Page 52 of A Devious Secret

This time, Lady Hawkinge responded with a slight bob of her head. “That they are,” she murmured, keeping her gaze fixed on her lap.

Botheration. They were going to get nowhere if he kept to polite conversational topics. He would need to press her a little and hope that she didn’t resent him for doing so.

In a steady voice, he said, “I understand that your father was in attendance this evening.”

“That he was.”

“Did you speak to him?”

“I did.”

Stephen took a step closer to her, being mindful to maintain a proper distance. “Did he say something that upset you?”

Lady Hawkinge brought her gaze up. “My father is the most aggravating of men, and he can’t help but upset me.”

“Do I need to challenge him to a duel?” Stephen asked in an attempt at humor.

“No, that would solve nothing.” Lady Hawkinge clenched his handkerchief in her hand. “Besides, I do believe my father is too surly to die.”

Stephen took another step towards the bench, the leaves crinkling under the weight of his boots. “May I be so bold as to ask what he said to upset you?”

“It matters not. He will always find a way to criticize me.”

“But it matters to me.”

Lady Hawkinge bit her lower lip. “My father took issue with my dancing the waltz,” she hesitated, “with you.”

“I see.” He cocked his head. “Do you regret dancing with me?”

Her eyes widened. “Heavens, no,” she rushed out. “I wouldn’t change a thing about dancing with you, but my father…” Her words trailed off.

Stephen decided to take his sister’s advice and boldly asked, “What aren’t you saying?”

She sighed. “My father does not approve of you,” she revealed. “He thinks working for a living is degrading.”

Stephen paused. “Do you want me to seek your father’s approval?”

“No, I do not,” she replied. “For it is something that is unobtainable, even for me.”

“I can’t imagine that to be true.”

Lady Hawkinge rose from her seat on the bench. “I’m afraid the moment I was born, I was a grand disappointment to him,” she said. “My father hardly came around the nursery, but when he did, he would make it a point to chastise me for the tiniest infraction.”

Not sure what to say, he settled on, “I’m sorry.”

With a shrug, she continued. “It has been this way for my entire life. I know no other way.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“And what am I to do about it?” she asked, her voice rising. “My father didn’t even attend Baldwin’s funeral. What kind of father does that?”

Stephen could hear the pain in her voice and was smart enough not to interrupt.

Lady Hawkinge scoffed. “We hadn’t spoken since he married his mistress, but I had hoped he would have traveled the short distance to be there for me.”

“He should have been,” Stephen said.

A tear ran down her cheek and Lady Hawkinge reached up to wipe it away. “He was too busy entertaining his wife, a woman he married a month after my mother died.” Her voice grew shaky. “One month. That is all my mother meant to him.”