Lochiel reached for her arm, trying to usher her towards the ballroom. “Come with me. Your parents and Killin will be—”

“No!” She pushed him violently away. Snatching up the folds of her gown, Margaret ran the last few yards to the garden gate. Heaving it open, she stumbled through, pulling it closed behind her, and fled into the night.

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Windsor Castle, March 1865 (Four Months Earlier)

YOU’RE HERE AT LAST!” Her Royal Highness Princess Louise jumped to her feet as Margaret entered the room.

“Oh, Lou, it’s so good to see you,” Margaret said, throwing her arms around her best friend.

As usual Louise stiffened slightly, bearing the physical contact only long enough not to offend, before she gently disentangled herself. “Sit, sit, and tell me everything. How are you?”

“Never mind me, how are you?” Margaret untied her bonnet and yanked off her gloves, throwing them carelessly onto a chair. “Are you truly fully recovered? Let me look at you.”

Louise struck a theatrical pose, turning her head from one side to the other before giving a little twirl. “See, fully mended, as good as new.”

Studying her closely, Margaret was reassured to find no trace of her recent illness in Louise’s enviably creamy complexion and sparkling grey-blue eyes. Her soft brown hair was as fashionably dressed as ever, with not a rebellious strand in sight, for Louise was extremely particular about her appearance. “I wish I had a modicum of your style. Even if I spent hours in front of the mirror, I couldn’t achieve such perfection. And you’re so slim. There’s not a pick on you, as my Molly would put it.”

“My waist and my age match perfectly since my birthday last week. Seventeen.”

“A claim I could not make, unfortunately, unless I was an old maid of twenty-five.”

“What you need,” Louise said, “is a dose of tubercular meningitis.”

“Is that what you had?”

“According to the doctor. Sick headaches is what I’d call it, but that wouldn’t justify the exorbitant fee he charges. I was very poorly, though not sick enough to persuade the queen to leave me behind at Balmoral.” Louise grimaced. “The train journey south was horrendous. They had to abandon me half-way, for I was too ill to continue, but I’m perfectly well now, I assure you.”

“You certainly look it.” Margaret flopped inelegantly down on the sofa. The little Scotch terrier which had been occupying the other end of the seat yapped enthusiastically and leapt onto her lap. She ran her hand along the dog’s wiry coat, setting his tail wagging frantically. “What a darling. So like my own precious Lix. I do miss my dogs.”