1
“You cannot continue to live in this house.”
Francesca’s hand froze halfway to the butter dish, the words hitting her like a blow. The breakfast room fell silent except for the steady tick of the mantle clock, each second stretching into eternity as she processed what her father had just said.
She turned slowly from the sideboard, still clutching the butter knife, to find both parents watching her with expressions carved from stone. Earl Holton sat rigid in his chair, his coffee growing cold before him, while her mother remained perfectly upright, radiating disapproval from every pore.
“Father, I may have spoken out of turn. I was not thinking.”
“Yes, you were not! And you have not been thinking ever since this child came into your life. So now listen to me and do notspeak.” His voice was deadly quiet, more terrifying than any shout. “You have done quite enough speaking for one lifetime.”
The disappointment in his eyes made her knees weak. She gripped the edge of the sideboard for support as he continued.
“London society must already be buzzing with talk of your declaration last evening. By noon today, every drawing room in Mayfair will be discussing the Watson family’s latest scandal.” His voice dripped with disgust. “My daughter, publicly claiming a bastard child as her own.”
“That is not what I meant, and you know it.” The words burst out before she could stop them. “Eloise is my late sister’s child. I was speaking of her as my own daughter.”
“As your daughter?” Her mother’s voice cracked like ice. “How dare you claim that poor child in such a manner? How dare you taint her with such implications?”
Blood drained from Francesca’s face as the full horror dawned on her. In her desperation to claim Eloise as family, she had inadvertently cast doubt on the child’s legitimacy.
“Your reckless words have now cast suspicion on that child’s parentage as well as your own virtue.” Earl Holton rose from his chair, his face red enough to burst. “The gossips will wonder whose bastard she truly is. Yours? Violet’s? A child that was clearly conceived outside of wedlock, no matter whose womb bore her.”
“This situation has become untenable. I have worked too hard to build this family’s reputation to have it destroyed by romantic notions about motherhood.”
“Father, please!”
“I have made arrangements.” The words fell like stones. “You will leave London immediately. I have accepted a proposal of marriage on your behalf to Laird MacGhee of the Scottish Highlands.”
The room spun around her. “You…what?”
“The MacGhee clan has need of English connections, and I have need of a solution to the problem you have created. It is mutually beneficial.”
“You cannot be serious. You would send me to Scotland? To marry a complete stranger?”
“A stranger willing to overlook your circumstances in exchange for certain political considerations. You should be grateful any man of standing would have you now.”
The cruelty stole her breath. “And Eloise?”
“The child will accompany you. The Laird has been informed of the complexities.”
Relief flooded through her, followed immediately by fresh terror. “I will not do it. I will not be bartered away like livestock to solve your political problems.”
Her father’s eyes went dark with fury. “You forfeited the right to choose when you chose scandal over sense.”
“I chose love over reputation. I chose to protect a child who had lost everything.”
“And look where that choice has brought you.” Her mother’s voice was as bitter as winter wind. “Ruined. Unmarriageable. A burden to this family.”
“What if I refuse?” The words came out in a rush, desperation making her voice crack. “What if I simply do not go?”
Earl Holton’s smile was cold as ice. “Then you may remain here, daughter. But the child will go regardless.”
Francesca’s heart stopped. “You would not dare.”
“The circumstances of her birth do not permit her to remain here with us. Not after your spectacular display last evening.” His voice was merciless. “The child will go to Scotland with you, or she will go to your aunt’s estate to live in quiet obscurity. Those are your options.”
The threat hung between them. Francesca’s mind raced, searching for another way, any escape that would not tear herfrom everything she had ever known or, worse still, tear Eloise away from her.
