“Without knowing all the circumstances, it is hard to say,” he said slowly. “I do not like to condemn a man out of hand. Sometimes between men and women… things happen, Bea. It is not always easy to be sensible when one is young. I wonder sometimes if he ever thinks of your mother now, all these years later, and wonders what happened to her, and whether there was a child, and if so, what happened toher.”
Bea was assailed by a sudden terror. “Could he… if he ever found me, could he… take me away?”
“No, absolutely not. There is no way in law for him ever to do so. You were born into my marriage to your mother, so I am your legal father and nothing can change that.”
“Thank goodness!” She tucked her arm into his. “You are very good to me, Papa. When Nellie Blenkinsop shouted at her mother, she was confined to her room with nothing but bread and water for a week.”
“What an excellent idea!” he said gleefully. “Or shall I just beat you until you submit?”
“And if I never submit?”
His laughing face took on a more intense expression. “I sincerely hope you never will, daughter. Always stand up for yourself and what you believe in. To be honest, I am astonished it took you as long as this to do so.”
“Well, I have tried to hint to Mama that perhaps I am not suited to a life of embroidery and ladylike pursuits, but she is impervious to hints.”
He laughed at that. “Your stepmother is an admirable woman, Bea, but her tenacity is almost the equal of yours. I set her the task of turning you into a proper lady, as she is, and she has worked diligently to achieve that aim. You have both worked diligently.”
Bea sighed. “She had poor material to work with, I fear.”
Her father shook his head at her. “Never say such things. The two of you are… different, that is all, but I love you both just the way you are.”
“Unreservedly?”
“Of course. I was very proud of you when you recited your Latin poem at Landerby. In such company, that took inordinate courage, but then you have never lacked courage. Do you want some dinner now, or shall I order some bread and water sent up to you?”
“I will come downstairs, Papa.”
Bea could scarcely believe how quickly the storm blew over. Papa was mildly amused by her outburst, and even Mama, who accepted Bea’s heartfelt apology with her usual grace, had a twinkle in her eyes when she murmured, “You were wrong about one matter, Beatrice. I did not‘settle for’your Papa, as you put it.”
Beatrice, kneeling penitently before her, rocked back on her heels. “But it was a compromise — you said so!”
“Oh yes, because one is fearfully unrealistic when one is young. Especially so in a family of high rank, like mine, so that one grows up expecting one’s husband to be perfect. For me, the perfect match encompassed three elements. Firstly, he should be noble, naturally, for I was noble myself. Secondly, he must be wealthy. And thirdly, he should be handsome and manly and…desirable. Well, when I married your Papa, I got two out of the three, and I discovered after I was married that there were other qualities in a husband just as important. Kindness, for instance, and generosity, and unstinting affection. And I still believe, Beatrice, that you could have all three, as well as the other important qualities, if you marry Bertram.”
“But he does not want to marry me!” Bea cried. “He does not want to marry at all.”
“Are you quite sure about that, Bea?” her father said.
“Oh, yes! He has told me so many times, and even if sometimes he may act as if… as if he holds me in some affection, that is just his kindness. Truly, he does not want to marry.”
Their dinner arrived at that point, and then Bertram in a cloud of anxiety.
“Whyte is still not here?” Mr Franklyn said.
“No, and I begin to feel he will not arrive tonight at all. I wonder what on earth can have become of him?”
“It may be no more than a cast shoe,” Mr Franklyn said. “There is nothing we can do about him tonight, so eat your dinner and put the boy out of your head for the moment. It will be time enough to worry if he does not arrive back at Westwick Heights.”
Bertram nodded and said no more about it, but Bea thought he was unusually subdued for the rest of the evening.
24: Lessons In Latin
Bertram woke in better heart. Mr Franklyn’s calm good sense soothed the worst of his fears for John Whyte. His disappearance would prove to be some trivial mishap — a wrong turn somewhere, a miscalculation on distance, or a lost shoe necessitating the finding of a smith or farrier. There was no need to imagine anything more serious.
Breakfast proved to be a pleasant meal, with only Bea and her father present. Bertram did not dislike Lady Esther, but her regal manner and unbending dignity were not conducive to a relaxed atmosphere. He could not imagine telling jokes in her presence, or speaking disparagingly of the government, as Franklyn did that morning. She often had a suffocating effect on her stepdaughter, as well, and Bertram far preferred Bea lively and bouncy.
That day she was full of the joys of spring, and when Bertram enquired why, she lowered her voice melodramatically and said, “What do you think? I am to be allowed to learn Latin after all!” Gurgling with merriment, she went on in her normal voice,“Papa has decreed it, and Mama has graciously agreed that it is of no consequence what I do, since I am clearly destined to be an old maid. No more netting purses, Bertram! No more trying to paint flowers that end up looking like some strange kind of fruit. No more aching fingers from practising scales on the pianoforte. It is glorious. Do you want some coffee? It is not very good.”
“You are not going to be an old maid, Bea,” he said confidently, reaching for the jug of ale.
