“My dear, we agreed we would strive to remain calm. For heavens’ sake, Walter, you know that would be quite the wrong approach. To engage in any way with the press is simply not done.”

“Why not?” Margaret dared to ask. “Why would it be so very wrong to contradict what amounts to libel? I don’t understand why that is so beyond the pale.”

Uttering an impatient oath, the duke pushed his chair back, striding over to the bookcase to pour himself a glass of his favourite Glenlivet whisky. He almost never swore. Margaret had never in her life seen him partake of strong spirits until after dinner, never mind before noon. “You explain, Charlotte, though why an explanation is needed—does the girl know nothing?”

Mama sighed. “It is not libel, Margaret, because our names are not actually printed; but even if they were, one simply cannot respond. To acknowledge that one has even read the piece grants it credibility. To defend oneself implies that there is an element of truth in what has been alleged. If you don’t understand that, at least accept that those in the public eye have no other option. If only the press had not taken you so much to their hearts last year . . .”

“That isn’t my fault! You asked me to endeavour to make a good impression. It’s not as if I deliberately courted—”

“‘A breath of fresh Scotch air,’” her father quoted bitterly. “And now you are most decidedly an ill wind that blows no-one any good.”

Clasping her hands tightly together in her lap, Margaret strove for a conciliatory tone, determined to say her piece. “When I was at Dalkeith I had more than enough time to reflect on my actions, just as you hoped I would. I can see now that my behaviour was selfish, that I should have put my duty to the family before everything else, and I am determined to prove that I am capable of doing so from now on. I am quite resolved to accept Killin, if you still wish the match to proceed.”

Though her mother looked gratified by this homily, her father was quite unmoved. “That horse has well and truly bolted.” He slammed his empty glass down on the silver drinks tray before throwing himself back into his chair. “Killin is an eminently respectable man placed in an impossible position. If the press decides the child is his, he is a lascivious cad. If not, he is a cuckold.”