This morning she had been worried about becoming betrothed to two men at once. By the end of today, she would cut herself loose from both. Amongst the seething swell of emotions, a tiny flicker of relief glowed. Though the duke had forced her hand in terms of the timing, she had already made the decision to tell Sebastian she could not marry him. It was the right thing to do, and would spare them both in the process. Dear heavens, if her father could use his connections to force Sebastian to toe the line simply for encouraging her to speak up for herself, he’d likely have him banished to a mission in Africa if he dared to marry her.

Trembling, Margaret descended from the cab as it came to a halt outside the rectory, gathering together the tattered remnants of her courage. Whatever became of her now, she was determined not to be the cause of Sebastian’s downfall. It was time to shatter his romantic illusions.

“LADY MARGARET! AND MOLLY, of course.” Esther held open the door, ushering them in. “What a lovely surprise. We were not expecting you today. Mrs. Elmhirst is out at the children’s hospital, but Father Sebastian is in his study preparing for evensong. Shall I bring you some tea?”

“No, thank you.”

Aware of Esther and Molly exchanging a significant look, Margaret was too intent on the coming interview to wonder what it might mean. She had failed to win her father over, but she was determined not to fail here. She would persuade Sebastian that his future plans could not include her.

He was seated behind his desk, his shirt-sleeves rolled up, his coat thrown over the back of the chair. The sunlight streaming in through the window created gold highlights in his chestnut-coloured hair which was, as ever, tousled from his habit of raking his hands through it.

“Margaret!” Throwing down his pen, he bounded across the room to meet her. “How lovely. I wasn’t expecting you.” But as she turned her face, so that his kiss landed not on her lips but her cheek, his smile faded. “What’s the matter? You’re as white as a sheet. Are you ill?”

Margaret pulled off her bonnet and gloves, taking her customary seat opposite him. “I know it’s your busiest day, and I’m very sorry to have arrived like this without any notice, but I have something pressing to tell you.”

“That sounds rather ominous.”

“Yes.” There was no way to soften the blow. “I can’t marry you.”

“I know you can’t marry me now, but as we agreed, I’m willing to wait. . . .”

“Sebastian, I can’t marry you. Not now. Not ever. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t understand. What has happened to change your mind?”