Page 86 of His Arranged Duchess
“You’ll know when you see it,” Katherine responded flatly.
Glancing down at the topmost paper, Frances’s attention was immediately directed to a screaming headline, written in bold and underlined, crawling across the page.
Scandal Of The Century!
Beneath, a smaller headline explained a little further:
The Infamous Duchess Of Blackstone Is Not Who She Professes To Be!
The room seemed to spin around Frances. She was suddenly off-balance, staggering backwards, the papers sliding out of her numb fingers. Abruptly, Katherine’s firm hand was on her elbow, steering her towards a sofa.
“There you are, sit down. Just concentrate on breathing, my dear. In and out. It’s the simplest thing in the world, but the easiest to forget.”
The sofa rushed up towards Frances, and she landed on it with a thump which knocked the breath out of her body. Katherine’s voice seemed to be coming from far away, echoing as if she were speaking from inside a cave.
“The newspaper,” Frances managed, stretching out a shaking hand. “Give me the newspaper.”
Katherine hesitated, squatting in front of her friend. “Perhaps we should wait until you’ve recovered a little.”
Frances shook her head angrily. It was a mistake, as the gesture made the room spin even faster.
“Imustread what they have said, Katherine. Please.”
Biting his lip, Katherine wordlessly handed over the paper, and Frances began to read.
In a truly shocking twist worthy of the most sordid novels, it has now been revealed that the Duchess of Blackstone—once Miss Frances Knight—is in fact not at all who she professes to be. Miss Knight, the rightful daughter of the late, esteemed Baron Rawdon, has in fact lied to all of Society and those nearest and dearest to her.
Those of a certain age may recall the Baron’s ill-advised marriage to a young, pretty opera-singer, who currently holds the title of Dowager Baroness Rawdon. This unprincipled young woman, it seemed, cuckolded her respectable husband and bore a daughter—Miss Frances Knight herself—out of wedlock, proceeding to pass her off as the legitimate, Christian child of the Baron.
However, due to a source who wishes to remain anonymous, this newspaper has finally come to the truth. The source produced letters between the opera-singer who currently calls herself a Baroness and the father of the current Duchess of Blackstone.
Now, readers will likely wonder who the Duchess’ true father is, and this part is every bit as shocking as the rest of the tale.
According to the letters produced, in which the opera-singer wrote to the father of her child about it, the father was none other than Lord Matthew Montague, the older brother of the current Duke of Clapton. Lord Montague, as readers will recall, died in an unfortunate plummet into the Thames. As the heir to the title, he would have become the next Duke of Clapton, leaving the title to pass to his younger brother instead, Lord Cassian Montague. There is evidence to prove that these letters, detailing how she expected his child, were never delivered.
Whether the current Duke and Duchess of Clapton know of this scandalous tale remains to be seen. However, the facts remain that the Duchess of Blackstone—who may very soon be calling herself Frances Knight once again when her husband discoversthis sorry tale—has led a life of the most scandalous deceit, heavy with lies and malice. Born out of wedlock, she has no right to a place in polite, respectable Society, and certainly ought not to occupy her current place as a Duchess.
For shame, Frances Knight. For shame!
The last sentence blurred before Frances’s eyes. She let the newspaper fall limply from her fingers.
“The other papers all tell similar stories,” Katherine murmured. “Some suggest that the secret was hidden from you, too, and place the blame squarely on your mother. Hardly any newspapers use her proper title, and insist on calling herthe opera-singer, as if she hasn’t been a pillar of Society for close to two decades.”
Frances closed her eyes. Tears were pricking at her lids, coming close to the surface. There was a sort of numbness underneath it all.
The worst has happened at last, then.
“I’m sure you are angry that I never told you about this,” Frances whispered at last. “Mama told me of my true parentage when I was thirteen years old. It made sense, somehow. I had never felt close to the Baron. I think he knew that I was not his child, and I do not think he cared very much. It was Mama he wanted, after all. It was always the darkest secret. If even a whisper of this had gotten out, I would have been ruined, like I am now. I am sorry I didn’t tell you, but I couldn’t risk it.”
Katherine reached out, tentatively taking her hand.
“I am not upset, Frances. This business of your parentage… Well, it doesn’tmatter, does it? You’re you, and that’s all that matters. I couldn’t care less who your parents are.”
Frances gave a tentative smile. “That’s good to hear, Katherine. Thank you. I think perhaps that you are in the minority here. Most peoplewillcare about my parentage, very much indeed.”
“There’s a danger that the Baron’s relatives might try to sue you for your dowry,” Katherine added tactfully. “They will say that you had no right to it.”
Frances had to smile at that. “They can try, but my dowry did not come from the Baron. It came from the Duke and Duchess of Clapton.”
