Page 25 of The Baron Without Blame
“No.” Slowly, reluctantly, she peeled away from him. “I will go speak to my father.”
Northfield Hall was bustling when they reentered. The parlor maid who had been polishing the banister had left, replaced by two maids and a footman hurrying upstairs with valises. Footsteps paced the ceiling above, and Mama’s shrill voice drifted down with muffled directions to Norton.
Papa had meant it, then. He was removing them from Northfield entirely. All because Martin dared show charity to two lost immigrants.
Anger surged through her anew.
Lolly led Mrs. Chow to her apartment first and settled her on the settee beside the window. Then, closing the door firmly behind her, Lolly headed to her parents’ suite.
If she hadn’t known the context, she might have thought the scene she encountered a tableau of quiet domesticity. Papa sat at the center table, legs stretched as if to take up the whole room. Louisa hovered behind him, pouring dark coffee from a silver carafe. Opposite, Mama stood in her lace-trimmed dressing robe, casting directions to Norton. And Charlotte perched on a stool, examining the hem of her skirt.
There was no place for Lolly in the family scene. Nor did she want there to be. Not when it was predicated on her parents’ uncontrollable fear.
“Papa, I must speak with you.”
Even though impatience steeled his every feature, his face softened when he looked at her. “There you are.” Rising, Papa wrapped both her hands in his. The grasp was unpleasantly warm. “I’m afraid there has been a distressing change of plans. We have been disappointed, Lolly. Lord Preston is not the gentleman I believed him to be. We return to London at once.”
Papa was always the one to break bad news to her. When her favorite doll disappeared into the harbor. When her nursemaid refused to quit Boston with them. When Ned offered marriage to Ursula instead of her.
He knew just how to mold his voice into something soft and comforting. How to tilt his lips into a promise that the world would eventually right itself. How to offer love through nothing more than his touch.
But this time, all Lolly saw was his effort. She watched him draw on every skill, as if she were a puppet whose strings he could control. It wasn’t comfort he offered her, not this time. This was manipulation.
Pure and simple.
Lolly removed her hands from his grip. “I am marrying Lord Preston.”
“We will find you someone else,” Papa continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “Someone worthy of the Turner family. It will work out better than ever. You’ll see.”
“I am marrying Lord Preston,” she repeated. Her voice caught on her fear and tripped out of her mouth. But she said it. “With or without your permission.”
Papa stared at her. For a moment, his frown was sympathetic. Then it grew darker. “He has offended our family, and he refuses to acknowledge his behavior. I know this is a disappointment, Lolly, but you must trust that I am doing what is right.”
This was difficult. Worse than she had expected. Her palms were sweating, her fingers trembling.
She had never refused Papa before.
“Our family has no right to be offended. Lord Preston did the Christian thing in offering work to a couple far from their home parish. Their presence is not insulting. In any case, he asked me before hiring them. Last night in the garden.”
Now Mama fluttered over. “Do not contradict your father, Rosalind.”
Papa drew his hands behind his back, which he always did when he decided a conversation was at its end. Fear slithered through Lolly; she could suddenly feel how much smaller she was compared to her father.
Not that he would ever hurt her.
“You do not see the situation clearly,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument. “You are clouded by yourtendrefor Lord Preston. I do not fault you for it, but I must insist you pack your things. Once this is all behind you, you will understand why.”
A week ago, Lolly would never have disobeyed her father when he used such a tone. Even had he decreed they must leave London for St. Petersburg and never return. Even had he ordered her to chop off her own left hand.
That was when she had believed her father tried his best to do the right thing.
She knew better now.
“I already understand why, Papa. Your world needs order. You cannot stand when that order is upturned. You are lashing out because you are frightened of what will happen if you let kindness seep in.”
His face turned bright red. Lolly kept speaking before he could interrupt her.
“I am not afraid of that. I am afraid of what will happen if we are so protective of order that we stop helping those who need it. The truth is –” She hadn’t planned on saying this, of all things. But suddenly, she needed to confess it, or it would burn through her life. “– Lord Preston and I planned to end this engagement in a few months, once the scandal had blown over. I didn’t want to marry a stranger simply because he helped rescue my skirts from a balcony. We decided to say we were engaged so people wouldn’t talk. But then I learned what kind of man he is. Kind. Considerate. And brave – so brave, Papa. He isn’t afraid of losing anyone’s good opinion or power or anything, not so long as he does the right thing by the people who depend upon him. He is not concerned about keeping order. He is concerned about making sure every man can feed his own family.”
