“Or with a daughter wishing to help augment her family’s fortunes,” her mother replied tartly. “It is because both of these aims can be satisfied that this match is such an advantageous one. All you have to do is apply yourself diligently, as Victoria did, when she married Kerr. The proof of the pudding, so to speak, is that she is now expecting an interesting event. If you put your mind to it, I am sure that you could come to care for Killin as a wife ought.”

“If Victoria can do it, so can I.”

Her mother studied her silently for a moment before nodding. “Very well. Once these allegations have been shown to be vindictive mischief-making I am confident that between us, you and I can bring Killin round. Provided, of course, that they can be demonstrated to be arrant nonsense.” The duchess got to her feet and made her way to the window, which faced out onto Whitehall. “I am obliged to obtain your assurance on that.”

“Mama, really! You shouldn’t need to ask.”

“Spare me the indignation and tell me in plain terms what happened. One cannot blame that blasted footman for drawing the conclusions he did. Anyone who saw you that night would have thought the same.”

“My gown was torn when I hid in the bushes.”

“Why did you feel obliged to hide in the bushes?”

Damn and blast! I can’t betray Lochiel. “There were two sailors,” Margaret said, grasping at this partial truth. “They were singing. I thought they sounded drunk, so I hid.”

“Good heavens.”

Mama continued to look out of the window. The urge to blurt out the whole truth was strong, she longed to wipe the slate clean, but trying to imagine her mother’s reaction when she heard that Margaret had been exchanging confidences with Fraser Scott and was escorted home by another male guest at the ball—no. The Morning Post had made something vile out of the scant details it had obtained; what anyone would make of the real truth didn’t bear thinking about. Anyway, she wouldn’t embroil Lochiel in the debacle, not when he’d acted so nobly and gone to such lengths. . . .

“Oh my goodness, I completely forgot!” With a mental apology to the man who had gone to the trouble of retrieving the bracelet and sending it express to Dalkeith, Margaret took the item from her pocket. “It was when I was hiding that I must have lost this. I took the opportunity to look for it the other day while I was awaiting your arrival. I couldn’t believe my luck when I found it.” She offered a silent prayer of contrition for this necessary white lie.

“My bracelet! My goodness, I thought I had lost it forever.”

“The catch . . .”