“That’s the whole point: I will have no choice but to stand on my own two feet.”

“No, Margaret, you are being wholly irresponsible. When you have considered the matter more rationally—”

“I don’t want to be rational, Julia.” Margaret leapt to her feet again, smiling, spreading her arms. “I am the black sheep of the family, the outcast. Why on earth would I be sensible?”

“I think you have lost your senses.”

“No, I haven’t, I promise.” She took Julia’s hands in hers. “You have been so good to me, and so kind. Don’t be angry with me, please. Can you not try to understand—”

Julia snatched her hands away. “Think of the ramifications of what you are proposing, Margaret. It seems to me that you are deliberately choosing the most unconventional option, simply to thumb your nose at the duke.”

“My father may choose to interpret it that way, but I can no more dictate his thoughts than he can mine.”

“You are truly set on it, then?”

“Yes.” There was that fizz of excitement inside her again. The future beckoned enticingly for the first time in many months. The prospect of facing the unknown was terrifying, but it was also irresistible. “Yes,” Margaret said firmly. “I truly am set on it.”

Julia sighed, getting to her feet. “Very well, then. I suppose we must turn our thoughts to the practicalities. You will need a travelling companion for a start. You may call it serendipity if you like, but I had a letter the other day from my aunt Marion. She is not really my aunt—she is a friend of my mother’s who was widowed a couple of years ago now. She has no children, and her diplomat husband left her rather badly off. She is forced to live in genteel poverty in Twickenham but has spent most of her life in rather more exotic locations. If you were to offer to pay her return fare and take her on as a companion for a few months until you are settled, I am fairly certain she would leap at the opportunity. You need more than a companion, you need someone well-travelled and worldly wise, and Aunt Marion is most certainly that.”

“Do you think we will get on?”

Julia permitted herself a small smile. “In addition to being extremely practical, she is very outspoken and rather eccentric. I think the pair of you will get along very well indeed.”

Charlotte, Duchess of Buccleuch, to Lady Margaret

Charlotte, Duchess of Buccleuch, to Lady Margaret

Montagu House, London, 14 November 1867

Dearest Margaret,

I am at a loss to know how to respond to your last letter, which set my emotions in turmoil. A situation from which I am not yet recovered, I hasten to add.