“You mean apart from the Houses of Parliament! When they built Victoria Street and the train station, they cleared some of the worst of the slums but, astonishing as it may sound, this area around Parliament and the Abbey is one of the most notorious in the city.”

“What about the people who lived there? Where have they ended up? I shall ask Mr. Scott—he is bound to know.”

Mr. Scott, the font of all knowledge, Donald thought dryly. They were in Broad Sanctuary now, and ahead of them at the start of Victoria Street loomed the Westminster Palace Hotel. “That is Lord Raglan’s statue over there,” he said. “What does your Mr. Scott make of him, I wonder?”

“Not much,” she replied. “He said that the Charge of the Light Brigade was sheer stupidity and needless slaughter dressed up as heroism. His words stuck in my head, and they were so very contrary to what Mr. Tennyson wrote in his poem. Since Mr. Scott was there, and Lord Tennyson was not, I know who I believe. It should be Mr. Scott, or one of his comrades, up on that plinth, not Lord Raglan.”

“A radical idea.”

“Ironically, Mr. Scott would agree with you. He doesn’t consider himself a hero. Genuine heroes never do, do they? Mr. Scott lost both his legs fighting for our country, but instead of bemoaning his fate he got on with his life. I want to be more like Mr. Scott: roll my sleeves up and do something useful.” Her face fell. “Though I have no idea what.”

She seemed quite unaware that marriage would in all probability put paid to any ambitions she had. Killin wouldn’t tolerate a wife who thought for herself, never mind made her own decisions. Besides, once she was married, with all the responsibilities of her husband’s various households to run, and the social obligations which accompanied her new status, she would have very little time to call her own. The thought was strangely depressing, so he banished it.

MARGARET EYED LOCHIEL DOUBTFULLY. “What have I said to make you look so sad?”

“Nothing at all.” To her surprise he pressed her hand. “Stay close now; once we turn into Dean Street we are quite literally entering another world.”