“What do you mean?”
Malcolm was difficult to enact any subterfuge against, but she had hoped he had come to believe her about their father’s debts.
“It seemed suspicious from that start.But then, after you left, I realized how absurd it was.Father would have never lent money to anyone.A few days after you left, I checked his study.There is no record of such loans.When you first told us of these loans, I didn’t think you would lie.I didn’t see any reason why you would.I thought, perhaps, as a younger man, Father had been more generous.Of course, that was all ridiculous.You planned some other way of getting the money.Sally must know what it is.And I want you to tell me.”
Beatrice had hoped her brother would not push her in this one regard.She said nothing, not sure what she wanted to tell him—she was not sure if he could be trusted with the truth.
“Please, Malcolm, let me handle it on my own.”
“No.I deserve to know.You left me to fill your place.How can I not know what you are really doing in London?”
She was standing with her arms crossed now.She knew Malcolm was a different sort of man than her father, but she still feared his reaction to what she had planned—what she haddonein London.
And her brother needed to respect her authority.Shehad kept Parkhorne Hall going all of these years.He needed to listen to her.Yes, she had effectively left him in charge when she went to London, but that didn’t mean he could order her around now.
“You are not entitled to know everything that I do.That is not your place.”
“Why?Because I am a bastard?”
“No.Because you are two years my junior.And because it is my responsibility to keep the estate going.For all of us.”
“Beatrice, you think you have everything in hand, that you know everything—but you don’t.”
“I have been gone not two weeks, Malcolm.What could have happened that I don’t know about?”
“I reference a happening that has been unfolding long before you left for London.”
“Well, then, out with it.What have I so neglected?”
She knew all of Parkhorne.Her brother could not possibly know more than she did about anything to do with it.
“Your mother,” he said.“And Mrs.Westmore.”
“What of them?”
Malcolm laughed.“You reallydon’tknow.For a long time, I merely thought you were being discreet.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Malcolm let out an exasperated sigh.“They aretogether.Your mother is in love with Mrs.Westmore and Mrs.Westmore with her.”
Beatrice froze.She wanted to say that Malcolm was mistaken…but she did not have that confidence.
“How do you—why do you say that?”
“I saw them kissing.Three years ago.In the barn on Mrs.Westmore’s property.They looked like they had done it before.Many times.”Malcolm shrugged.“Good for them, as far as I am concerned.”
Beatrice studied her brother’s face.He held no malice or ill intent towards her mother.She was sure of it.
If he was right, she had missed her mother’s relationship with Mrs.Westmore.She had missed the reason for her greater happiness in the last few years.She had not been able to know everything that happened at Parkhorne Hall.
“So, you see, Beatrice, I see things thatyoudon’t.And so I am worth letting into your schemes.”
Beatrice studied her brother’s face.A handsome one it was, although very like her father’s.He was so rigid in his principles, so firm in his convictions.She never quite knew how he would react to anything.
But she supposed, of all the people in the world, he was one of the ones that she trusted the most.
She sighed.“You’re right.Of course, the loans never existed.”
