Page 95 of A Bargain with the Rakish Duke
“Lady Afferton, I must ask you to lower your voice. This is my home, and I will not tolerate such disrespect towards my guests.”
Lady Afferton rounded on Catherine, her face contorted with fury. “You! This is all your fault! If it weren’t for you, my son would not be in exile. You ruined him, and now, you’re ruining my daughter with your influence!”
Beatrice felt a surge of anger rise within her, a testament to the strength her friend’s presence gave her.
She moved to stand beside Catherine, her voice firm and unwavering. “Enough, Mother! How dare you speak to my friend that way? Have you no respect for her condition?”
Lady Afferton’s eyes widened, flickering with shock at her daughter’s commanding tone.
Beatrice seized the moment, stepping forward. “And how dare you criticize me when Patrick is the one who has done the most abominable things?”
Her voice shook with years of pent-up anger.
“I have worked ceaselessly over the past year to take care of you. I was the one who pleaded with our relatives to take us in, I was the one who funded our lodgings—how do you think they managed to accommodate us, when they also struggled to find means? Did you think Patrick was the one doing all that?”
Lady Afferton gulped.
“No. Your dear son keeps drinking and whoring through our family’s fortune. He did not send us a penny. Yet all you did was sing his praises. What a good son he was, what a misunderstood man he is. No, Mother, he’s nothing like that. He never cared for anyone but himself.”
The words spilled out of her like a torrent shattering through a dam.
“I have done nothing but follow your orders all my life, but I never received a single kind word from you, let alone love! God forbid, you showed me any affection. Your ‘prodigal’ daughter. But you know what? I am done with you. If you so wish to be reunited with your precious son, go to him and see how he treats you!”
Lady Afferton paced the room, her skirts swishing angrily around her feet. “Do you think your precious Duke will stand by you when he learns of your true nature? When he sees what a shameless child you truly are?”
Beatrice could feel the heat of fury emanating from Catherine. She glanced over at her friend, giving her a look that told her she could handle her mother.
Beatrice stood her ground, her voice steady despite her trembling hands. “Kenneth knows everything about me, Mother. Unlike you, he accepts me for who I am.”
Lady Afferton laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. “God, how coddled you are. You are a naïve child, Beatrice. You are nothing but?—”
“Enough,” Kenneth’s voice came from the doorway, and Beatrice turned to its direction.
He’d entered the parlor alongside Thomas, their faces etched with concern. They had heard the raised voices from above and come to investigate.
Lady Afferton opened her mouth, ready to continue her tirade, when Kenneth stopped her again.
“You will not speak to my wife in such a manner. She is the Duchess of Dunford, and you will show her respect,” he said with a stern expression.
Lady Afferton sputtered, her face flushing an ugly shade of red. “How dare you!”
Kenneth’s eyes narrowed. “No, how dare you! Your daughter is an exemplary woman. A far better person than you can ever hope to be.”
“Exemplary?” Lady Afferton scoffed.
Kenneth growled, “Yes. Exemplary. And the more I speak with you, Lady Afferton, the more certain I am she takes everything after her father.”
Lady Afferton gasped, “You?—”
“You have said enough. As of now, I will provide you with funds to purchase a residence outside the country and live comfortably. But if you ever come near Beatrice again, I will cut you off, leaving you to a fate of your own making… or worse, your son’s,” he asserted.
A deafening silence followed his pronouncement.
Lady Afferton stood there, her mouth agape, unable to find her voice in the face of such a threat.
Thomas cleared his throat.
“Jameson, please show Lady Afferton out. I’m afraid she has upset all of us more than enough, especially my dear wife in her delicate condition.”
