She put the letter down. ‘The Elgins?’

‘Yes.’

‘I am sorry, Miss Brown, but no. I don’t approve of inherited wealth. These children do not need me. They will do fine without me.’

Miss Brown leant her elbows on her desk and steepled her fingers. ‘Lord Elgin is a decent man. He cannot help his birth into good fortune, but you can learn a lot from him and his family.’

Marion was not inclined to think so. ‘In what way?’

‘It is important to see all the colours in the rainbow, Marion, even if there are colours you really don’t like. Without blue, there would be no green; without red, no purple. Poverty and wealth can be brought closer together if one understands the other. Do you see what I am getting at? The wealthy can help the poor financially, while the poor can educate the wealthy in finding the small joys of life and humility. Isn’t that what you would like to achieve?’

Marion was thinking. ‘Well, yes … I suppose so.’

‘Good. Then I shall write back to the Elgins and request an interview.’

As prejudiced as she was, Marion had found Lady Elgin warm and welcoming at their interview. She clearly loved her children and wanted them to be well-educated. So, when Marion was offered the job, she spent two nights thinking hard, then finally accepted, despite her misgivings. She wanted to help her parents by paying back some of what they had invested in her own education. Her stepfather refused to take her money, but her mother accepted it gladly. She’d said with a grin, ‘Rob the rich to pay for the poor. I am all for it.’

Marion had soon learnt first-hand the interior workings of an aristocratic family and its household. Breakfast was at eight, with prayers and hymns, then the schoolroom for a couple of hours, followed by elevenses. The family had their drinks and small cakes in the sitting room, while the domestic and garden staff had their own bread and cheese in the stables or the stillroom. Marion was fascinated by it all.

Visitors came and went, dropping in at all times. One day the Duchess of York, who was married to the King’s second son, came to visit. She brought with her her two beautiful daughters: Princess Elizabeth, six years old, and Princess Margaret Rose, who was coming up for two.

Marion was not able to sleep on the train, or to eat the carefully packed sandwiches her mother had insisted on giving her. Anxiety, and a sudden bout of homesickness, prohibited both.

What on earth was she doing? Leaving Scotland, leaving everything she knew? And all on the whim of the Duchess of York, who had decided that her two girls needed a governess exactly like Miss Crawford.

Marion couldn’t quite remember how or when she had agreed to the sudden change. Before she knew it, it was all arranged. The Duchess of York was hardly a woman you said no to. Her manner was sweet and charming, beguiling even. Marion had fallen prey to the smile that lit the Duchess’s cornflower eyes, the merry laugh and obvious love and concern she had for her daughters.