Page 48 of The Duke’s Wager

“It better not. Maria has work to do. She can’t frolic in the sun for hours on end just because you feel like it!”

“My apologies, my lord. I will get right to my tasks.”

Lucy reached for the other woman, but she made her way out of the room quickly – mumbling something about her duties. With Maria gone, and perhaps a bit emboldened by her talk with Edward, Lucy turned to her father with a lifted chin.

“Why must you be so harsh with them?”

“Come now, Lucy.” He waved her off as though she were a mere insect. “They are servants, here to do a job.”

Lucy crossed her arms over her chest, mirroring her father’s stance. “Does that mean we do not owe them courtesy or kindness?”

“For heaven’s sake, Lucy!” His voice rose as his agitation grew. “If we allow the servants too much leeway, they will step out of line and we will be stuck in a house filled with people below us, thinking they can come and go as they please.”

Lucy opened her mouth to retort, but Henry quickly raised a hand and shook his head. “It will do you well to remember that Maria is your maid. Not your friend. A lady of your stature could never befriend a woman like that earnestly.”

Lucy stared at her father, suddenly irrationally angry. Maria was her friend – one of her only friends – and she would not have their friendship cheapened by her father’s inability to see the other woman’s worth. She would not have her demeaned.

“Maria is my friend!”

Henry merely scoffed at this, as though he found the notion preposterous. “Lucy, be serious. She is here to do a job, and tending to your every whim is that job. The woman has friends of her own class, and I can promise you that you are certainly not one of them. If you feel as though the relationship between the two of you is becoming too familiar, I will have no choice but to let her go!”

Fear consumed her.

No, her father couldn’t take this from her. He had taken enough – she would not allow him to take Maria. She stomped her foot on the ground petulantly, all fear of him suddenly dissipating.

“You would have me friendless and alone!”

Henry Beaumont did not seem to pay much heed to the fiery accusation. He merely sneered at his daughter and shook his head.

“Your blatant disrespect is already telling me that you’ve been spending far too much time with the servants!”

“Those servants are my friends, father! Would you have me go through life without anyone other than yourself to talk to?”

She had gone too far – she knew this – but she could not stop. She was simply too angry, too afraid that she would lose Maria.

To Lucy’s surprise, Henry did not react with the anger she suspected. Instead, he sighed, as though she simply exhausted him.

“You are welcome to have all the friends you want, Lucy. I would love for you to have friends, and I have introduced you to countless men and women of your own stature, people that you can form connections with, people who will keep the reputation of the Beaumont family in high regard.”

“I have met the people you’ve tried to force into my life!” Lucy retorted. “And they are awful. They are boring and shallow, and they are only interested in my name and my wealth. I want friends who care about me, friends who see me for who I am and not only for what they can take from me.”

Henry snorted, clearly amused. Lucy’s breath was racing. She could not remember ever facing off against her father like this – at least not without severe consequences.

“You’re being naïve, Lucy, and I believe I raised you better than that!”

Ha! He had not raised her at all. He had chased her to the kitchens even as a child. And here he was, surprised that she felt more at home with the servants.

Nicolas and Maria had raised her but she, of course, did not utter a word. She knew where her limits were and she had already said far too much for her father’s temper to last much longer.

He waved her off now. “Leave. I cannot reason with you when you are unable to demonstrate rational thought.”

She wanted to fight back. She wanted to tell him that Maria was a better person than any of the hags he had brought here; she wanted to tell him that Nicolas would have been a better father than he had ever been; she wanted to scream and say that she spent an entire day with Edward Lockhart, and that he was a far kinder, gentler person than Henry Beaumont would ever dream of being.

Instead, she lowered her head and ground her teeth.

“Yes, father.”

Instead of making her way to her room, she ended up in the kitchen. The further she got from her father, the calmer she became.