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swirling through the kitchen’s warmth.
    ‘I didn’t mean that anyone should leave,’ Sophia said.
    ‘’Tis nae your doing,’ said the older woman firmly. ‘’Tis my own. The loon would sit there half the morning if he thought I’d let him do it. Kirsty, bring a bowl and spoon, so I can serve our guest her morning draught.’
    Kirsty looked to be about Sophia’s age, if not a little younger, with black curling hair and wide eyes. She moved, as Rory had, with the kind of swift obedience that came not out of fear, but from respect. ‘Aye, Mrs Grant.’
    Sophia sat and ate the hot broth, saying nothing lest she might disrupt these women more than she already had. She felt their eyes upon her as they moved about their work, and she was glad when she had finished and could push away the bowl, and thank them.
    Mrs Grant assured her it had been no trouble. ‘But,’ she added, carefully, ‘I dinna think that it would please the countess if ye were to make a habit of it.’
    Sophia glanced up, hopeful that the servants might already know what place she was to have within the household. ‘Am I then to take meals with the family?’
    ‘Aye, of course, and where else?’ Mrs Grant asked, ‘with ye being kin to the countess?’
    Sophia said, slowly, ‘There are many levels of kinship.’
    The older woman looked at her a moment, long, as though she sought to read behind those words, and then she hoisted another kettle onto its hook and said, ‘Nae to the Countess of Erroll, there aren’t.’
    ‘She seems a good woman.’
    ‘The best of all women. I’ve workit in this kitchen thirty years, since I was ages with Kirsty, and I ken the countess’s ways mair than most, and I’ll tell ye ye’ll nae find her equal on God’s earth.’ Her sideways glance smiled. ‘Did ye think ye’d be put into service?’
    ‘I did not know what to expect,’ said Sophia, not wanting to bare all her longings and fears to a stranger. The past was the past, after all, and what cared these two women for how she had struggled since losing her parents? She showed them a smile of her own. ‘But I see I have come to a good place.’
    Again Mrs Grant’s eyes searched hard for a heartbeat before she said, ‘Aye, that ye have. Kirsty.’
    Kirsty turned round.
    ‘They’ll be missing our guest in the dining room, presently. Best ye should show her the way.’
    ‘Aye,’ said Kirsty. ‘I’ll do that.’
    Sophia stood, gratefully. ‘Thank you.’
    The creases on Mrs Grant’s face that had looked stern beforehand now seemed to have been carved by smiles. ‘Ach, ’tis nae bother, mistress. Just mind now that ye eat your meal at table, else they’ll ken that I’ve been feedin ye in secret.’
    In the end, Sophia found she had no trouble eating everything that Kirsty served. The four days’ ride from Edinburgh had left her feeling ravenous, and Mrs Grant’s good cooking rivalled anything she’d eaten at the Duke of Hamilton’s own table.
    If the Countess of Erroll had wondered at Sophia’s late arrival to the dining room, she made no comment on it, only asked her in a friendly way if she had found the chamber to her liking.
    ‘Thank you, yes. I rested well.’
    ‘It is a plain room,’ said the countess, ‘and the fire must work to warm it, but the view is quite unequalled. On those days when the weather is fine, you must look to the sunrise, and tell me if it’s not the prettiest one you have seen.’
    Mr Hall, reaching for bread, gave Sophia a confiding wink. ‘That would be only one day of each month, my dear. The Lord has favoured Slains in many ways, not least by providing this castle with such an amiable mistress, but He prefers, for reasons of His own, to leave those favours wrapped in fog and foul winds. If you should see the sunrise twice before the summer comes, then you may count yourself most fortunate.’
    The countess laughed. ‘Good Mr Hall, you’ll make the poor lass melancholy. I grant that you yourself have