MY DECISION HAS BEEN TAKEN neither lightly or rashly. I have considered the matter very carefully. Your daughter has a simple choice. You will explain that choice to her, and when you have been informed of her decision, I will act accordingly.”
Charlotte recognised, from the set of her husband’s mouth, the clipped tone which he so rarely used with her, that to protest was futile. “I had no idea that Margaret intended to speak to you yesterday.”
“I have never in my life been addressed in such a manner.” Walter snapped the pen he had been holding in two. “Frankly, I doubt you will be able to persuade her to see sense. She was defiant to the bitter end. However, I am not a tyrant, regardless of what she thinks. I will grant her this one last opportunity to do the right thing. If she rejects it, she must face the consequences.”
“But, Walter . . .”
“No. I don’t ever want to see her again. I won’t even tolerate her presence in the same country as me.” The duke got to his feet. “Let us not allow our daughter to come between us, Charlotte. We will maintain a united front as we always do. If you will excuse me, I have a meeting in the Lords to prepare for. I will expect a decision one way or the other when I return.”
There was nothing for it but to bid her husband good morning and to quit his study. What on earth had possessed Margaret to rush into such an interview? It didn’t help that she herself had been absent, having decided to spend the day with Lady Cecil Kerr after attending mass. When she returned, she’d thought little of finding Walter’s message, saying that he was dining at his club, since it wasn’t exactly unheard of, and Margaret’s excuse of a sick headache was so common these days that she’d felt no need to check on her.
What difference would it have made? Recalling Walter’s stern face and implacable tone, she was forced to accept that the damage was done. Her husband had all but admitted defeat in the matter of Killin, and Walter had been firmly, from the first, set on the match. Margaret must have been very determined indeed to defy him. Wearily, with a horrible sense of foreboding, Charlotte decided that there was no point in postponing the inevitable.
“Mama!” Margaret, still in her dressing gown, leapt up from the window seat as Charlotte entered her bedchamber. “I am sorry I am not yet dressed, I have the headache.”
“I am not surprised. I have just come from a very unpleasant interview with your father.”
What little colour there was in her daughter’s face drained away. “Did he tell you that I am not going to marry Killin?”
“You made that very plain, apparently. Come here and let me have a good look at you.” Charlotte tilted her daughter’s face up, pursing her lips at the dark rings around her red-rimmed eyes, the greyish pallor of her complexion.
“Is he still furious?”
“On the contrary. I am afraid the duke is quite calm and completely set upon resolving your fate one way or another.” Charlotte ushered her daughter to the sofa by the empty hearth, seating herself on a chair facing her. Damn Walter, for leaving it to her to implement his heartless edict.
Across from her, Margaret sat with her mouth set. “I am sorry, Mama, but if my father has tasked you with persuading me to change my mind, then you are wasting your time.”
Knowing precisely what this stance would mean, Charlotte quailed inwardly. “What on earth possessed you to bring matters to a head in this way? You have spent the last six months trying to convince Killin you are willing to marry him.”
“And to convince myself to do so.”
“Yes, that, too,” Charlotte acknowledged. “So I must ask again, why now?”
Across from her, Margaret was studiously avoiding her gaze.
“Your father seems to think that Mrs. Elmhirst and her brother have something to do with it,” she persisted.
“He blames Sebastian for filling my head with nonsense. He threatened to speak to the Archbishop of Canterbury to bring him down a peg or two, to use his phrase.”
This was news! What else had Walter omitted from his account of the conversation?
“I couldn’t let him do that.” A tear trickled down Margaret’s cheek. “So I went to see Sebastian one last time. I took Molly with me. She tried to stop me, but I was determined. You mustn’t blame her. Please don’t tell my father.”
“I promise that nothing we discuss will go any further, if you will tell me the truth.” Charlotte waited, but her daughter simply stared at her, chewing on her bottom lip. “Very well, then. I will tell you what I think, for it seems obvious to me, if not to His Grace. Father Sebastian is the reason you are suddenly so dead-set against marrying Killin, isn’t he? He hasn’t influenced your thinking but your heart. Is that not so?”
Margaret’s lip trembled.
“You believe you are in love with this man,” Charlotte persisted gently. “Am I right?”
Another tear tracked down her daughter’s cheek. “I won’t let my father ruin him.”
“Your father doesn’t suspect your true feelings, and I promise I won’t tell him. Are you in love with this priest?”
For a long moment, Margaret stared at her, wide-eyed before bursting into tears. Dismayed, Charlotte moved to sit beside her, putting an awkward arm around her. Her worst fears, from reading between the lines of what her husband had relayed to her, were confirmed. There was no point now in trying to persuade her daughter to marry Killin. Curse Walter and his ultimatums!
Finally, Margaret’s sobs dissolved into hiccups and she lifted her head. “I’ve made your gown damp.”
“Never mind that.” Charlotte handed over her handkerchief. “Do you feel up to telling me a little more about what has transpired between you and this man?”
“What is the point, now that it’s over? I love him and he loves me and he asked me to marry him but I told him yesterday that it was simply not possible and we were deluding ourselves.” Margaret scrubbed at her eyes. “Sebastian finally accepted that my father would never relent under any circumstances, so I didn’t need to warn him that if we married, the duke would most likely have us banished to some foreign mission, which he would, wouldn’t he?”
Charlotte made no attempt to deny it, shrugging helplessly.
“I thought so. Sebastian would be distraught if he was removed from Lambeth. I would never be able to forgive myself if I was the cause of that transpiring.”
This was said without a trace of self-pity, nor indeed any sign of conscious martyrdom. Charlotte eyed her daughter with new respect. “That is very selfless of you.”
Margret began to twist the sodden handkerchief around her fingers. “I had already decided that I couldn’t marry Sebastian prior to speaking to the duke yesterday. I planned to let him down gently over time.”
“But your father’s threats forced you to act precipitately, is that it?” Charlotte’s heart sank further. “Oh, my dear, I cannot condone your behaviour, but I find it difficult to condemn it.”
“My father has no such problem.”
Charlotte braced herself for what was to come. “No, I am afraid he does not.”
“He doesn’t love me. He doesn’t even care about me. He made that very clear yesterday.”
And he had made it equally clear this morning. Walter didn’t value his second daughter at all, though Charlotte was beginning to think her vastly underestimated. Her heart ached, knowing what lay in store for Margaret, and rebelled at the unenviable task her husband had allotted her, but decades of dutiful obedience weighed heavily. “I am sorry,” she began helplessly.
Despite her best efforts, something of her feelings must have shown in her face. “Am I to be sent away again?” Margaret asked.
“I am afraid so.”
“May I ask when?”
“Immediately after the royal wedding.”
“After! But that is weeks away, and we are due to attend any number of balls and parties between now and then. Does my father intend to torture me as well as punish me? I would much prefer to go now, if I must. And what about Killin?”
“Your father will deal with Killin.”
“But how? When? If he tells him, and I am forced to remain in society, can you imagine the snubs? I’ll be branded a jilt.”
“I am sure that Killin will behave like a gentleman,” Charlotte said, with little conviction. “You cannot be branded a jilt, for no announcement has been made. Killin has his dignity to protect. . . .”
“He’ll make a point of snubbing me. Mama, please, don’t ask me to endure that on top of everything else.” Margaret clutched at her. “Please, if I must be sent away, I’d rather it was now.”
“I’m sorry.” Charlotte forced herself to disentangle her hand. “The list of bridesmaids has been published. You are privileged to be among them. You must ensure that your behaviour is above reproach over the next few weeks. We cannot possibly risk offending Her Majesty by removing you before your duties at the wedding are executed.”
“And after the wedding, where am I to go? Back to Dalkeith?.”
Charlotte drew a deep breath. “I have no idea where you will reside. I’m afraid your father has left that decision with me. Margaret, I have to tell you that he has washed his hands of you. Completely and permanently. He will not have you in his home—in any of his homes.”
I don’t ever want to see her again. I won’t even tolerate her presence in the same country as me. It would be too cruel to repeat those words. “There will be no reprieve, and you understand—” Her voice broke. She took a deep breath. “You understand that what the duke decrees, I must implement. All I can do is attempt to soften the blow.”
“How?”
“My dear, I don’t know yet, but I’ll think of something.”
“Ex adversis dulcis. Ex adversitas felicitas,” Margaret said with a sad little smile.
“From adversity comes strength and happiness.” Ironically, it was one of Walter’s favourite quotes. “I pray there is some truth in that.”
“I do, too, Mama. I’m very much aware that I have sorely tested your loyalty and I am deeply sorry to have caused you upset.”
Margaret’s voice trembled, but she held herself together with remarkable dignity. Tears sprang into Charlotte’s eyes that she made no attempt to hide as she pulled Margaret into a fierce embrace. “You are my daughter, and you always will be. Wherever you end up, whatever happens, you must never forget that.”