Antoinette bit her bottom lip. “Did your mother love him, too?”
“He was the love of her life.” Phaedra flushed and lowered her eyes. “But she was not his.”
At that moment the door opened and Margaret strode in. “I’m going home,” she announced, ignoring the fact that she might be interrupting. She swept her imperious gaze over the solemn faces and sucked in her cheeks. “My goodness, has someone else died?”
“I think I’ll go,” said Phaedra.
“Let me escort you out,” David suggested.
“I’ll go with you,” interjected Julius.
“No, really, I can find my own way out. Thank you.” She turned to Antoinette. “I’m sorry to have barged in like this. It’s been very nice meeting you all, finally. I just want you to know that I loved him, too.” With that she strode past Margaret and disappeared down the corridor.
“Who was that rude girl?” Margaret demanded.
“Your granddaughter,” Antoinette replied.
It was Margaret’s turn to sink into the sofa. David handed her a glass of sherry, and Tom opened a window. “It’s not true!”
“He was going to tell us, apparently,” said Antoinette numbly.
“It’s absurd. A daughter we never knew about.”
“She’s from America,” said Rosamunde.
“From Canada, actually,” Tom corrected.
Margaret looked horrified. “She’s American? Good God, I have an American granddaughter?” Her face hardened. “I simply don’t believe it.”
“It’s been proven,” said Antoinette. “Ask Mr. Beecher.”
“Indeed it has, Lady Frampton,” Julius confirmed. “A DNA test verified that Phaedra is Lord Frampton’s biological daughter.”
“He’s included her in his will,” Antoinette added.
“He’s changed his will? Did you know about this?” Margaret rounded on her daughter-in-law.
“No one but Lord Frampton and I knew about the will,” interjected Julius pompously. “As his lawyer it was my job to arrange it. Phaedra had no idea he was including her until I informed her at the time I informed her of his death.”
“So she lives in England, does she?” Margaret sniffed.
“For the time being she’s staying at a friend’s house in London,” Julius replied. “Though I understand she’ll be returning to Paris shortly.”
“What does she do?”
“She’s a photographer.”
“Doesn’t she have a proper job?” Margaret snapped.
“Photography is a proper job, Grandma,” David interrupted.
“Does it make her any money?” Margaret persisted. “Or was my son keeping her?”
Julius hesitated.
Antoinette looked worried. “Mr. Beecher?”
“Lord Frampton was very keen to be a father to Phaedra,” he replied carefully. “But it is fair to say that the girl is very independent. She never asked anything of him besides friendship.”
“Really, this is all very odd,” Margaret declared, taking a large swig of sherry.
“What are we going to do?” Antoinette asked.
“Do?” Margaret retorted. “Why do we have to do anything?”
“Because she’s family,” said David.
“And it’s what Dad wanted,” Tom added, getting up to pace the room. He found it hard to remain still for very long.
“Well, I shan’t be doing anything about it,” Margaret informed them resolutely. “She can’t just turn up here on the day of my son’s funeral and expect us all to embrace her like the Prodigal Daughter. I don’t know her, and George never once mentioned her.”
“He had planned on mentioning her, Lady Frampton,” said Julius.
“That may well be, Mr. Beecher, but as far as I am concerned, the matter is of no consequence.”
The stubborn pursing of Margaret’s lips aroused in Antoinette a desire to be contrary. She got to her feet. “Well, the matter is of great consequence to me,” she said, feeling a sudden rush of empowerment as her mother-in-law let out a silent gasp. “If George accepted her as his daughter, then so shall I. I am willing to embrace her into the family. She’s a part of George and therefore a part of me.”
“Good gracious, Antoinette, that’s very noble, but is it prudent?” Margaret asked. “You know nothing about her.”
“I’m with you, Mum,” said Tom in surprise. “I rather like the idea of having a sister—and such a pretty one, too.”
“I’m in,” David agreed. “If it’s what Dad wanted. She’s flesh and blood.”