appalling.”
“Based on our very brief acquaintance, that’s an accurate description. But he did fulfill his word to see that I was cared for.”
“And your mother trusted him enough to know that he would. That’s an interesting point.”
“Yes, it is.” Athena looked thoughtful. “He’s an English gentleman who prides himself on behaving honorably, though I doubt if you’d agree with his definition of ‘honorable.’ He was so rich that supporting one schoolgirl was nothing to him, but he could have sent me to a workhouse rather than fulfilling his responsibilities. So he could have been worse.”
“Yet he did send you to a school you hated.”
She grimaced. “It was a grim girls’ school in a ramshackle manor house by the Irish Sea. The icy winter drafts would blow papers off a desk. The headmistress followed that fine Christian dictum that sparing the rod would spoil the child. All the students hated the place, so I became a convenient target for malice because of being a bastard. Too tall, too different, and far too illegitimate. I developed a truly intimidating glare when other girls went too far, and I studied a lot, which kept me busy and improved my mind.”
Will winced as he imagined years of living in such a place. “Was your father deliberately trying to punish you for existing?”
“I don’t know. Probably he didn’t care where I went as long as it was out of his sight. He might have specified a very strict school to counter the wild tendencies I must have inherited from Delilah.”
Even at fourteen, she would have been independent and ingenious. Will asked, “Did you ever try to escape from the school?”
“I thought about it.” A faint smile flickered over her lips. “I really thought about it. But I had no place to go in England, and no money. I couldn’t possibly have made it here to San Gabriel, the only place likely to welcome me. So I endured.”
“Were you ever told what your future held?”
“The solicitor who took me to the school said I would be there until I was eighteen, at which point I could leave and I would be granted a modest but adequate quarterly allowance on the condition that I never tell anyone I was related to my father’s family. Delilah and I had used the name Markham, which was in her family several generations back. There was no obvious connection to my father’s family, so I was able to continue using the name. Generous of him, wasn’t it?”
Will suppressed a strong urge to find out who her father was so the man could be throttled. “Your father should have been whipped !”
“Members of the House of Lords wield the whips,” she said dryly. “They don’t suffer under them. You can see why I am not fond of peers of the realm. Both my grandfathers were lords. The one on my mother’s side I never met at all.”
As a member of the House of Lords himself, Will said, “Not all lords are so dreadful. I went to school with some who are very good fellows.”
“Then I hope they treat their bastard descendants better than my grandfathers did. Your own brother would not have fared well if not for you. But enough of that.” Athena made a dismissive gesture. “It’s time for you to bare your soul and do some more suffering. What are the three worst things that have happened to you? The loss of your wife is surely on the list. What about the loss of your mother? Your father?”
She was right. The knife cut both ways, and it was time for him to speak of things he had long buried. “The siege of Badajoz would make the list of most dreadful things for anyone who was there, but that’s a broadly shared horror. Perhaps we need a separate category for such terrors? Having lived here for the war years, surely you have similar memories.”
She made a face. “None so bad as Badajoz, but bad enough. Another day, perhaps. I’m more interested in what personal trials have tempered you.”
“I dislike ranking tragedies,” he said slowly. “Losing
“Based on our very brief acquaintance, that’s an accurate description. But he did fulfill his word to see that I was cared for.”
“And your mother trusted him enough to know that he would. That’s an interesting point.”
“Yes, it is.” Athena looked thoughtful. “He’s an English gentleman who prides himself on behaving honorably, though I doubt if you’d agree with his definition of ‘honorable.’ He was so rich that supporting one schoolgirl was nothing to him, but he could have sent me to a workhouse rather than fulfilling his responsibilities. So he could have been worse.”
“Yet he did send you to a school you hated.”
She grimaced. “It was a grim girls’ school in a ramshackle manor house by the Irish Sea. The icy winter drafts would blow papers off a desk. The headmistress followed that fine Christian dictum that sparing the rod would spoil the child. All the students hated the place, so I became a convenient target for malice because of being a bastard. Too tall, too different, and far too illegitimate. I developed a truly intimidating glare when other girls went too far, and I studied a lot, which kept me busy and improved my mind.”
Will winced as he imagined years of living in such a place. “Was your father deliberately trying to punish you for existing?”
“I don’t know. Probably he didn’t care where I went as long as it was out of his sight. He might have specified a very strict school to counter the wild tendencies I must have inherited from Delilah.”
Even at fourteen, she would have been independent and ingenious. Will asked, “Did you ever try to escape from the school?”
“I thought about it.” A faint smile flickered over her lips. “I really thought about it. But I had no place to go in England, and no money. I couldn’t possibly have made it here to San Gabriel, the only place likely to welcome me. So I endured.”
“Were you ever told what your future held?”
“The solicitor who took me to the school said I would be there until I was eighteen, at which point I could leave and I would be granted a modest but adequate quarterly allowance on the condition that I never tell anyone I was related to my father’s family. Delilah and I had used the name Markham, which was in her family several generations back. There was no obvious connection to my father’s family, so I was able to continue using the name. Generous of him, wasn’t it?”
Will suppressed a strong urge to find out who her father was so the man could be throttled. “Your father should have been whipped !”
“Members of the House of Lords wield the whips,” she said dryly. “They don’t suffer under them. You can see why I am not fond of peers of the realm. Both my grandfathers were lords. The one on my mother’s side I never met at all.”
As a member of the House of Lords himself, Will said, “Not all lords are so dreadful. I went to school with some who are very good fellows.”
“Then I hope they treat their bastard descendants better than my grandfathers did. Your own brother would not have fared well if not for you. But enough of that.” Athena made a dismissive gesture. “It’s time for you to bare your soul and do some more suffering. What are the three worst things that have happened to you? The loss of your wife is surely on the list. What about the loss of your mother? Your father?”
She was right. The knife cut both ways, and it was time for him to speak of things he had long buried. “The siege of Badajoz would make the list of most dreadful things for anyone who was there, but that’s a broadly shared horror. Perhaps we need a separate category for such terrors? Having lived here for the war years, surely you have similar memories.”
She made a face. “None so bad as Badajoz, but bad enough. Another day, perhaps. I’m more interested in what personal trials have tempered you.”
“I dislike ranking tragedies,” he said slowly. “Losing
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