A Mother's Love(43)

“Be off with you!” resounded through the house, then a few seconds later the large black-clad figure of the Dowager Lady Frampton filled the doorway like a docking ocean liner. She floated there a moment, catching her breath. “Good, you’re here,” she said to Antoinette. “I need to talk to you urgently.”

“You look out of breath.”

“I’ve marched across the field.”

“Why don’t you come and sit down. Would you like a glass of sherry?”

“Harris is going to bring me one.” She marched across the carpet and lowered herself gently into the armchair where Dr. Heyworth had sat only minutes before. “I haven’t slept a wink for thinking of George’s illegitimate daughter.”

“A sleeping pill might help,” Rosamunde suggested, sucking in her cheeks.

“Good Lord, I don’t need medicine. I need peace of mind.” Rosamunde caught her sister’s eye but looked away instantly for fear of making her smile.

“I’ve been thinking about her, too,” Antoinette agreed.

“Good, I’m pleased you have come to your senses,” Margaret replied. “You see, I’m not about to open my arms to some random girl who claims to be my granddaughter. My son is dead, so there is absolutely no proof that she is who she says she is.”

Antoinette frowned. “Mr. Beecher supervised the DNA test.”

“DNA test, indeed! Have you seen it? Were you there when it was done? Codswallop, if you ask me!”

“She’s your flesh and blood, Margaret, whether you like it or not.”

“She was conceived outside wedlock, brought up in Canada—I don’t think a little bit of shared blood makes any difference at all. And I refuse to believe it. My son would have told me if he had fathered a child. I know he would. He told me everything.”

“Not if he was ashamed,” Antoinette offered.

“He had no reason to be ashamed. He was a very handsome man with a title and a large estate. It is clear to me that some ambitious girl seduced him and tried to extort money from him. Maybe she even wanted to marry him. Who knows? What we do know, however, is that George accepted his daughter only very recently. Why didn’t he accept her when she was a baby?” Margaret sniffed her satisfaction. “Because he probably wasn’t sure the child was his. Or because he didn’t want any further dealings with her mother. He must have decided to change his will in a moment of madness, or guilt. You know how generous he was. When will it be read? I’d like to know how much he has given her.”

Harris walked in with a glass of sherry on a silver tray. Margaret took it without so much as a word of gratitude. Sensitive to the people who worked for her, Antoinette thanked him on her mother-in-law’s behalf, although Harris was well accustomed to the Dowager Lady Frampton and would have been surprised to the point of shock to have received thanks.

“Mr. Beecher is coming here tomorrow at midday,” she informed Margaret.

“Good.”

“I have invited Phaedra to come, too,” Antoinette continued, in spite of the appalled expression on her mother-in-law’s face. “It’s what George wanted. She’s his daughter, and he included her in his will. It’s right that she should be here.”

Margaret’s jaw stiffened. “Then I most certainly won’t attend.”

“As you wish.”

“I think you’re very foolish, Antoinette.”

Rosamunde leapt to her sister’s defense. “Antoinette is simply honoring George’s request.”

“You know nothing about the girl.”

“Except that my husband loved her.”

This silenced Margaret. Her mouth twitched furiously, but there was nothing she could add. She took a long sip of sherry and swallowed with a loud gulp. “If she has any decency, she will decline,” she said at last.

“I hope she won’t,” Antoinette replied.

Margaret put down her glass and stood up. “Well, as you’re going to be unreasonable, I think I’ll go home. If you change your mind, let me know, and I’ll pay you a friendlier visit. But until then I want nothing to do with the girl, do you understand?”

“You’ve made that very clear.”

“Good.” She stopped at the door and turned back. “You can be very stubborn sometimes, Antoinette.”

“What can I do, Margaret? George chose to include her in his will. I’m only carrying out his wishes.”

“He didn’t expect to die so young. He may well have thought better of it later. He has only one grandchild, but in the years to come there will be more.”