The Gilded Web by Mary Balogh Page A

could remember.
    â€œIt seems we are no longer good enough for the Duke of Peterleigh,” he said. “He sent a message to that effect with his secretary.”
    Alexandra said nothing.
    â€œHe did not even come himself!” Lord Beckworth’s fist slammed down onto the desk before him with such force that Alexandra visibly jumped. “Lord Beckworth is to be communicated with now only through a secretary. Do you realize fully what disgrace you have brought on your family, girl?”
    Alexandra raised eyes that long training had taught her to keep expressionless. “I think perhaps the Duke of Peterleigh is not worthy of us, Papa,” she said. “I think little of a suitor who is not willing to stand by me even when I am the innocent victim of a silly prank.”
    â€œSilence, girl!” the baron roared, so that Alexandra squared her shoulders and lowered her eyes to the floor again. “Innocent, do you call yourself? When you tricked your mama and your brother in order to wander alone outside a ballroom? That is where bawds and strumpets display their wares. Have you not seen them outside the theaters and opera houses? You were issuing an open invitation. And you try to put all the blame for what ensued on Lord Eden? You are little better than a whore.”
    â€œPapa!” Alexandra’s eyes blazed incautiously into his. “How can you say that to me? You know it is untrue. I was foolish, perhaps. But nothing worse. I have not been guilty of any great sin.”
    Lord Beckworth stabbed a finger in her direction. “You are committing the greatest sin of all,” he said. “You are denying guilt, convincing yourself that sin is not sin. You are in grave danger of hellfire, my girl. My prayers will be devoted entirely to you today, that your heart will be softened and that you will beg for mercy. You will spend the coming hours on your knees. And when the Earl of Amberley calls on you this afternoon, you will receive him with humility and gratitude, and you will accept his offer of marriage. Do you understand me?”
    â€œPapa,” she said, “may I not just return home? Please?”
    â€œHome?” he said. “Your home henceforth is with the man who is willing to lift you above your disgrace, Alexandra. It seems I have failed you. A fatherly softness and love have come between me and my Christian duty to train you properly for a life of virtue. I have failed with my son, and now I have failed with my daughter. I hope for the sake of your immortal soul that your husband will not likewise fail you. I advised him when he called on me this morning to be strict with you from the start. I advised him not to hesitate to beat you until you have learned obedience.”
    Alexandra clasped her hands more tightly in front of her. “I have tried to be obedient to you, Papa,” she said. “I have tried all my life to make you and Mama proud of me. If I have failed, it has not been intentional, and my failure has not been your fault.”
    Lord Beckworth looked weary suddenly. He sank into the chair behind his desk and passed one hand over his bald head. “One tries and tries,” he said. “One has a family and wants what is best for them. One wants them to grow in a knowledge of Holy Scripture and the principles of Christian virtue. And one does one’s best to do one’s duty, not sparing the rod, not allowing weak sentiment to stand in the way of what is right. And how does it all end? First James, and now you. You must marry Amberley, Alexandra. I can do no more for you.”
    Alexandra stood mute across the desk from him. She scarcely dared breathe. These moods of weariness and self-recrimination were more terrible than his moods of righteous anger. Her father’s frequent sense of failure almost invariably led to a redoubling of his harsh attempts to pound virtue and morality into his family. She had always thought that once she