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“Wells?” Mother’s eyes widened. “You traveled to Wells?”

Mr. Steele tightened his hold around her fingers, infusing courage within her when she needed it most. “I did. I would do so again, if I knew I was not risking Mr. Steele’s livelihood.”

“Whyever would you do such a thing?” Mother asked, coming to stand beside Father. Beatrice remained silent, her mouth clamped shut as she wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders. Her blonde hair stuck to her temples from the rain.

“I know my behavior was reckless,” Marianne responded truthfully. “But you must understand, I was under the assumption that I would never be allowed into Society. I was desperate.”

Disappointment filled Mother’s eyes but also the purest form of understanding. Marianne knew she would receive such empathy from her. Would that all her family could react the very same.

Beatrice remained silent, her eyes red with tears. Was she more disappointed that Marianne had not spoken with her earlier—or that Marianne had fallen in love with a woodcarver?

Father spoke first, anger returning to his tone. “How you could have risked our family’s standing with Society, your very future, is beyond me.”

“My future is standing beside me, Father.”

He scoffed. “You believe that I will allow a marriage to occur between you and Mr. Steele? I have told you before, you will marry a gentleman, Marianne, or no one at all.”

“Father, that is not—”

“Mr. Steele,” Father interrupted, looking him up and down. “I’ve heard your piece and Marianne’s, too. Now you will leave Daffley Park immediately, as you are no longer welcome here.”

“Father, you cannot—”

He turned on Marianne with sharp eyes. “No. I will hear no more of this nonsense.”

Marianne looked up at Mr. Steele, but he stared at her father.

“Are you so focused on what Society thinks of you that you are willing to set aside the desires of your daughters?” Mr. Steele asked.

Marianne held her breath. Father’s nostrils flared, his eyes narrowing as Mr. Steele continued. “You ought to be proud of being a working-class man raised up to be a gentleman, not ashamed of where you began. Now you turn your back on others in the same position as you once were—the very way many gentlemen treat you simply because of where you started.”

Father’s eyes flicked away, his feet shifting as his frown deepened. “You do not know of what you speak.”

Mr. Steele nodded. “Perhaps I do not. And yet, I know that you had the great opportunity to choose the direction your life would take. So why do you not allow your daughter the same liberty?”

Father blew out a disbelieving breath. “I did not sacrifice everything to have both of my daughters revert back to their lives in a lower class.”

“But, Father, surely…” Marianne paused. Both his daughters? What did he mean?

She glanced at Beatrice. Surely it was a slip of the tongue. Surely Beatrice did not…

Their eyes met, and the pain in Beatrice’s eyes reflected Marianne’s so clearly, the breath rushed from her lungs.

“You?” Marianne breathed.

Mother and Father exchanged glances. “Perhaps we ought to continue this indoors,” Mother suggested.

“I’ll not have that man step foot once more in my house,” Father said.

Beatrice’s gaze did not waver from Marianne’s.

“I don’t understand.” Marianne said. Had Beatrice fallen in love with Mr. Steele? Or was she referring to someone else?

Silence continued, and her frustration mounted. How could they survive as a family with such secrecy? Without communication and sharing the truth?

“Please,” she said, looking at each of them, her voice breaking, “please, someone tell me what is going on.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE