“Then what is it?” His smile faded. “Don’t you want to marry me?”

If only she had explained her situation earlier. “It’s what I want more than anything, but it’s simply not possible. My parents would never give their consent.”

“When they grasp the depth of our feelings—”

“Feelings have no relevance in my parents’ world.” The difference between that world and Sebastian’s was a chasm he had no concept of. “Marriage is about wealth, connections, status.”

“And I possess none of those attributes,” Sebastian said wryly. “Very well, if they will not give their consent, then we will simply have to wait until you are of age.”

“That is almost a year and a half away.”

“I would wait twice as long if I had to,” he said, kissing her hand. “I do not lack occupation. If it must be so, the time will pass in the blink of an eye.”

For him, but what about her? Didn’t he understand that she would be consigned to solitary confinement for the duration? No, how could he, when she had never explained the reality of her situation! Gathering her courage in both hands, Margaret prepared to enlighten him. “We never discuss my family.”

“That’s because I am only interested in you, not them.”

“I know.” She lifted his hand to her cheek. “That is one of the wonderful things about you, but I can’t discard them like an old pair of shoes.”

“Indeed, and I’m not asking you to do any such thing.”

“No, but the shoe would be on the other foot, so to speak. What I mean is, they would discard me. You see, as far as my father is concerned, my only purpose in life is to make a good match.”

“And a lowly Anglican priest won’t pass muster, is that what you are saying?”

Imagining what her father would make of Sebastian made Margaret shudder. “My father has already selected the Earl of Killin as a suitable husband for me.”

“You are already engaged!” Sebastian dropped her hand.

“The betrothal has not been formalised. It was almost announced last year, but—”

“Last year!”

“But I ran off before it could be. It caused a terrible scandal that I am only now recovering from.”

“I don’t understand. Are you telling me that your parents are trying to force you into a marriage against your will? That would indeed be a scandal.”

“No, it’s not like that. They are not forcing me. I want to marry him. At least I want to want to marry him.” She broke off, realising how ridiculous she sounded.

“Are you or are you not betrothed to another man?”

“No,” she whispered, scarlet with mortification, “but it is generally understood that I will be, before the end of the summer.”