Page 47 of The Midnight Secret

Wherever that was.

They were moving on tonight – Gladly and the others included – to Dunvegan Castle. They would all spend the first few days of the New Year with James MacLeod, heir apparent to the MacLeod estate and another of Sholto’s oldest friends.Hisparents were away at the Isle of Bute. It seemed to Effie that one of the conditions of having a castle was never actually staying there, but visiting friends’ piles instead.

‘By the way,’ Gladly said. ‘I just saw MacLeod. He got here late. He’s had to bring the boat down, would you believe? Apparently the roads north are impassable – there’s much heavier snow further up – so he’s going to sail us back.’

‘Sailing in December?’ she frowned, looking nervously at Sholto. ‘Is that safe?’

He smiled. ‘Freezing, but we’ll manage. Don’t worry – St Kilda’s in open water but we’re much more protected in the Minch.’

The first four bars of the next dance was played, their cue that the next reel was about to begin.

‘Oh Lord, already?’ Gladly groaned behind her. ‘How’s a chap supposed to finish a drink?’

‘Which one are we doing now?’ Colly asked with a sigh.

‘Reel of the 51st,’ Veronica said officiously. ‘And you’re doing it with me.’

‘Oh, good,’ he said flatly.

‘Miss Gillies?’ a voice asked. Effie turned to see a rotund, bespectacled man with sandy red hair. She had no idea of his name. ‘Duncan Forbes. I believe I have the pleasure of this dance?’

The debonair Rt Hon. Archie Baird-Hamilton he was not.

‘Wonderful,’ she smiled, even though her feet were burning in her shoes. It was almost dawn, and they had been dancing all night. ‘I’d love to.’

‘Look after her for me, Forbes,’ Sholto said, slapping him on the shoulder.

‘She’s safe with me, old boy.’

Sholto winked at Effie as she was led away.

‘You’re with me on this one, Sholto,’ she heard Peony say to him, giving him her hand to lead her back into the middle of the room.

An hour and four reels later, they were almost done. Almost. It was approaching five in the morning, but still several hours off dawn; the sun didn’t rise much before eight at this time of year. Effie was dropping. She was used to the night hunts back home, climbing sea stacks and catching gannets in the spring, but dancing all night took a different level of stamina.

‘You look tired,’ Sholto said, his hand on the small of her back as they reconvened before the final reel of the night.

‘Nonsense,’ she rebuffed. ‘That breakfast has refuelled me.’ Gladly had come round with plates of hot kippers before the Eightsome.

Sholto wasn’t fooled. ‘Well, we’ll be getting on the boat straight after this, so you can sleep all the way to Dunvegan. MacLeod’s keen to get off quickly. If you head straight down to the jetty after this, Gladly and I will bring the trunk.’

‘But how will I know which is his?’

‘Ask anyone. They can point it out to you.’

She nodded as the fiddles gave their salutary warning. Sholto frowned as no partner came to claim her. ‘Who’s down with you now?’

She looked at her dance card. ‘...Viscount Lisle?’

‘Oh, yes, I saw him over there somewhere.’ Sholto’s height made it easy for him to pick out faces in the crowd and he grabbed her hand, towing her through the bodies to where a stocky young man was finishing his drink. He seemed several years younger than Effie, she guessed.

‘Lisle!’ Sholto barked, after standing there for several seconds unnoticed.

The younger man stood to attention – before slumping again. ‘Ah, Sholly, it’s you.’

Sholto arched an eyebrow. ‘How many of those have you had?’

‘...T-two?’

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