“Seb— Father Sebastian and his sister don’t believe in dispensing charity but in finding the root cause of suffering and doing something to alleviate it. I have learned a great deal about real life from working with them. Enough to understand that I have a good deal more to learn. In that sense, you are right in saying that Lambeth has influenced my thinking.”

“In which case, your visits to Lambeth must cease forthwith.”

“Cease?” Her jaw almost dropped at this unexpected turn in the conversation. “But why?”

“Because I say so. Because I will not have my daughter roaming about Lambeth under the influence of a renegade priest. Because I shudder to think what Killin would make of it if he knew.”

“He doesn’t know. There is no reason for him to know. What Killin thinks is neither here nor there. I go to Lambeth because I would like to make a difference to the world around me. I thought you’d appreciate that, at least. Isn’t it what you yourself strive to do?”

“You dare to equate your feeble attempts with my charitable endeavours?”

“No! But I dare to suggest that there are more worthwhile endeavours than being the wife of a man who doesn’t actually care about me at all.”

“And there we have it.” Her father smiled thinly. “This wasn’t ever about philanthropy, was it, Margaret? It was all about you, as usual.”

Frustrated and furious, and most of all deeply hurt, Margaret struggled not to cry. He had no interest in her feelings or her wishes. She was his daughter, but he didn’t love her. He never had and he never would. Getting to her feet, her legs shaking, she was set only on making as dignified an exit as she could muster. “Excuse me, Your Grace.”

“Sit down. I’m not done with you yet.”

Trembling, she remained standing. “Perhaps not, but I am done with you. There is nothing more to be said. I am not pointless, but this discussion is.”

The duke eyed her with cold fury. “Father Sebastian Beckwith, do I have the name right?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Lambeth. He will come under the jurisdiction of the Archbishop of Canterbury, Charles Longley. It so happens I am reasonably well acquainted with him.”

“What has that to do with anything?”

“From what you’ve told me, the archbishop will not need much persuading to clip the man’s wings a little.”

“Clip his wings?”

“An Anglican priest, filling your head with nonsense, encouraging you to defy your elders and betters, to wilfully flout rules. Clearly he believes the teachings of the Bible don’t apply to him. Longley will bring him down a peg or two, get him to toe the line.”

“No! No, that is not fair! Father Sebastian’s methods may be unorthodox but they bear fruit. The people of Lambeth need him just as he is.”