“For pity’s sake, there is no child! That should be obvious to even you!” Hurt and angry in equal measure, Margaret jumped to her feet, determined to be heard. “Your Grace, it has been six months since you saw me last, here in this very room. I have had ample time to reflect upon my position in this family and my future.” Her father’s dispassionate gaze, still pitched at a point over her shoulder, made her confidence wither, but she held firm. “If I am still required to marry Killin, I will do so willingly.”

“Too little and very much too late,” the duke responded icily. “While you have been languishing at Dalkeith examining your conscience, I have been expending a great deal of time and effort pouring oil on troubled waters. And until that damned footman sold his story, I was pretty sure we had weathered the storm. Despite the very public insult of your jilting him, Killin had been willing to forgive and forget, but I cannot see him taking you on after this.

“As a matter of fact,” the duke continued, his voice rising, “I have no idea how I’ll find any man willing to have you, let alone one of note. You’ve put a stain that may very well prove indelible on the family name. Can you imagine the nods and winks I will have to endure now?”

“What about the nods and winks I will have to endure?” Margaret interjected. “Thanks to that horrible rag, everyone in London will be fixated on my figure. For all the wrong reasons, I hasten to add.”

Finally, the duke met her gaze and she wished with all her heart that he had not. His deep-set eyes, so very like her own, were like shards of ice. “You cannot possibly imagine that your feelings are of any relevance whatsoever. I leave you to deal with her as you see fit, Charlotte,” he said, getting to his feet. “I will play my part in public for the sake of our family, but in private, I want nothing more to do with her, and beg you will keep her out of my sight.”

The contempt in his voice was too much for Margaret. Though she tried desperately, the tears which stung her eyes leaked down her cheeks as the door slammed shut. “Why won’t he listen to me? It’s not my fault the footman blabbed and the newspaper chose to publish vile innuendo.”