your protection.”
“Papa, you just this minute threatened to take a switch to her,” Cecilia protested, and her father looked at her as if she had sprouted feathers and was squawking.
“What happened to my biddable daughter? I see you are taking lessons from your sister, when it should be the other way around.”
“I love you, Papa, and I am sorry that you are upset,” Cecilia began, but her father cut her off.
“Upset does not begin to cover the rage I feel at Beatrice and at Pennistan. If we were equals I would challenge him to a duel for his insult to my daughter’s virtue.”
“It was not his fault,” Beatrice insisted, but in a small voice that did not carry conviction. She cleared her throat and went on. “He warned me away more than once. Truly he did.” It was her own fascination that had been her undoing. “I never thought about the consequences if he lost his control.”
“How honest of you to admit that you are that selfish. You do realize that your behavior may have cost your sister her chance to marry well.”
This brought tears to her eyes. “I know everyone is upset right now, but I am praying that in time everyone will see that it was my fault and not Cecilia’s.”
“I want your promise, your word, Beatrice, that you will stay in your room until we leave for home, and when we return to Birmingham you will behave as your mother taught you.” He was angry still, and though he was not precisely shouting at her, his tone was hardly civil.
Bringing up Mama was the final knife in her heart. Her tears spilled onto her cheeks. She looked at Cecilia, who was tearful as well, her eyes begging Beatrice to agree. “Yes, Papa, I will come home with you as soon as you wish.”
“And I have your word that you will stay in this room and think about your failings?”
She had been hoping he would forget that. “Yes, Papa, but sir, I would ask that you speak with Lord Jess.” She stepped back, afraid of how he might react to that.
“Oh, I will speak to him, but if you happen to see him you will ignore him, shun him to the point of rudeness. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Beatrice replied without argument, anxious to make her point. “But, Father, there is so much more to the story of his involvement in Lord Crenshaw’s divorce. Cecilia, tell him that I am speaking the truth.”
Before Cecilia could answer, her father made a sound of disgust. “Good God, I had forgotten all about that.”
He had? And she was the one who had reminded him. What a dismal failure she was as a peacemaker.
“All the more reason to refuse to consider him if he does the right thing and offers for you.”
“If he what?” She understood the words but it took a moment for them to sink in. “I do not want to marry him if he only proposes because it is expected of him!”
“Enough!” her father bellowed. “You will marry him if I tell you to! Come, Cecilia, I do not want you influenced by your sister any more than necessary.”
Cecilia started. “Yes, Papa.” With a last look at Beatrice, her eyes spoke for her. I will champion you, sister, I promise.
Beatrice nodded, understanding the unspoken pledge. Her father and sister left the room, though his shouted words still bounced off the walls.
Stay in her room? She would obey him on that. Sitting down again, Beatrice did what any woman so estranged from her family would do. She began to cry.
“NOW IS NOT a good time to speak with my father, William.” He had stopped her in the hall. It was an awkward place to converse, but public enough. Cecilia tried to stop wringing her hands. “What do you want to say, anyway?”
“Did you not hear what I told you today?”
“Yes,” she said, staring at the marble floor, which was far easier than looking him in the eyes.
“And does the thought of me courting you fill you with disgust?”
“No!” She looked at him now. “But to declare yourself when it is one-sided is too impulsive.”
“Is it that you cannot love me or that it’s too soon to know?”
“Too soon,” she whispered. Someone had to control this impulsiveness. Between her sister, Jess, and William it seemed to be an epidemic around here.
“But not impossible?”
She knew her hesitation was a mistake. He pounced on it.
“Then I want to speak to your father today.