“Yes, Your Grace. Excessive emotions are tiresome for all concerned,and in a school for young ladies they are all too common.”
For some reason this very reasonable point of view seemed to take theduke aback, and he started frowning at her again.
“You did say, Your Grace, that you did not want emotionalism?” Bethqueried, not above needling a little.
“Not exactly, my dear,” he said mildly. “I requested you to restrainyour emotions, but I did not wish you without them altogether.”
This conversation seemed to Beth to be a waste of her valuable time.“Well then. Your Grace,” she said tartly, “consider them restrained. Youare not likely to know the difference.”
A smile twitched his lips and to her astonishment he said, “I like you,my dear. More than my . . . my other daughters.”
Beth frowned in puzzlement. “Other daughters? You have a daughter here,Your Grace? I was not aware of it.”
“You are my daughter.”
The words created their own tribute of silence.
After a few heartbeats so noticeable she could have counted them, Bethstraightened to look directly at him. She had wondered whether this momentwould ever occur. Her tone was icy when she responded. “You do not, Ihope, expect me to greet you with filial delight.”
He paled. “I never knew of your existence until a few weeks ago, mydear.”
Despite her earlier comments, Beth found herself in danger of excessiveemotion. Fierce anger was stirring in her, but she struggled to remaincool. “I would prefer that you not use any familiarity or endearment withme, Your Grace.”
Beth knew nothing of her mother except that Miss Mallory had once beenher friend, but she had firm opinions on men who were careless with theirprogeny.
“So, you are not prepared to like me,” said the duke coolly, relaxingback into his chair and crossing one leg over the other. “As you wish. Doyou question the relationship?”
“I must,” said Beth equally coolly, though she was rather put out byhis acceptance of her hostility. She had expected more attempts atfondness, attempts she would have taken pleasure in spurning. “Though, asyou do not seem to be in search of a devoted daughter to minister to yourold age, it is difficult to imagine what could make you lay such a claimwithout cause.”
“Precisely,” said the duke. “It is a pleasure to deal with a rationalwoman.” His words, which would normally have pleased her, irritated Bethalmost beyond bearing.
“If you will read this letter,” he continued, “it will provide someevidence. You may then wish to seek further confirmation as to yourmother’s identity from Miss Mallory.”
Beth took the letter reluctantly. She had thought she had long ago cometo terms with her irregular origins and accepted the absence of parents.This sudden eruption of them was proving painful.
She read the letter slowly and found emotion again threatening hercomposure. Bitterness. This was the first thing she had ever touched ofher mother’s, and the woman was now dead. The tone showed clearly thatMary Armitage had always regarded her daughter as a burden and a duty.There was no affection, no longing in the letter at all.
Beth pretended to read long after the letter was finished, needing timeto come to terms with it all. “Even if I am this woman’s daughter, YourGrace,” she said at last, “how can you be sure you are the father?”
“Because of the woman she was,” the duke said gently. “She wasvirtuous, and if you detect coldness in that letter it is only because yourepresented a constant reminder of a fall from grace. When we know oneanother better ?”
“I do not wish that!” It was intolerable that this man read her heartlike an open book.
The duke carried on. “When we know one another better, you may wish toask me more of her and I will tell you.”
“I repeat,” said Beth fiercely, “I wantnothingto do with you, Your Grace. If you think to acknowledgeme and dress me in silk and jewels, be clear there is nothing I wantless!”
“I am afraid at least some silk and jewels may be necessary.” He smiledslightly, which made Beth inclined to throw a very untypical tantrum.
She rose swiftly to her feet. “You are notlisteningto me.”
“On the contrary, Elizabeth, you are not listening to me,” he saidcalmly. “Silk and jewels have a place at a wedding and that is what Iintend for you.”
Beth drew herself up and assumed what she hoped was an annihilatingsneer. “Of course you believe that all women seek only a husband. Well, MyLord Duke, I am a follower of Mary Wollstonecraft, and I believe a womancan and should live free of the shackles of matrimony and maledomination.”
He reflected none of the outrage she had expected and hoped for. Infact, to her fury, he seemed to find some amusement in her words, thoughhe replied to them seriously enough. “But even she, in the end, married togive respectability to her child. Could you not do the same? I would havethought you aware of the problems inherent in illegitimacy.”
Beth could feel herself coloring and hated him for it. Her livelydiscussions with Miss Mallory and a few other like-minded souls had notprepared her for this confrontation with a worldly and sophisticated man.“Since I do not intend to have children,” she said awkwardly, “the matterwill not arise.”
