What was happening back in the ballroom? Would Mama and Papa still be standing on the dais while confusion reigned? Or had her pursuer returned to report her flight, forcing them to send all their guests home? They would be utterly furious with her. If they had only listened to her. No, no, that wasn’t fair. She had not tried nearly forcefully enough to make herself heard. She had been too eager to please, ignoring what her instincts had been telling her from the first. They’d think her actions childish, selfish, thoughtless, undignified. They were unaware of the ongoing debate she’d been having with herself from the moment the match had been proposed, so her flight would seem like a bolt from the blue.

Her father would be cursing her. Why is it that you are capable of thinking only of yourself! How many times had he hurled that accusation at her? It seemed particularly unfair, given how hard she had tried to quell the rebellious little voice in her head and do as he bade her. But she had finally paid heed to that dissenting voice, and she could not regret having done so.

So what now, M.—go back and face the music? That would certainly be the sensible thing to do. Better to surrender herself than be marched back by a search party. But as she hesitated, she heard footsteps coming her way. Hurriedly, Margaret crammed herself and her crinoline into a narrow alleyway, screwing up her nose as her foot splashed in something she hoped was a puddle, even though it hadn’t rained for weeks. She could hear them now, talking. Not one man, but two? Holding her breath, closing her eyes, as if that would make her invisible, her ears strained. Not talking but singing a sea shanty.

When I was a little lad

And so my mother told me,

Way, haul away, we’ll haul away Joe,

That if I did not kiss a gal

My lips would grow all mouldy,

Way, haul away, we’ll haul away Joe.

The men’s voices were surprisingly tuneful. They staggered past her hiding place, oblivious to her presence, arms around each other’s shoulders, absorbed in their drunken reverie.