“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.”