Chapter 12Cressida Devonish sat in the drawing room opposite Reverend Hathorn and was quite unable to grasp what he was saying. His i***t daughter was wandering about the room, picking up priceless heirlooms to hold up and look at, but the man was so intent on his story, he was ignoring her. Between Cressida’s fear that her Staffordshire dogs would get broken and her sheer horror at the very thought of her son impregnating a girl like Isola, she finally rose to her feet.
“Will you make her sit down, Vicar!”
“Isola, come here.” The vicar indicated the couch beside him, and the girl obeyed at once.
“Rafe cannot be responsible for her condition. It’s impossible.”
“Why? Because he prefers the company of men?”
Outraged that the reverend had given voice to her worst fears, Cressida sat down
