The Woman from Paris(13)
“How do you feel about it?”
“On what grounds would I contest it? If George wanted to provide for his daughter, I support him. I’m sure he was planning to introduce us, and at some point he would have told me about the will. I don’t believe he meant to keep a secret like that. He didn’t expect to die, did he?”
Rosamunde saw the doubt in her sister’s eyes and was quick to dispel it. “Of course he would have told you,” she said firmly. “Roberta’s a greedy so-and-so.”
“I’m going to do what I think George would have wanted and ask Phaedra to stay the weekend. If she’s a Frampton, then we must welcome her into the family. I know Margaret will be horrified, and I can’t say that doesn’t give me a little pleasure, but I want to get to know her. I have so many questions. I think we need to talk.”
“You’re very generous, Antoinette.”
“Well, it’s not like George had an affair with her mother during our marriage, is it? I’ve worked it out—the dates, I mean. It happened before our courtship. Just before, but certainly not during. George wouldn’t have been unfaithful, I know he wouldn’t. He just wasn’t that sort of man, and he wouldn’t have done it to me. I’m sure about that. He wouldn’t have wanted to hurt me.”
“Of course he wouldn’t.” Rosamunde paused in her sewing.
“I feel sorry for the poor girl. It must have been a short romance . . .” Antoinette frowned, as if the effort to convince herself of her husband’s fidelity was suddenly too much.
“It must have been very brief and I suspect was over before she even discovered she was pregnant, which is why she never told him. She probably didn’t know where to find him, and in her heart she must have known that he didn’t care for her at all.”
“But she did know where to find him, Rosamunde; otherwise, Phaedra would never have tracked him down.” She blanched. “Do you think they kept in touch? Do you think Phaedra’s mother and George remained in contact all these years? What if he knew he had a daughter all along and kept her secret and only now decided to come clean?”
“Antoinette, you’re letting your imagination run away with you,” Rosamunde said in a soothing voice. “Listen, he changed his will just before he died. If he had known all along that he had a daughter, he would have included her in his will years ago. No, I think that Phaedra is telling the truth and that she came to London to find him.”
Antoinette was at once encouraged. “Poor George. It must have been a shock to find out that he had fathered a child. I’m sure he kept her secret because he didn’t want to hurt me. His love for his family was a priority. I know his intentions were good and honorable.”
“Oh, there’s absolutely no doubt about that,” Rosamunde agreed. “No one doubts his integrity, Antoinette.”
“What do the boys think?” Her face crumpled with anxiety. “Do they doubt their father? I’d hate them to think badly of him . . .”
“David and Tom want to honor his wishes, as you do. Josh . . .”
“Well, he’ll stand by his wife, of course. There’s no doubt who wears the pants in that marriage!”
“I do hope David finds a nice girl to settle down with,” said Rosamunde, changing the subject. “It would be nice to see the next generation of Framptons growing up here, now that David is Lord Frampton.”
“A title that carries great sorrow.”
“I can’t see David taking his seat in the House of Lords, can you?”
Antoinette climbed out of bed. “David just wants a simple life. How different my children all are from one another. David so laid back, Josh so aspirational . . .”
“He wasn’t, before he married Roberta.”
“Be that as it may, they’re very social. Out all the time at parties; I daresay they see something of little Amber. Then there’s Tom.” Her face softened, and she smiled tenderly. “Tom, so wild and so lost.”
“And now you have a stepdaughter,” Rosamunde added, rather enjoying the turn of events.
Antoinette reached for her trousers and sighed. “The irony is that both George and I so wanted a daughter.”
* * *
That evening Joshua and Roberta departed for London. Roberta planted a cold little kiss on her mother-in-law’s cheek before climbing into the front seat of the shiny black BMW 4x4 and crossly belting up. Joshua looked worn down.
“I’ll let you know when we’re meeting,” said Antoinette, kissing her son warmly.
“Yes, Mum, fine,” he replied, wishing the whole business of Phaedra and the will would just disappear. He knew he was going to get an earful all the way up to London.