“Oh, you know what I mean.” Margaret waved her hand impatiently. “You are a marchioness now, Frederica. There can be no repeat of the scandals you have indulged in before.”
“Indulged in!?” Frederica spluttered. “You make it sound as if they were of my choosing.”
“Did you not put yourself in those situations?” Ernest suddenly spoke from across the room, now having turned his attention to a cabinet full of crystal glasses. “Did you not make yourself vulnerable? You are hardly blameless.”
Frederica could say nothing. She stared at her father’s back, speechless.
Is he right? Am I to blame after all?
She thought back to the night when Lord Wetherington had found her alone. She had been foolish enough to think that her isolation would keep her safe, but it hadn’t. She had made herself into his target.
The Almack’s Assembly Rooms were just the same. Maybe she had gone with the intent of finding Dorothy, of ensuring she was perfectly safe, but once again, Frederica had made herself the victim of another scandal.
Allan never would have taken advantage of me though. He never would have tried to force a kiss as Lord Wetherington had done.
She wished to argue that it wasn’t her doing, but all fight or fire within her gut abated at once. It was as if it had been doused in ice, put out at once. She hung her head.
“No, dear.” Margaret abruptly tapped her chin. “You are a marchioness now. You must meet the gaze of the ton with challenge and pride.”
“Pride?” Frederica repeated, thinking it an odd sort of word to choose. “What about modesty? Being humble? Do I wish for the world to think I am turning my nose up at them?”
“Good Lord,” Ernest scoffed. “You have no awareness of your station.” He turned to face her sharply, his face like thunder. “To think we had you for a daughter.”
She leaned back, as if he had slapped her with the words.
“After all we have done for you — all the effort and money we put into your tuition, your governess, raising you to be a perfect lady, to be sensible of your position — and this is how you repay our kindness?”
“That’s how you see me?” she whispered the words.
More than anything in the world at that moment, she wished she was with Honora again, hiding in her house in Cornwall. At least there, she was safe. She was far away from this world of hatred.
She had thought briefly the day before that maybe under Allan’s roof, she could find that sense of being home, but it was not to be. Her parents had invaded this space, made her feel small and insignificant, as if she were nothing more than a shadow cast onto a wall.
“Maybe if we’d had a son, he would have done more to impress our position and status in the world.”
“Ernest,” Margaret said sharply. “That is unkind. We love our daughter dearly.” She placed her hand over Frederica’s on her knee.
Frederica considered reaching out and taking her mother’s hand and trying to find solace in her mother’s touch.
“She may be unlike us and a disappointment, but we still love her.” Margaret’s words made Frederica stand, all thought of taking comfort in her mother gone.
I am a disappointment to them.
She had a sudden desire to escape. Maybe she’d go to the music room or even seek out refuge in Allan’s rose garden. At that moment, she would rather be anywhere than here.
She marched toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Ernest barked at her. “Frederica, we are not done here. I demand you stop at once.”
Frederica’s feet stopped of their own accord.
It seemed after running away from them for a year and defying their wishes, a small old voice inside her mind had re-awakened. A voice that cried out that she should not disobey her parents. After all, she had disobeyed them enough. No wonder she was adisappointmentto them.
“Now, turn and face me.” His words were cold and icy.
Frederica didn’t turn at once, not until he spoke again.
“Frederica,” he hissed her name.
