to the glass where the chill floated on my skin.