“The daughter of a Scottish man of the cloth, who has come to see what examples of our good works she can take back to Edinburgh,” Susannah elaborated, with a wink.

“An excellent cover story. One of your own making? Then you will be a welcome addition to Susannah’s Saturday and Sunday schools.”

“If I can manage to get away, then I would be delighted to attend.”

To her embarrassment, Margaret felt her cheeks colour under his scrutiny. Father Sebastian was not conventionally good-looking. His mouth was too generous, his nose too decided, but he exuded a beguiling natural charm. His hair had a wave that he made no attempt to tame with the foul Macassar oil that far too many men used to sculpt their locks. Though Susannah had informed her that he was twenty-seven years old, he looked boyishly younger. And, goodness, he had the most delightful smile and a way of looking directly at one, as if he was hanging on every word. Unlike some other men she could think of, who treated her conversation merely as a convenient stopgap to allow them to formulate their next sentence.

“Well, now,” he said, beaming, “has Susannah shown you enough of our little patch of God’s earth? Are you ready for a cup of tea?”

“Actually, Seb, I’m going to leave you to escort Miss Scott back to the rectory,” Susannah said. “I have a call to make just around the corner from here. Would you mind, Margaret?”

Would she mind! Repressing this unworthy leap of excitement, she shook her head. “The last thing I want to be is a hindrance to either of you. Unless you would prefer that I came with you?”

“Not on this occasion,” Susannah answered, to Margaret’s secret relief. “Mary Webb’s daughter, who is only thirteen, is with child. I have yet to establish the full story, but it seems she is too far gone for them to consider any form of drastic remedy. It has taken me a while to gain her trust. I don’t want to introduce her to another stranger at this point.”

“Thirteen! That is two years younger than my baby sister. The man responsible should be put in gaol.”

“The law deems twelve to be of age to consent. What I haven’t yet been able to fathom is if the child did in fact do so. Walk back with Sebastian. I shouldn’t be too far behind you.”

“It is shocking but sadly not uncommon, I’m afraid,” Father Sebastian said, as they watched Susannah hurry away.

“What will happen to the baby?” Margaret asked, eyeing the forbidding entrance to the workhouse. “Will it end up there?”