Intolerable Civility

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Tenth Woman

"You would do better not to talk of what you do not understand, Miss Demery," Sir William said.

"Certainly," Lady Balley agreed. "We already know my daughter to be wanton. There is no need to impugn her honesty on top of that."

Cate could not raise her gaze from her plate. Fear and humiliation, sharp as a knife, cut at her belly.

"But then Redwood is the father?" Sarah said. "Catherine? Is he? And all this time I was quite certain he was not."

Cate opened her mouth to swear that he was. The words would not come out. It was a lie. It had always been a lie. A convenient one, of course, for Redwood's own name had been blackened at the time though rumours of his affair with a titled, married woman. No one had thought twice about whether he had seduced Catherine, when it was so undeniably true that he had seduced another. But she had been backed into a corner when she had first uttered that lie. Her father standing above her, shouting at her to tell him who had done this to her. David off near the window, staring at her from a distance, the weight of his gaze like a vice. It was different now.

She raised her gaze and saw David looking at her down the table. He looked shocked and anxious. Not angry.

"It was not Redwood." The words came out shaking. "It is a secret. It is my secret. But it was not Redwood. I lied. I'm sorry."

"Oh, Cate. Say no more," David said. "Please, Cate. Be quiet."

But there was nothing more to say. She had said it all. Her father's cheeks were turning red with fury. Her mother was staring at her with bulging eyes and a cold sneer. Mrs Demery was raising her eyebrows and looking disgusted. Sarah was quietly smiling to herself. The vicar looked shocked. Baxter had his head bowed to stare at his lap, like he was pretending he could not hear anything.

Her father spoke first.

"The devil do you mean by that!?" He roared. "You said it was Redwood. You said you were seduced by that scoundrel. Who was it? Some footman? Some coal sweep?"

"I won't say. He doesn't matter."

"It matters! How dare you lie to me, on top of all you did, on top of getting pregnant and embarrassing us all, ruining your engagement, bringing shame to your sisters, you lied."

Cate could not bring herself to say the words to defend herself and merely shrugged.

"I don't understand," Mr Maddox said. "Who is the father?"

"I will not say," Cate said, her voice shaking.

"I'd like to know," Sarah said. "Who on earth could it be? I had no idea."

Down the table, Laurie leaned forward and deliberately poured herself another glass of wine. "My goodness! What a mystery!"

Then she, at least, would not speak. Not would David. Luke's secret was safe for at least tonight. That thought gave Cate the courage to meet her father's gaze.

"I made a terrible mistake when I said it was Redwood," she said. "I wronged him. I said any useful name you see, to keep from saying the real one. What I have should have said is that I would never say. And I won't."

"Catherine!" Her father sputtered her name like it was a curse. "What are you saying? Who is the boy's father?"

"David is the only father he knows." Cate looked down the table to him for support. "The blood doesn't matter. He's David's in all other ways, and the man who gave him his blood gave him no more than that."

David was paler than Cate had ever seen him. "Don't ask her anymore, please, Sir William. I wish she had not spoken. As far as I am concerned, that matter is closed."

"I will ask her whatever I like! She is my daughter!"

"I will not answer." Cate's voice wavered. "I won't answer. I won't. I won't."

Around the table, her guests were either watching with interest — and judgement — or staring at their plates and pretending they could not hear. Sarah was watching with a catlike smile. Cate spared a moment to be grateful that she had not asked more guests than she did. Had she invited the local gentry, as Paul had suggested, her public humiliation would have been complete.

"She lied to me," Sir William said in a thin, viperous tone. "I should have known. A daughter who could betray her family by getting with child out of wedlock would certainly not stoop to a courtesy so paltry as the truth."

"I cannot say I am surprised," Mrs Demery said. "It is only another reason to be disappointed that my son married her."

"I didn't know," Paul said. "I didn't know." He was very pale. "I really didn't know."

"The more I know about my own daughter, the less pleased I am with her," Lady Balley said. "Catherine! How could you?"

"It is certainly an unpleasant revelation but not without its silver lining," the vicar said. "To bear false witness is a grave misdeed, but to amend false witness is the right course."

"Better not to have lied in the first place!"

"It certainly is an injustice to Redwood," Baxter said quietly.

"And an injustice to me, the mother who raised her!"

"And I, the father who believed her."

The dining room fell quiet, as though no one had any other complaints to add. Annabelle sniffed into her handkerchief. Sarah examined her reflection in a spoon. David met Cate's eye and mouthed sorry.

Until that moment, Cate had been too shocked to want to cry. Now, tears came to her eyes but she resolutely blinked them back. She was humiliated, yes, but she was angry too. Angry with Sarah for exposing her. Angry with her parents for condemning her. Angry with herself for lying all those months ago rather than refuse to name anyone at all.

"I made terrible mistakes," she said. "I wronged Redwood. I wronged David. I wronged even Luke, who will grow up under the shadow of my sins. But I promise you, Father, it would be another wrong to name the man who wronged me. You must accept that. Or don't. But you will never know."

"Then you are no daughter of mine."

"Then I never was."

Sir William's jaw bulged and his eyes narrowed. Then he took up a bottle of wine and poured himself a deep glass. There was no answer coming, it seemed. His gaze was somewhere far away.

"There will be consequences, Catherine," Lady Balley warned. "You cannot speak to your father like that. You will be punished."

"Mother, I have been punished already for sins far greater than this. I have lost my place in society. My future. My brothers. My sisters. David's love." The tears began to roll down her cheeks. "I lost David. I lost the only man I have ever loved."

Sarah gasped. Mrs Demery scoffed an expletive. Paul squeaked. Annabelle murmured that Cate should use a handkerchief. The vicar patted his pockets but could not find one. Mr Maddox said he didn't understand. Miss Maddox whispered an explanation to him. Lady Balley rolled her eyes and called Cate a silly girl. Sir William drank. Baxter looked desperately at the door. Laurie watched them all with interest.

At the other end of the table, a chair scraped back across the floor and David stood up. He loomed. The room fell quiet. Everybody looked at him.

"The dinner is over," he said. "My apologies."

He pivoted on his heel and left the room. Cate stared after him. His quick footsteps sounded in the hall, then the front door slammed. It shook the silence of the dining room like an earthquake.

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2023-06-19: Closing in on the finish now. Cate has said she loves him, so there can't be much more to go, right? ...right?