Aston Martin DBX

Take the road north out of Gleneagles, where the A9 narrows and climbs into glen country—tight camber changes, blind crests, the odd sheep with no sense of urgency. This is DBX territory. Aston Martin's twin-turbo V8 sends power through all four corners with the kind of composure that never announces itself; 4.5 seconds to 100 km/h happens, and the cabin simply gets on with the business of being handsome about it. Air suspension reads the road ahead and adjusts before you'd think to ask it to, so the ride stays flat through the switchbacks and settles the moment the tarmac does.

Inside, five seats trimmed in leather that smells faintly of a Savile Row fitting room, quilted where it should be, plain where it shouldn't. The boot swallows luggage for a long weekend at a Highland lodge without complaint.

What DBX does better than almost anything in its class is restraint—it has the pace to embarrass sports saloons and the discretion never to mention it. Aston Martin built this for people who value a well-cut line over a loud one, and it shows in every honed edge, every quietly considered detail. Book it for the glen roads, or for the drive to somewhere that deserves one.