But the duke tapped his pen on the blotter, regarding her with infuriating calm. “That is as may be. What they certainly don’t need is you. The best and only way you can demonstrate your usefulness is by marrying Killin.”

In the folds of her gown, her fists were clenched. She willed her tears to remain unshed. “For the last time, I am not marrying Killin.”

“You will cease your visits to Lambeth, and you will marry Killin before this year is out. Do. You. Understand?”

Clearly. Horribly. Painfully. “I understand that nothing I say will make a difference,” she threw at him, “but I’m not marrying Killin. Not now, not ever.”

Sick to her stomach, Margaret fled.

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

THE SUNDAY STREETS WERE EERILY quiet on the familiar route to Lambeth. Molly’s protests about this sudden trip had melted in the face of Margaret’s stony-faced determination. Her father would doubtless put her unexplained absence down to a childish tantrum if he actually inquired about her whereabouts, which was highly unlikely. What her mother would make of her behaviour she had no idea, nor could she care right now. Given the outcome of the conversation she had just had with her father, she needed to speak to Sebastian without delay.

The best and only way you can demonstrate your usefulness is by marrying Killin. The duke’s words rang in her ears as the hackney carriage rattled over the cobble-stones. She had spent her life trying to please her father. She had twisted and turned herself inside out trying to be the daughter he wanted. When he appeared cruel, she’d convinced herself he knew better than she. When he was cold, she’d told herself she hadn’t earned his affection. When he told her she was pointless and selfish, she had tried to change. She had changed, but it hadn’t made any difference. He didn’t love her. He wasn’t even fond of her. If he hated her, at least she would have provoked an emotion, but he had swatted her away like an annoyingly persistent insect. He was completely indifferent to the turmoil his cruel words had created, and the hurt. He was heartless. But she was not. There was no time now for her to gently persuade Sebastian that the idea of their marrying was an impossible dream; she had to act immediately before her father threatened that which was most precious to his heart: his Lambeth vocation.