“Lizzie Pickford,”Joseph said in a firm, clear voice to an attentive audience that consisted of his father and mother, his sister, his betrothed, and numerous relatives, acquaintances, and strangers, “ismy daughter. And I love her more than life itself.”
He felt Claudia’s hand on his arm. He lowered his head to kiss Lizzie’s upturned face. He felt Neville’s hand grasp his shoulder and squeeze hard.
And then he became aware of an awful silence that overlaid the sounds of children at play.
19
The words Lady Sutton and Miss Hunt spoke cut Claudia likea knife. Though they were spitefully uttered, she was utterly defenseless against them. She had been terribly to blame. She had been walking with Charlie—ah, yes,with her betters—when she should have been keeping an eye on Lizzie.
But perhaps even more than personal insult and guilt, she felt a deep and impotent anger to hear her precious charity girls spoken of so disparagingly in their hearing. And yet she could say nothing in their defense either. Perhaps Lady Ravensberg might have done so and informed Miss Hunt that they were here by her specific invitation. But the Marquess of Attingsborough spoke first.
Lizzie Pickford is my daughter. And I love her more than life itself.
Anger and guilt were forgotten in deep distress. Claudia set a hand on his arm and looked at Lizzie in some concern.
Most of the younger children played on with the indefatigable energy of their age and a total unawareness of the drama unfolding around them. But somehow the noise they made only accentuated the awful silence that fell over everyone else.
The lame and pretty Lady Muir spoke first.
“Oh, Wilma,” she said, “nowsee what you have done. And you too, Miss Hunt. Oh, really, it is too bad of you.”
“Miss Martin’s schoolgirls,” the Countess of Redfield said, “are here at my express invitation.”
“And at mine,” Lady Ravensberg added. “It has been a delight to have them.Allof them.”
But everyone fell silent again as the Duke of Anburey got to his feet.
“Whatis this?” he asked, frowning ferociously, though it did not seem that he expected an answer. “A son of mine making such a vulgar admission in such company? Before Lord and Lady Redfield in their own home? Before his mother and his sister? Before hisbetrothed? Before the whole world?”
Claudia lowered her hand to her side. Lizzie turned her face into her father’s waistcoat.
“I have never been more insulted in my life than I have been this afternoon,” Miss Hunt said. “And now I am expected to bearthis?”
“Calm yourself, my dear Miss Hunt,” the Countess of Sutton said, patting her arm. “I am deeply ashamed of you, Joseph, and can only hope that you spoke in the heat of the moment and are already feeling properly remorseful. I believe a public apology to Papa and Miss Hunt and Lady Redfield is in order.”
“I do apologize,” he said, “for the distress I have caused and for the manner in which I have finally acknowledged Lizzie. But I cannot be sorry for the fact that she is my daughter. Or for the fact that I love her.”
“Oh, Joseph,” the Duchess of Anburey said. She had got to her feet with her husband and was walking toward her son. “This child isyours? Your daughter?My granddaughter?”
“Sadie!” the duke said in a forbidding tone.
“But she is beautiful,” she said, touching the backs of her knuckles to Lizzie’s cheek. “I am so happy she is safe. We were all dreadfully worried about her.”
“Sadie,” the duke said again.
Viscount Ravensberg cleared his throat.
“I suggest,” he said, “that this discussion be removed indoors, where those people who are most nearly concerned may be afforded some privacy. And Lizzie probably needs to be taken out of the sun. Lauren?”
“I’ll go ahead,” the viscountess said, “and find a quiet room where she may lie down and rest. She looks quite exhausted, poor child.”
“I will put her in my room if I may, Lauren,” the Marquess of Attingsborough said.
The Duke of Anburey was already taking the duchess by the arm and turning her in the direction of the house. Miss Hunt gathered up her skirt and turned to follow. Lady Sutton linked an arm through hers and went with her. Lord Sutton walked on Miss Hunt’s other side.
“Shall I carry her for you, Joe?” the Earl of Kilbourne offered.
“No.” The marquess shook his head. “But thank you, Nev.”
