She was reflective. ‘I’m too old for change now and the estate would be hard to sell. I have lived here all my life and have not left since I was seventeen.’ She put a finger to her cheek. ‘People here know my blemish so well that it has become invisible. I went once to Edinburgh afterwards and …’ She paused. ‘It was like being burned once more. The looks. The pity. Never again, I told myself, and so it will be. This is my home and always will be now.’ Her face was slack and her cheeks unnaturally red.

I wondered at her comment regarding Iskar. It was not, if I understood the newer will and testament to be true, hers to sell.

‘Do you miss Edinburgh?’ she asked.

‘I miss aspects of it, yes. Others, no.’

She smiled. ‘Always the diplomat, Elspeth. I sense you have not found this job easy so far.’

I blushed. ‘It’s had its challenges.’

‘You miss your sister a great deal?’

My chest tightened with the sudden pain of it. ‘Always.’

She was quiet.

‘Do you ever miss Evangeline?’ I dared.

She did not seem to mind my question. ‘Not as much as I should.’

‘That is very sad. Did your personalities not work well together?’

She was reflective. ‘No, it was not that. She did things that I could not forgive her for. That is the truth of it. I am not one of those carefree people who finds it easy to forget the wrongs done to them.’ She lifted the glass again to her lips.

I wondered what it was that could have been responsible for such a breach in their relationship, but to ask would have seemed an impertinence.

‘And when Mary is independent, where is she to live?’

‘Gulls Cry is hers.’

More than once she topped up her glass until her eyes glazed. The room grew cold and the fire sank in its grate. I thought she had fallen asleep and I opened my mouth to say that I would go when she turned, instantly alert.

‘Iskar was left to me,’ she said. ‘It has always been mine and always will be.’ Her voice was as unforgiving as flint.

And as I sat there, her lies settled upon me and fell like cards upon falling cards, their faces hidden, overlaid by others. I no longer knew where the deceit ended and reality began. My thoughts burrowed past Miss Gillies’ skin, searching for something I could believe in. But, finding nothing, I could only stand and wish her goodnight. There was nobody I could trust, I realized. If Mary were to remain on Skelthsea, I alone could achieve it.

26

The following morning brought frost and a breakfast of overcooked egg with more weak coffee. Miss Gillies eyed me over her cup with a sigh.

‘How are Mrs Lenister and Greer?’ I asked.