“Some months. A year or so, perhaps. I expect I’ll receive my next posting direct from Berlin.”

“So this is goodbye, then?”

His gloved fingers tightened around hers. “I’m afraid so. Goodbye, Lady Margaret.”

“Lochiel, I hope . . .”

But the cabbie, grown bored with waiting, opened the door, cutting her short, and Lochiel let go his hold on her hand, giving her no option but to descend. “On to King Charles Street,” he instructed as the door closed.

Margaret lifted a hand to wave, but Lochiel had already turned away, his thoughts presumably preoccupied with his own future prospects now that he had finally rid himself of her. She picked up her skirts and hurried to the door which the footman was holding open, anxious to change her clothes before her mother could ask her any awkward questions.

The Illustrated Times, Friday, 16 February 1866

The Illustrated Times, Friday, 16 February 1866

WHAT TRULY AILS LADY M.?

The Lounger at the Club, with his ear planted as firmly to the ground as ever, has a friendly word of advice for a certain, most esteemed gentleman. The Duke of B——, who is currently busy in the House of Lords supporting an Act intended to protect farmers from contracting cattle-plague, would do well to concern himself more with the well-being of a person much closer to his heart. We fear that all is not well with His Grace’s second daughter. Titian-haired Lady M——, our readers may recall, left the Capital last summer on the eve of a Significant Announcement in order to recuperate from a sudden unexplained illness. The lady re-entered society some weeks ago, but while the Lounger can vouch for her seeming to be in excellent physical health, he cannot in all honesty claim the same for her spirits. Though fashionably slim, she has little to say in company and even less, alas, to make her smile.

What has become of Lady M——? Has the “illness” she rid herself of while in seclusion in Scotland come back to haunt her, along with a certain Scottish peer, who has been observed acting sentinel at almost every party she attends? Is the Earl of K—— afraid that his sought-after prize will once again be snatched from his grasp? Or are his assiduous attentions an effort to save the lady from a relapse? To prevent lightning striking twice, so to speak! The next few months will surely tell. I shall endeavour, as always, to keep you posted regarding any interesting developments.

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

THE HEAT IN THE CROWDED drawing-room was stifling. Charlotte abhorred musical soirées such as this. As the latest tone-deaf young lady brought her demolition of Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” to an abrupt close, the duchess joined in with the round of applause. Unfortunately, relief made her, along with the rest of the audience, overenthusiastic in their acclamation. Her heart sank when the young lady resumed her seat and began to rustle through her sheets of music.