“Very well. We will put that behind us. I trust that we now understand each other perfectly. You have approximately two hours to regain your composure and to reconcile yourself to the fact that your future husband is on his way to make his declaration as we speak. I trust you will contrive to give Killin a significantly more positive response to his proposal than the one you have treated us to.”

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Montagu House, London, Wednesday, 19 July 1865

THE GARDEN GATE HAD BARELY slammed shut behind her when Margaret heard Lochiel’s alarmed voice calling her name from the other side. He would catch her easily if she tried to outrun him, and having made her bid for freedom, she was determined to hang on to it. In the ballroom her parents, their guests, and most of all the man standing on the orchestra dais waiting to claim her could go hang for now. There would be a terrible price to be paid for what she’d just done, but for the moment all she cared about was that she was free. She was absolutely not going to allow Lochiel to drag her back to face the music until she certain she could stand resolute in the face of what would be intense pressure to recant.

Margaret had never before ventured beyond the garden gate on this side of the house. As her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, she saw that she was standing on the actual banks of the Thames. Up close, the river smelled absolutely foul. She could hear the water rushing past just a few feet away. Momentarily distracted, she inched forward, marvelling at the sheer power of the tide as it raced in from the estuary, experiencing a wild, irrational urge to jump in. She could imagine herself, buoyed by her crinoline, being carried by the river, waving at Lochiel as he stood helpless on the banks as she bobbed past. His disembodied voice called her name again, yanking her back to reality.

Her pale gown was positively glowing in the dark. She had to hide, but there was nowhere obvious. As the gate creaked open, she reached the corner of the wall marking the edge of her father’s property just in time. He was still calling her name, for goodness sake, as he approached. She crouched down as best she could behind a bushy shrub, closed her eyes, and prayed.