Degrees of Hope

by Catherine Winchester

  “Thank you.” Honoria squeezed his hand.

  “I think we will all miss you,” Martha said. She had taken to him much easier than Hope had. He was misinformed in many ways but he was a pleasant enough man. Martha would take a thousand of James over one Malcolm.

  “Me too,” Hope smiled; she really was trying her hardest to be friendly.

  “Thank you,” James smiled at her. Hope broke eye contact when it began to feel uncomfortable and looked out of the windows. James followed the direction of her gaze.

  “Your gardens are quite lovely,” he told Martha.

  “That's very kind of you to say.” Martha knew that her gardens were nothing special; they were not landscaped to anywhere near the degree that Arundell Hall was.

  “I should very much like to look around them,” James said. “Perhaps Hope would be so kind as to give me a tour?”

  “Of course.” This time, Hope's smile was genuine. He must have realised that Honoria was in trouble and wanted to speak to Hope alone, to spare his sister's blushes. She bade her dog, MacDuff, to stay where he was, which was curled up in a patch of sunlight.

  The orangery was basically just one large glass house and as such, Hope and James didn't have to worry about propriety, so long as they didn't venture too far away. In the distance Hope could see and even at times, hear her brothers playing. It looked as if they were having a mock sword fight with sticks. She smiled and glanced to James, who was oblivious the high jinks; instead he was pretending to admire the flowerbeds. Hope began to grow uncomfortable with the silence.

  “Did you want to speak to me privately?” she asked.

  “Actually yes. Yes I did.”

  She waited a few moments, hoping that he would continue but he didn't.

  “You look troubled,” she finally said, pausing and turning to him.

  “Not troubled, exactly.” He looked down at her. “I wanted to talk to you before I spoke with your parents.”

  Hope nodded encouragingly, thinking that he wanted her to confirm his suspicions about Malcolm before he spoke to her parents.

  “I know that we did not get off to a very auspicious start, but I believe that you have warmed to me in recent days and well... the thing is, I... The first time I saw you, I knew that you were someone special and I cannot stop thinking about you. I wanted to ask you if you could consider-”

  Hope's blood had turned cold as he continued to speak, and she realised that she had completely misread the situation.

  “Stop!” she cried. “Please, I beg you, don't continue.”

  “Why not?” he looked affronted.

  “I am afraid that you have misjudged my attempts at civility, Mr Ashdown.”

  “Misjudged,” he repeated. “My dear girl, I am trying to ask you to m-”

  “I know!” she cut him off once again. “I understand what it is that you want to ask me, I simply wish that you wouldn't.”

  “Why not? Most women of your age would be glad of an offer of marriage!”

  “I am not single through a lack of suitors, Mr Ashdown, I am single because I have not yet met a man whom I can love.”

  “So you enjoy breaking men’s' hearts!”

  “No!” she was shocked by the accusation. Just like James, she had tried to let her other suitors know that their offers weren't welcome, but mostly they had ignored her and asked anyway. “I gain no pleasure from turning you down, sir; I only wish that when I do marry, it is because I am in love, not just because my husband desires me or my wealth.”

  “I don't desire you, Hope, I love you!”

  “You don't even know me!” she snapped, losing her cool. “If you did, you would have realised that your feelings were not reciprocated.”

  James sighed. “Am I so awful a man that you cannot even contemplate the idea of loving me?”

  “You are not awful, Mr Ashdown, but please understand, I could never consider marrying someone as wilfully blind as you.”

  “Because I believe my Bible and place women behind men!” He sounded incredulous but whilst that was an issue for Hope, it wasn't what she had been thinking of.

  “No! The blindness I am speaking of is with regards to your sister, and your wilful ignorance of her plight!”

  “Marriage is a hard adjustment for some,” he tried to explain, although he was slightly confused over the turn this conversation had taken. “But I am sure that she will soon adjust and settle into her role.”

  “How would you know?” Hope asked, her anger rising with each foolish statement he made. “Have you ever been married?”

  James stiffened his back at that remark. “Of course not.”

  “Then why do you believe that you can speak of something you have no knowledge of?”

  “Because I know my sister!”

  “Do you? Do you really? Then how come you cannot see that she isn't just taking time to adjust, she is thoroughly miserable, despairing even. That poor girl is in dreadful pain and you, her supposedly loving brother, cannot even see it!”

  James was shocked by her words and looked into the orangery, where his sister and Martha were still chatting. They noticed him looking and smiled at him.

  “I think I know my own sister,” he said, although he didn't sound very certain.

  “I must disagree.”

  “So that is why you are refusing me?” he asked, turning to her. He looked to be in pain.

  Hope sighed, “I am refusing you because the truth is, whilst you are a learned man, in so many ways, you are ignorant.”

  “Right.” He straightened his back and swallowed. “If it's all right with you, I believe I shall look around the gardens alone for a little longer. Good day, Lady Beaumont.”

  He strode away from her and Hope was left feeling as though she were floundering. She turned and headed slowly back towards the orangery door.

  'Where had that come from?' she wondered. She had seen no sign that he might like her romantically. Then again, perhaps he didn't love her; she had noticed him looking around the house covetously at times, and she was considered a very good catch for her fortune alone. Then again, he had looked genuinely hurt when she refused him.

  How could he misread her so badly? She had been making an effort to be friendly, it was true, but nothing more.

  “Are you all right, darling?” Martha asked as Hope approached them.

  “No,” Hope said honestly. “I feel a little unwell, I think I will go and have a lie down, if that's all right.”

  Martha knew Hope well enough to realise that there was more to the story, but she would go and see her privately once their guests were gone.

  “Of course,” Martha kissed Hope's cheek and smiled warmly at her, silently trying to tell her that everything would be all right. Hope smiled back, although it was a pale reflection of her usual smile.

  “I do hope you feel better soon,” Honoria said with sincerity.

  “Thank you. MacDuff, come,” Hope called her dog and he happily trotted after her.

  Martha sat back down with their guest, and wondered exactly what had happened between Hope and James. She could still see James wandering around outside and he too didn't look very happy.

  James came back inside after another twenty minutes or so and sensing his distress, though he did his best to hide it, Honoria got ready to leave.

  Martha wasn't upset by the early departure, since she wanted to go and see Hope. When she was able, she found Hope in her bedroom, curled on her bed with MacDuff lying beside her.

  “Off,” Hope told MacDuff, knowing that the dog wasn't allowed on furniture. Martha sat on the bed and Hope pulled herself into a sitting position.

  “What's wrong, darling?” Martha asked, although she had her suspicions.

  “He tried to propose,” Hope admitted.

  Martha had noticed the appreciative glances that James had been giving Hope, so she wasn't completely surprised by this turn of events. The idea that he obviously didn't have any clue how Hope felt about him thou
gh, didn't speak well for him.

  “Oh, sweetheart.” Martha pulled Hope into her arms and held her tightly. “I'm so sorry.”

  You might think that most girls would be flattered by a marriage proposal, even if they turned it down, but Hope wasn't most girls and she hated having to refuse a gentleman and hurting their feelings. That far outweighed any flattery she felt from the offers.

  When Hope pulled away from her mother though, she looked more downcast than usual.

  “What is it?” Martha asked.

  Hope glanced at her mother only briefly, then lowered her head again.

  “I think I broke a confidence,” she confessed.

  Martha didn't press her, just took hold of her hand and waited for her to continue.

  “I thought that he wanted to talk to me about Honoria, that maybe he had realised what Malcolm was doing to her, but when it became clear that he was still clueless...”

  “You told him?” Martha guessed.

  “Not exactly. Not explicitly. I told him that he was blind to his sister's pain.”

  Martha took a deep breath.

  “I think that is understandable,” Martha assured her daughter.

  “She'll be upset with me,” Hope assured her mother. “I promised that I wouldn't say anything to James about what Malcolm was doing to her.”

  “But you didn't say anything about that, did you?”

  Hope shook her head.

  “Even your father and I can see the pain Honoria is in, so I see no harm in pointing out something that is obvious to most. Honoria will understand that you weren't trying to be hurtful.”

  “I hope so,” Hope threw herself down on the bed again and began to cry. “Everything is such a mess.”

  Chapter Eleven

  James and Honoria's carriage ride home was mostly silent. Honoria tried asking what was the matter, but he assured her that there was nothing wrong. She didn't believe him but she let the matter drop.

  Once they arrived home, James practically sprinted from the carriage, leaving Honoria to follow in his wake. He was angry about something but it was more than that. When James usually got angry, he began long, ranting speeches about what had upset him. She had never known him to seethe in silence before. Plus, an unusual look crossed his face sometimes, almost as though he was confused about something.

  Honoria went into her sitting room when they got back and James headed upstairs to his room.

  He paced the length of the bedroom for a long time, replaying his confrontation with Hope and trying to make sense of what she had said earlier.

  As he began to calm down, he began to see that Hope was right about his sister, she wasn't the same girl that he used to know. He had found excuses to explain her change of behaviour but in doing that, he had been ignoring the change.

  He made his was downstairs and to Honoria's sitting room, where he knew that she would be at this time of the day. She smiled as he came in.

  “I'm sorry if I was a little out of sorts earlier, my dear.”

  “That's quite all right.” She wouldn't ask again what had upset him.

  James sat in the armchair beside Honoria and looked closely at his sister as she worked on a piece of embroidery.

  “Are you happy?” James asked, seemingly out of the blue.

  “Happy?” she sounded confused by the question.

  “Yes, with your life, with your marriage?”

  “Of course,” she smiled as serenely as she could. “Whatever would make you ask such a thing?”

  “You don't seem very happy,” he admitted.

  “James, I am fine, honestly.”

  James considered his response before replying.

  “Is Malcolm good to you?”

  “Whatever would make you ask that?” As she looked up at James, he thought that she looked rather like a frightened animal.

  “You used to write and tell me that you were having problems, remember?”

  Honoria did remember, and she also remembered his repeated replies, saying that she must try harder to be a good wife.

  “I was just having trouble adjusting, that is all.” She returned her attention to her sewing, afraid that he would see the lie in her eyes.

  James learned forward and took the embroidery from her.

  “Look at me,” he demanded, and she obeyed. “What causes the sadness and fear that I can see in your eyes?”

  Honoria wanted to tell him to go to Hell, to leave her alone, to stop asking questions, but she wasn't brave enough to do that. She felt unable to look away from his penetrating gaze and to her horror, found herself confessing the truth, or part of it at least.

  “Malcolm,” she began, haltingly. “He... well sometimes... he has a temper and... it scares me.”

  James sighed with relief. He had been fearing so much worse, that perhaps Malcolm was having affairs and being indiscreet about it or heaven forbid, perhaps Honoria had caught something from him.

  James reached out and took his sisters hand, squeezing it gently.

  “Don't worry, I'll take care of it for you.”

  Honoria's eyes widened in fear. “No, you-”

  “Hush, dearest, you have nothing to worry about.”

  Honoria nodded and did her best to smile, but inside all she felt was dread. She had said too much, she should have held her tongue, Malcolm wouldn't like her speaking about their marriage to anyone, even her brother.

  Her stomach was tied up in such knots for the next few days, that she was unable to even eat much of anything.

  Martha hated saying goodbye to her boys, but there was no avoiding it. She hugged them tightly and kissed each boy, making them promise to write every week. The boys were used to her affection and now that her displays weren't in front of the school gates, they accepted it with reasonable equanimity.

  Lucien kissed his wife goodbye, as Hope and Charity said goodbye to their brothers, then all three men climbed into the carriage. Lucien would still have plenty of time to say his goodbyes to his sons.

  Martha and Hope watched until the carriage was out of sight, then Hope led her mother inside and Charity trailed behind them.

  “They will be back before you know it,” Hope assured her mother. “Summer is not so very far off now.”

  “No.” Martha took a deep breath and tried to calm down. She was sure that true noblewomen didn't get this upset about their sons returning to boarding school, but then many didn't seem to pay their children much mind at all, really.

  Both Martha and Hope had been getting behind with their work and so to avoid dwelling on an unhappy subject too much, they both threw themselves into designing.

  Lucien was used to that behaviour in Martha, but he was unaccustomed to seeing Hope behaving the same way. Martha explained what had happened with James and he decided to simply keep away from that subject.

  In the past, some gentlemen had come directly to him asking for Hope's hand and in many ways, that was much easier for all involved. Lucien would tell the gentleman that he would have to think about it, then he would talk to Hope and see what she thought and, so far, go back to the men and tell him that his decision was 'no'. He never told them that Hope had said 'no', only that he was forbidding the match.

  The gentleman then suffered no embarrassment around Hope, nor she around them. Sometimes the man might avoid Lucien for a time, but that didn't normally last very long. For some reason, it was easier to forgive another man wounding one's pride than a woman, especially if the woman in question was the object of your affection.

  Some of his peers thought it strange that he 'allowed' his daughter to remain single for so long, but there was a part of Lucien that didn't want her to marry. He wouldn't stand in her way, of course but at the moment he was the most important man in her life and wasn't looking forward to being relegated to second place.

  Lucien had also been spending more time away from work whilst his boys were home, and so he too found that he had more than enough to keep him occupied.
r />   As such, no one noticed that they had not seen nor heard from Honoria in three weeks.

  When news reached them that Honoria had suffered a miscarriage, just days after James had left, they all felt awful.

  It was Mrs Lassiter who told Martha, having heard it from the butcher's wife in town that morning. Martha had to ask the housekeeper why it had taken so long to hear the news. Gossip usually spread like wildfire.

  “I can't say for sure,” Mrs Lassiter answered, “but it seems that she has been on complete bed rest since it happened. Why, only the housekeeper had a key to her room, and even she did not know what was wrong with her mistress.”

  “How is that possible?” Martha asked. Keeping information from one's servants was a hard thing to do as they were such an integral part of the family's life.

  “I can't say,” Mrs Lassiter continued. “I was told that Mr Arundell had been in a frightful mood though, so I dare day that they have not felt free to ask too many questions.”

  Martha wondered if the key the housekeeper had was to let her in to Honoria's bedroom, or to keep Honoria locked in.

  “Did you hear anything else?” Martha asked.

  “Well, the servants say that Mr Arundell has lifted some of the restrictions on them now and Mrs Arundell is leaving her room sometimes.”

  “Thank you, Mrs Lassiter.”

  Martha went straight to Hope and told her what she knew, Hope wrote a note immediately and sent it over to the house. She had a reply within an hour, saying that Honoria would be happy to see them for afternoon tea but the note was perfunctory and impersonal, not at all like the notes Honoria usually sent.

  Martha and Hope arrived at Arundell Hall and unusually, were shown into Honoria's sitting room rather than the front parlour. Honoria was sitting by the window, gazing out over the manicured gardens. She didn't turn when the butler announced their presence, so Hope rushed forward and knelt beside her chair.

  Honoria looked awful. She was pale and colourless, her eyes looked sunken and she had dark circles under them. Her hair was beautifully styled as usual, but her dress had a tea stain down the front, which was far from normal. Her reactions also seemed to be delayed and it took her a few seconds to respond to what was happening around her.