They were well suited, especially in looks, both being small in stature and sturdily built and Margaret, with her newfound knowledge of sexual activity, found the whole idea of them attempting copulation incredibly amusing. Their immense stomachs would keep getting in the way. Margaret teased Elizabeth relentlessly, making her blush and stammer.
“Oh, Elizabeth … how are you ever going to get your important places to fit together? You’ll both have to give up cream cakes or the marriage will never be consummated,” Margaret mocked.
“You’re … you’re absolutely loathsome … you’re just jealous because I’ve found a husband and you haven’t,” squealed Elizabeth defiantly, her happiness tarnished by Margaret’s snide comments.
However, the time drew near to when George had to take up his post in Edinburgh and Elizabeth wanted to go with him, as his wife. The wedding had to be arranged more hurriedly than Aunt Sarah would have liked and Margaret and Beatrice were to be bridesmaids.
The dress fittings began just as Margaret realised she was pregnant with no idea of who the father of her child could be, although she had a pretty shrewd idea it was Jimmy as her periods had ceased just after he left for pastures new.
As Margaret was pulled this way and that by the dressmaker, Aunt Sarah’s beady eyes studied her figure with a keen eye.
“You seem to have put on a considerable amount of weight,” she remarked.
Puzzled as Margaret ate like a sparrow, an appointment was made to see the doctor and Margaret’s secret was revealed. Aunt Sarah was tight-lipped and silent when her neice, pressed to say who the father was, didn’t dare to say she wasn’t certain but in desperation spoke Jimmy’s name. Uncle Arthur was openly hostile and disgusted.
“You are nothing but a slut …however there is nothing to be done but sort this matter out. We have discussed the situation with Elizabeth and George. You will remain in this house until they are married and settled in Edinburgh, when George takes up his professorship at the university. You will join them and after a decent interval, it will be made known that Elizabeth is expecting a baby and you are there to assist her. You will remain there until the birth. You will then return here and they will bring up your child and take it back to America when they go. We have discussed this at length and they are quite happy to do this. You don’t know how lucky you are, my girl. Most families would have turned you out.”
Margaret was suitably humble, just wanting the whole ghastly business over and done with. She felt ill and uncomfortable and the wonderful life she had been enjoying came to a crashing end. She had to endure the sight and sounds of her cousins, Beatrice and Elizabeth getting ready for the social whirl she had been such a part of. It was utterly galling and Margaret was thoroughly miserable.
However, the ensuing six months in Edinburgh were even worse, confined to the terraced house in New Town George had rented, with only the disapproving Elizabeth for company during the day, and she made her feelings very plain.
“I can’t understand how you could do this after all Mummy and Daddy have done for you,” carped Elizabeth daily. “You’re an ungrateful hussy … you haven’t even said thank you to George and me for helping you out of such a hole.”
Margaret took to thanking her cousin regularly, just to keep the stupid girl quiet … and then the day they had all been waiting for finally arrived. It was a long and difficult birth and it took Margaret nearly two days to produce a bawling, red faced infant son who was immediately whipped away by Elizabeth to the sanctuary of the nursery she had prepared.
Margaret had no real qualms. She had never been interested in children and was immeasurably relieved that all her responsibilities towards the baby were at an end. As soon as Elizabeth had managed to satisfy the baby with a specially prepared formula and there was no need for Margaret to breastfeed, she journeyed back to London on the train, not looking forward to returning to the custody of Uncle Arthur and Aunt Sarah but heartily glad to see the back of Edinburgh where she had been so wretched.
Uncle Arthur met her at Kings Cross and conducted her back to Kensington without a word but Aunt Sarah had been busy.
“We have a number of functions to attend in the next couple of months, Margaret. I have ordered new clothes, which I sincerely hope will fit you properly and I wish to make it absolutely plain that you are to attend these occasions with the sole purpose of finding a husband. The sooner you leave this house permanently the better … Beatrice is very young and innocent and I don’t want you contaminating her mind with your revolting behaviour.”
Margaret knew Aunt Sarah was right. If she could ensnare a member of the aristocracy, hopefully whose morals were as loose as hers, once she had a ring on her finger it wouldn’t matter what she did … but her future husband had to be someone with serious wealth and position. She wanted security and a title. Nothing else would do.
For once luck was with Margaret. Charles, the Duke of Canleigh, was in London on a brief visit and hadn’t been able to turn down an invitation to attend a ball held by his friends, Lord and Lady Balantine.
Margaret had annoyingly suffered a bad headache halfway through the evening and managed to gain Aunt Sarah’s permission and that of their hostess, to slip upstairs to a bedroom for a quick rest and wait for some painkillers to kick in, although Aunt Sarah did insist on accompanying her, reluctant to let the girl out of
