A Lady's Forever Love - Bridget Barton Page 0,67

the area. She walked along the corridor and stopped outside the parlour. There was a meeting of sorts happening inside, and she heard her name spoken. She stopped behind the door, just out of view of the rest of the room, and listened.

“Lady Margaret will be staying indoors as much as possible, but I cannot allow this matter to get more out of hand than it already is,” her father’s voice came cold and quiet from the other room. “We are reducing our staff by half. You who remain here are the ones I deem most loyal and most willing to keep your mouths shut as you go about your business in town. If I find that there is talk scuttling from your lips to anyone in the village, I will be forced to take decisive action against you. I cannot forbid you from leaving the estate, but I can command your silence on this matter. Is that understood?”

There was a low murmur of assent. Margaret felt a wave of nervous nausea. She heard her father take a deep breath and then dismiss everyone. The servants walked past her through the door, only a few even noticing her standing there. She walked into the room when they had gone and stood for a moment in silence until her father looked up from his pipe and noticed her. His face hardened at once.

“Where have you been?”

“I’ve been in the village,” she said.

“It is beyond me to imagine why you would expose yourself to further ridicule by appearing in public,” he said in a strained voice.

“Isn’t it rather a confirmation of the rumours for me to stay at home, cloistered as though I have something to hide?” she countered.

“You do have something to hide,” he snapped. “You have the illegitimate child.”

Margaret took a seat, weary. “Why did you return so soon, Father? I had expected you to be in London for weeks. And yet here you are cutting down our staff and forbidding me from leaving the house.”

“I was planning on being in London,” he said slowly, through stiff teeth, “but that was when I planned to have a new position within parliament.”

She sat in silence for a moment, his meaning coming on her slowly and painfully. “You did not gain the position after all?” she asked. “I was certain that it would happen. Everything seemed to be in your favour.”

“True,” he said sharply. “Everything was in my favour, Margaret, a few weeks ago. That was before my only daughter exposed herself as a wanton woman by taking in and raising a child without a father.”

Margaret shook her head. “You know full well that Penelope is Molly Smith’s daughter, not mine. You know that I am not a wanton woman. You know that I am telling the truth –”

“But they don’t!” he cried, hurling his pipe to the ground and standing in a rage, his fists clenched at his side. “Everyone in London believes the scandal sheets. Everyone in London has already made up their minds about you, and for all their moralising they cannot allow a man like myself to hold office when my own daughter is flying in the face of their conventions.”

“Father, if you know me to be speaking the truth, why do you not defend me?” she asked, brokenhearted at the injustice and feeling ashamed despite herself that all this had ruined her father’s hopes and dreams within parliament.

“Don’t you think I have tried?” The anger drained from his voice and he sank back down into his chair, a shell of a man. “I have gone to every person of power and authority. I have argued your case, and I have spoken in your defence. But your own actions continue to speak against the truth that I try to share. I tell them you are innocent, and yet you will not give the child up. To them, it is a confirmation that you care for her with a mother’s love.”

“It is only love,” Margaret said quietly. “I am moved by Penelope’s plight. That is no reason to suspect me of her parentage.”

“It is to them,” he said. “Margaret, you have to send her away.” His voice was weak. “I know that you have argued against this for some time, but the matter is quite serious now. If you do not send her away, the situation will worsen to the point where you yourself will have to go as well. It may already be that bad.”

“You cannot be serious,”

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