Twenty-Four

UV

ENGLAND

The air was frigid with an icy silence. The faces of the four grandparents were similar; eyebrows raised, mouths forming an O, eyes wide open, as if life had paused for a moment.

John Haversham stood at the fireplace, having just related the whole story. Emily perched on one of the sofas, awaiting the reaction, thankful they had decided to have this meeting without Francesca present.

After a beat, it was as if someone had pressed a button and all the grandparents spoke at once in a cacophony of sound. John raised his hands for silence and gestured to his father-in-law to speak.

“Why on earth would you do that? Shouldn’t you have found an orphanage?”

His wife hit his arm in reproach. “Do you realize how offensive you sound?” she declared.

Emily’s face collapsed in disappointment, and a look of deep concern filled her husband’s. If this was the reaction of those they hoped would be accepting, how would John’s parents respond?

Emily replied, “We had been praying so long for a baby. She was—no, she is the greatest blessing ever bestowed upon us.”

John’s father, Sir John Haversham, spoke out in a loudly pompous tone, “We have grown to love her, of course, but her heritage is completely unknown, you say? That was utterly irresponsible of you! Preposterous! The truth is that you have betrayed us most cruelly and now we find that she is not actually our granddaughter! The deception is inexcusable. She may be the offspring of a peasant for all we know!”

“Father, please moderate your tone! I understand that this has been a shock and that you are angry with Emily and I, but please, temper your opposition.”

His father bowed and shook his head muttering under his breath. John looked to his mother, Augusta, whose face was scarlet.

“So rather than a young lady of high rank and breeding, she is a mongrel.”

Emily flinched.

“Mother!”

“You have brought this on yourself, John. You have deceived your family. What? Did you think we would embrace the knowledge that our granddaughter is of low birth? For shame! Our family has been noble for two hundred years, unsullied by any vagrant offspring, and now this! It is not to be borne!”

Emily looked to her mother, Lady Davenport, for support. “Now, now everyone,” she said, “Francesca has not changed in the space of these five minutes. We know her to be a diligent and respectful child and in all relevant senses a lady. We have known her as our progeny, and she has never given us any cause for complaint as to her conduct or bearing. Indeed, we have never witnessed any evidence from her behavior that she was not, in fact, blood of our blood. She is, in every other respect, an English gentlewoman, in spite of her true parentage.”

Emily rushed to taker her mother’s hand in gratitude as Lady Davenport continued, “The Bible speaks kindly of adoption. Let us be more Christian in our attitude and take time to adjust to the shock before spouting things while in this emotional state that we might later regret. And, foremost, let it not change our affection for dear Francesca. Hysteria will help no one and will only serve to ostracize us from our granddaughter’s affections.”

“Thank you, Georgina,” said John, relieved to have at least one ally. “You are perhaps all forgetting that Francesca herself was only informed of this a week ago. She has experienced myriad emotions and has frankly forgiven us. She has not deceived you. Lay the blame at our feet for that. At the time we could, honestly, see no good reason for admitting the fact that she was adopted and your conduct today has borne that out. She is a child of God, as are all of us, and is deserving of our unconditional love and support at this difficult time.”

His father, Lord Haversham, harrumphed in disapproval, and his mother spat back, “The deception itself is a sin. Were it not for this, this agent coming, you would have continued to deceive us our whole lives. Are we picking and choosing which of the Ten Commandments we will keep now?”

“I suppose that is the true reason for the choice of name, which I thought strange at the time. No one on either side has ever been called ‘Francesca.’ Indeed, it is rather foreign sounding, and I have always thought so,” fumed Lord Haversham.

John looked between his parents. “Please try to understand how hard it was for us to pray for a child but not be blessed with one. None of you has ever experienced that kind of anguish. She was truly a miracle, an answer to our prayers, and it seemed fitting that she be named in remembrance of that blessing. It is a beautiful name in its own right and doubly so as it reminds us of how God smiled on us,” he pleaded.

“But it was another lie compounding the first! You said you chose the name because she was born in France close to Italy. Another deception!” cried Lady Haversham.

Emily began to weep.

“What will we tell society?” gasped Lord Haversham, working himself into a frenzy. “We, who pride ourselves on the purity of our blue blood? We, to whom others look for guidance on lineage, proper ranking, and manners? We will be mocked to shame! Ridiculed as hypocrites! Come, Augusta, let us leave this place where we are not given the respect we deserve and carefully ponder how to proceed in this matter.”

He stood in dramatic fashion and waited for his wife to rise. They swept from the room. The effect of their departure was like that of popping a balloon and those still present sank as the tension exited the room with them.

“I think we see where their true rancor lies—in how this will affect them!” said John.

Lady Davenport patted her daughter’s hand. “There, there, my darling girl. We will not desert Francesca, shall we George?” In a brusque manner, he stiffly agreed. “No, no. She is a good girl, and we are fond of her…. There is, however, the greater moral question to address …”

“What do you mean?” asked John.

“Well, you will have a moral obligation to tell any future suitors of her true heritage. You may pooh, pooh it sir, but breeding is the lifeblood of English society and a man deserves to know all the facts before entering into a marriage.”

“Of course, Papa,” said Emily to her father. “We have concluded the same thing, but as to the greater society in general, do you believe we have a similar obligation? You have been witness to the prejudice from her own family, would that not open her up to unnecessary abuse from those not related to us?”

“I do not believe such a course of action is necessary at this time,” he said guardedly. “But we will all need to give it more thought.”

“Indeed, I think you need have no fear of John’s parents broadcasting it!” exclaimed Lady Georgina.

“The immediate course we have decided on,” continued John Haversham. “After much deliberation and discussion, is to travel to France to show Francesca where she was born and then on to Italy to meet her grandfather and visit the land of her mother’s birth, without disclosing the reasons for the journey to anyone here. I have instructed the Italian agent to travel back in haste to tell him, Signore Giaccopazzi, that we will arrive in a few weeks.

Upon our return, we will, of course, tell any young man who seeks Francesca’s hand in marriage that she is adopted, but feel, as you have validated, no compunction to broadcast it generally.”

“You realize that if such a young man decided not to pursue her after your disclosure, he will be at liberty to tell whomsoever he desires,” counseled Lord Davenport.

“We shall cross that bridge when we come to it,” John sighed. “Poor Francesca is just coming to terms with the change in her fortunes herself.”

Lord Davenport, who was pacing by the fireplace, stopped and faced them all, no smile upon his countenance. “Then she should be very careful of the male company she seeks upon her return. Her very future and standing in society will depend on it!”