CHAPTER EIGHT

Daphne waited until the next morning to call her parents. She didn't want them to give an excuse of having stayed up too late or the time change was intrusive or rude. She wanted them to be alert and prepared to give her answers.

Behind her in the conference room were Brix, Major, Walker, Sebastian, Zulu, Tiger, Leif, Garr, and Forrest. Elena, Ellie, Mags, Maddie, and Em were seated to the side of them, along with Gabi, Gray, and Hazel.

The widescreen rang several times, then the face of her parents appeared.

"Oh, hello, Daphne. We were just speaking of you," said her mother in her proper British accent.

"Were you, mother?" she said with some contempt.

"Yes. We were wondering if you would come home for the annual fall gala in September."

"I'm married, mother. If I come home, my husband will be with me." Her mother stared at the screen, seeing all of the unfamiliar faces.

"Of course. I wasn't implying he couldn't come. He might feel out of place with all the aristocracy, but he's welcome."

"We won't be coming for any gala, Mother. Father? I'd like to ask you a question," she said thoughtfully.

"Of course, dear, anything."

"Were you aware that Mother lied to me about my health?" He stared at the screen, then looked at his wife.

"What on earth are you babbling on about? Really, Daphne! I think all of your American friends have presented a bad influence on you. Honestly!"

"Honestly? That seems an odd word coming from a woman who lied to her daughter and didn't provide treatment for her dying daughter," said Daphne, staring at the screen. Her father stared at her mother, then back at the screen.

"Daphne, what are you saying? Your mother would never have withheld treatment from Cassandra."

"She did, father. There were a number of treatments that could have helped her. Were you aware that she was showing symptoms as far back as twelve years old?" Again, her father showed no signs of having any idea. His face paled, and he stared at his wife once again. "You made me think I would have difficulties having children or couldn't have children, yet you continued to put the stress on me of having an heir."

"So what," she said spitefully. "So what if I did? We needed you to provide an heir, but not just any heir. They must be from the right background. I wanted you to think it was futile to attempt to find a husband when you didn't know if you could have a child. I wanted to be the one to choose the proper husband for you."

"Like her ex-husband," growled Brix.

"Young man, you know nothing of that incident. It was unfortunate, and my husband reacted too quickly, giving Daphne her way once again. If she'd just spoken to him, Marshall would have modified his behavior."

"Modified his behavior? Lady, you'd better be glad you're not in front of me. He beat and raped her for dancing with someone at her own wedding. What do you suppose he would have done to her had she wanted to work in a gallery or auction house?"

"Obviously, he would have refused," said Lady Bishop. "The wife of a man with his status needs to understand her place. And your boorish comment only solidifies that you are not the man for my daughter."

"Mother! Whether you like it or not, Brix and I are married, and we will remain married. Now that I know we can have as many children as we like, we'll be putting all of our efforts toward that."

The pinched look on her mother's face gave Daphne a great deal of satisfaction. Her husband was staring at the screen, then looked at his wife.

"Why? Why didn't you allow them to treat Cassandra? Why did you do this to Daphne?"

"Why? Because we are black! We are not from England, yet here we are. Your work, your efforts have provided us this unbelievable life we live. A daughter who was sick would not help us in continuing to climb the social ladder. We would be looked upon with pity. She would never have been healthy enough to marry and have children."

"Do you hear yourself?" asked Gabi. "I've met a lot of cold, uncaring parents in my day, but you're the worst. And before you even think to insult me, I'm a surgeon. A damn fine one. I'm not some pathetic American stereotype that you've implanted in your mind."

"You allowed Cassandra to die because she wouldn't be able to have a child?" asked Lord Bishop.

"Please stop acting shocked!" yelled his wife. "You told me to manage the girls and their futures while you were gone to London all the time. Well. I did! I managed it. You had a healthy daughter who married one of the wealthiest, most eligible men in England, and you gave in to her pathetic cries and whining just because he was angry with her. Well, it's not acceptable. Marrying that man is not acceptable." She pointed at the screen, and all Lord Bishop could do was shake his head.

"Woman, you are about the coldest bitch I've ever met," said Tiger. "And believe me, I've met a lot of them. Your daughter is not a bargaining chip to ensure your continued rise in the socialite circle. She's a beautiful, intelligent, wonderful human being. Anyone would be proud to have her as a daughter, and you can be sure we're damn proud to have her as a daughter-in-law."

"Lord Bishop?" said Zulu. "You haven't said much. You were obviously surprised to learn of your wife's deception, but you've said nothing else."

"I'm not sure what to say," he frowned. "I understand why she did it, but I don't agree with it at all. I wouldn't have allowed her to do this had I known, Daphne."

"But she did do it, Father. She did it, and if I had to guess, she probably promised Marshall that he could win me back."

"Obviously, that won't happen now," frowned Lady Bishop. "He would never take you back now that you've soiled yourself with that man."

"That's it!" yelled Hazel, stepping closer to the screen. "Woman, I've been quiet out of respect for your daughter, but listen closely. This family, this team of people supporting your daughter, has more class, manners, and aristocratic bearing than you will ever have. You've underestimated us and our family, and you've damn sure underestimated my son."

"Do you see! Do you see the horrid behavior you've married into!" yelled her mother.

"Horrid behavior? Why? Because I said the word damn? It's in the dictionary. Here's what I find fascinating. You are not British by birth. You're sitting there acting as if you have something to gain by forcing your daughter to marry an abusive, caustic, horrible man! You will have nothing to gain. The scandal would have come out sooner or later."

"No. No, it wouldn't have. Marshall assured me that he was going to take Daphne to their country estate, and she'd be kept there. No one would see her with bruises."

"You knew? You knew this was what her life would be like?" scoffed her husband.

"I would do anything to assure our place in society. You were lucky, Randolph. You were lucky that you were skilled in what the others needed at the time," said the woman.

"Lucky? I'm a barrister and an engineer specializing in oil and gas, Dierdre. I have made this country and its subsidiaries billions of dollars."

"You are a black man in a white man's world, Randolph. Do you really believe your skill got us here?"

"How dare you," whispered Daphne. "How dare you think that father hasn't earned everything he's worked so hard for. I wonder, Mother. What is it you're working toward? I mean, what do you think you're going to get out of this? You will never be more than Lady Bishop."

"You're wrong, Daphne. One day, I will be a duchess."

"Mother, you will never be a duchess. That is a hereditary title or granted by the King or Queen. Are you mad?"

"I am not mad. I will be a duchess one day. I don't think it would be wise for you to come for the gala after all."

"Actually, I do," said her father. "I want my daughter there. I want to introduce her husband and his family to everyone. Will you come, Daphne? Brixton, will you please bring everyone?"

"We will come," said Brix, looking at Daphne. "I would respectfully request that we not stay in your home, sir. I don't want my wife under any stress at all."

"I understand. I'll extend an invitation to the head of the auction house as well, Daphne. I know that she's asked how you were doing."

"Thank you, Father." She watched as her mother stood and stormed from the room, slamming the door. "I'm sorry, Father, but I'm very glad to know that you weren't aware of any of this."

"I assure you that I was not," he said. There was pain in his eyes, and he looked away for a moment. "I knew that your mother was ambitious, but I didn't think she would be ruthlessly so. I should have watched her, been involved more in the decisions with you and your sister."

"Thank you, Father. I'll let you know when we'll be arriving. There will be at least a dozen people, Father."

"A dozen or a hundred," he smiled. "I'll be happy to see you all."