EPISODE NINETY NINE A REPUTATION LIKE A CESSPIT

EPISODE NINETY NINE

A REPUTATION LIKE A CESSPIT

D aisy could scarcely believe that her elderly father engaged in activities that would lead to a child, let alone a child born to a woman other than her mother. Excuse me?

The first such child arrived within a month of your birth. Did you never wonder why you had no siblings? Why your father had no heir? Why he resides with us only rarely?

Frankly, Daisy had been under the impression that her parents heartily disliked each other, which would naturally curtail the arrival of more children.

Suppressing my maternal instincts, I never allowed the man into my bed again. Her mother raised her chin, looking like the marble statue of Queen Britannia in front of St. Paul s Cathedral, ready to martyr herself for her nation. I sacrificed the siblings you might have had in order to protect both of us from the ignominy of your father s character.

My goodness. The baby was tugging at her hair, so Daisy began disentangling her fingers. I never longed for siblings, given that Livie grew up with me in the nursery.

Livie s mother, my sister-in-law, is a version of my husband. No one knows who Livie s father is, but it was certainly not Sir Tyron.

Daisy gasped. But you told Livie-

I lied to Livie, her mother snapped. Your cousin would likely have turned down a perfectly good proposal on the grounds of her illegitimacy. I am surrounded by degenerates. My detestable brother married one, and I married another. She sat down in an armchair with a thump, as if her knees suddenly gave way.

I m so sorry. Daisy hesitated. I gather that I have sisters or brothers, other than this one?

They are not your sisters or brothers, her mother said, her voice grating. They are by-blows of your father s. Like everything unpleasant in his life, they are left for me to get rid of. She raised a hand. Don t look at me like that, Daisy!

I am not looking at you in any particular fashion, Daisy said, nestling the baby more snugly into the crook of her arm. It s just hard to understand.

I do not hold with blaming the child, but neither will I raise my husband s bastards under my roof. Lady Wharton s shoulders slumped. That s why I took in Livie. I could save one such child. I raised her far from her dissolute mother, and Livie s sweet nature and excellent marriage have rewarded all my efforts.

Daisy s hands trembled as she wrapped the blanket closer around her sister s legs-because the little girl was her sister. A sudden memory came back to her: a childhood blanket, soft pale pink wool with a silk border. I had a blanket like this, didn t I?

I expect, her mother said dismissively. I hope you re not making the mistake of thinking that the child s mother is indigent, Daisy. I m certain that she profited from your father s attention.

What happened to the other children? Daisy was barely able to choke out the question, but she had to know.

I sent them to the Chelsea Orphanage, accompanied by fifty pounds each for maintenance, and I will do the same with this one, her mother said heavily. If the child is not adopted by the age of seven, I shall pay another fifty pounds to the Asylum for Female Orphans established by Sir John Fielding, where she will be taught a decent trade.

At seven?

Daisy pulled the child closer, cuddling her protectively. Her mind was reeling. The baby s mother will miss her dreadfully. Wouldn t it be better to give her money so she might raise her daughter herself?

The child is old enough to be weaned, so her mother brought it here, knowing that we would ensure her daughter had a better life than her own-just as I removed Livie from her home, and for the same reason, Lady Wharton added, more gently.

Daisy swallowed hard. She and her cousin had always been told that Livie s mother was too ill to raise her daughter.

That child s mother is likely a resident of one of the better sort of brothels. To the best of my knowledge, your father does not parley with nightwalkers.

Nightwalkers?

Women who walk the streets of London at night. You seem to know the definition of a brothel, Daisy, which affirms my belief that-

But Father lives in the country! Daisy interrupted.

Lord Wharton also has a London residence, her mother stated, her expression suggesting that she had caught the whiff of a sewer. He maintains a bachelor apartment in the Albany. I pay him to live apart from us, and I gather he finds the company of similarly debauched men to be congenial.

Daisy felt this revelation like a physical blow. How can that be? she breathed. Father has an apartment in town? We see him so rarely.

He dislikes society, and society dislikes him. I dislike him. He, on the other hand, never met a courtesan whom he didn t like, which has led to at least three or four children born out of wedlock.

The baby caught Daisy s hair again, so she used that as an excuse not to look up. She couldn t be surprised by the fact that her father s aversion to polite society extended to his only legitimate daughter. She saw him rarely even when they visited the country, and he d never hidden how irritating he found her chatter.

Your father s reluctance to accept his responsibilities has nothing to do with you, Daisy, her mother said. He loves you as much as he is capable, but he has never grown up. Think of him as perpetually young, convinced that the world will take care of any problems that come his way.

Obviously, the world was Lady Wharton. No wonder her mother was so embittered.

That child s name, by the way, is likely Belle, as I see it embroidered onto her blanket. I suppose her mother is one of the Frenchwomen who escaped the war in Paris. I understand that the better brothels employ hussies from that country.

The words filtered into Daisy s head and then came into focus like a slap of cold water to the face. Her mother s disdain for women fleeing a war-torn country set her teeth on edge, but she put that aside for the moment.

Do you think more children have been born who were not brought to this doorstep?

Almost certainly. I consider it a great misfortune that Lord Wharton s hair color breeds so true. Anyone who saw that child in proximity to you would recognize your common features.

Belle squealed, catching another lock of Daisy s white-blonde hair and chortling as strands ran through her chubby fingers.

You needn t look so woebegone, her mother observed. Why do you think I don t allow dissolute old men to propose to you? As a girl, I was fooled by Lord Wharton, but I quickly learned that he had married me only to repair his estate, a fact that did not translate to loyalty on his part. Younger men are more malleable. You may not be able to command fidelity, but the fact that I will leave you my estate should ensure reasonable civility.

I see.

I am always looking out for your best interests. The last thing I want is for you to end up in a situation like mine. Lady Wharton s voice rasped. I have rejected all men who resemble your father, such as Lord Devin.

Daisy s head swung up. What about Lord Devin?

Older than you and a reputation like a cesspit, her mother said promptly. Thoroughly debauched. He regularly frequents places of ill repute.

Truly? Daisy asked weakly, though she already knew that to be true. Miles hadn t been wearing a mask at the Rothingale masquerade. He had been prowling around the ballroom, boldly looking for a night s entertainment.

I had to tell him to cut his friendship with Lord Rothingale, a lecherous miscreant who attempted to elope with the man s own sister! It shows Lord Devin s disdain for civilized behavior, given that a woman who is not even a relative had to point out such a salient fact.

Wait, Daisy said, the context suddenly dawning on her. Are you saying that Lord Devin offered to marry me?

Only because he witnessed your ripped gown. I ll give him that-he responded as a gentleman and showed up the following morning with a lackluster proposal. I turned him down, of course. I will never countenance you ending up in a marriage like mine. If only my mother had cared for me as I care for you!

You shouldn t have refused him, Daisy blurted out. At the very least, you should have let me know that he had proposed.

Her mother s lip curled. What if you had been seduced by his rakish ways? Do you want your marriage to include the odd baby dropped on your doorstep?

I should have liked to make the choice.

Once upon a time, I made a choice between an urbane, sophisticated older man and a fresh-faced puppy

Her mother went on, but Daisy stopped listening. Miles had proposed to her. She felt again the heat of his body behind her, the desire in his eyes, the temptation in his deep voice.

A sharp contrast to the indifferent, sardonic glances she had received from him in the last weeks.

Happiness welled up in her-and dissipated just as quickly. She truly didn t want to marry a man whose children were sprinkled around the country like unwanted kittens. With a shiver, she realized that Belle s existence implied that discarded children could be found everywhere, one of the many secrets kept from young ladies.

Looking down at her sister, she decided that her infatuation with Lord Devin was over. As dead as her innocence.

Therefore, I refused his request for your hand, Lady Wharton concluded.

Mother, I cannot relinquish Belle to an orphanage. She is my sister. Daisy leaned down to kiss the baby s forehead. The baby had stuck her thumb in her mouth, but she took it out and gave Daisy a sunny smile.

Nonsense, her mother snapped. Use your head, Daisy! I know you re impulsive but try not to be so foolish. That child looks just like you. Your suitors will dissolve into air like cloud castles if gossip spreads about her parentage. Since we were excluded from society last year, we can t point to your ongoing presence at social events to protect your reputation.

We could tell the truth, Daisy suggested.

Tell the truth? Her mother s voice rose. That my innocent daughter is sheltering a doxy s offspring? She let out a fierce bark of laughter. At least now people assume that your father and I are merely ill-disposed to live together, not that he blatantly betrays his marriage vows on a weekly basis.

We could hide Belle on the third floor, in the nursery, Daisy said. We could dye her hair with walnut juice.

Her mother snorted. Absolutely not.

Daisy s mind spun helplessly. We could send her to the country estate, to the care of a good woman.

Gossip would spread like wildfire, and believe me, everyone would suspect that the child was yours. It s your future or hers, and she is not my daughter .

I understand, but-

Lady Wharton surged to her feet again. Do you have any idea how mortifying this is for me? You dare ask me to nurture evidence of my husband s betrayal?

Daisy held her mother s gaze; not for nothing had she grown up in the shadow of a woman strong enough to exile her own spouse. I can only imagine, and I m so sorry. However, that doesn t change my opinion regarding Belle.

This is not merely a matter of your reputation, but my well-being. I have had enough affronts for one lifetime. Do you dare to think that I should have raised my husband s bastards? Lived with daily evidence of his infidelity, his lack of respect for me, his poor moral fiber?

Daisy rocked Belle back and forth, watching her eyelashes flutter. I m so sorry that Father neglects his responsibilities.

I have been sorry for years, her mother said, falling back into her chair. My regrets don t change reality.

Moo, the baby said sleepily. Her eyelashes lay on her cheeks like tiny fans.

I cannot give her away, Daisy said desperately. I cannot.

You must. Thankfully, Tangle is both experienced and discreet. He will deliver her himself, rather than trust a groom. He will make certain that the Chelsea Orphanage understands that she is to be well cared for.

Children are often hungry and cold, even in the best orphanages, Daisy insisted. No one plays with them or even speaks to them. They are left in cribs for the whole day. When they are older, they are put to work for hours, sometimes in the sleet and snow.

Not in the Chelsea Orphanage. She will grow up surrounded by children who also have noble blood, albeit diluted. It is the best such establishment in the city, one where young ladies of quality volunteer, obviously without having any idea that they might be related to one of the orphans.

But you never allowed me- Daisy broke off.

Her mother nodded. How could I allow you to volunteer with other girls, given that your father s bastards resemble you so closely? I made up a story about Livie s mother not approving of the activity, as if that woman cared a fig for what her daughter did from day to day!

Daisy felt dangerously close to tears. I see.

Your hair is so unusual, as is that child s, Lady Wharton said. If you want to blame someone, blame your father.

But-

I don t mean to be unkind, but it is time to grow up , she interrupted, hoisting herself out of the chair as if she were an arthritic old woman. Your girlhood is over.

I- Daisy began, but her mother cut her off again.

Your father has never accepted the fact that what people think matters. Her lips twisted. He goes his sweet way, regardless of the consequences for others. I refuse to allow you to resemble him in that. I have built a life, a life that matters, by respecting the consequences of my actions. Do you understand?

Daisy couldn t stop looking at Belle s face. Given the delicacy of her bone structure, her mother must be incredibly beautiful.

I had to talk Lady Castlereigh around to forgiving me for my brother s criminality. Without her approval, you would have no suitors at all. None. My position in society was rocked by Sir Tyron s criminal actions, but not destroyed. But you ? My own daughter? If you are suspected of behaving like a hussy, I will have no further place in society.

Daisy s heart sank like a stone.

You have been testing me since you turned thirteen years of age, her mother said flatly. You made your disrespect obvious every time you stole out of this house unaccompanied by a maid.

A sharp pain twisted in Daisy s chest. I didn t mean to be disrespectful.

Do you think that I was unaware that you and your cousin were galloping in Hyde Park last year? That somehow she met Major FitzRoy, though they were never introduced in my presence? She snorted. You have a mutinous strain, likely inherited from your wretched father. I am willing to accept that you can t help yourself, but you cannot ruin my life!

Daisy swallowed hard and whispered, I can t send Belle to that place. A sob struggled up her throat.

Lady Wharton s frown deepened. Do you think I allowed myself to cry when I discovered that baby on my doorstep when you were first born? Or when my brother s wife birthed a child in his absence?

No?

Grow up, Daisy! she repeated. No whining. No malingering. I rescued Livie. I paid for the other children, and I continue to pay for them. We do what we can .

I understand.

That didn t mean that she agreed.

I have a terrible headache, so I shall retire to my room, her mother declared. Tangle will take the child, and I trust you will not make a fuss about it.

Daisy drew in a shuddering breath.

She cannot be seen by anyone, from a groom to a maid, Lady Wharton continued, heading toward the door. I shall tell him to retrieve her immediately. The door closed behind her.

Grow up?

As Daisy understood it, maturity involved making ethical decisions rather than allowing others to dictate one s choices. She may have spent her life irritating her mother, but she rarely directly contradicted her.

Now? That mutinous inheritance from her father was in full swing.

Sending a relative to an orphanage due to shame or rage-both emotions she completely understood and sympathized with-was not right.

Belle wasn t her mother s blood relation, though.

She was Daisy s.

In all senses of the word but one, this child was Daisy s.