Degrees of Hope

by Catherine Winchester

  She also had a meeting with two Members of Parliament who were family friends. She didn't expect them to agree with her stance that all women should be legally classed as feme soles, but she had to start somewhere. Interestingly, she also had a meeting with a Mr Lyons, editor of the London Review. She had no idea what he wanted to discuss, other than an 'exciting opportunity' but she was looking forward to finding out. Plus, she intended to try and bend his ear a little about her cause; having even one member of the press on her side certainly couldn't hurt.

  They took a suite of rooms at Claridge's, Mayfair, arriving at lunchtime on Monday. Hope excused herself to go and see Mrs Cooper and hand deliver the gloves for her wedding gown. As expected, Mrs Cooper wanted a blow by blow, personal account of James' court case, even though she had surely heard everything from her future step-son. Hope had expected as much and she answered the less personal questions and those that were already a matter of public record.

  She was also gratified to hear that Edward Klein was run off his feet with prospective clients.

  Mrs Cooper also pressed her into attending Almack's weekly ball on the Wednesday. Actually, the family had already decided to attend, since one couldn't design for Society without being part of Society, at least occasionally. Still, Hope knew how to play the game and allowed Mrs Cooper to believe that she had convinced her into attending.

  Honoria and Mary had a meeting with Malcolm's solicitor on Tuesday, Mr Sharp. Malcolm's cousins were trying to claim that Honoria had no right to inherit as she had deserted her husband. Mr Sharp explained that despite his best efforts, the cousins seemed determined to see this through; although he also assured her that they had no legal claim. Unfortunately, it would severely delay the probate and settlement of the will. Between them they reached an agreement that Lucian would act as Honoria's legal agent, so that she was free to return to America. It also saved the delay of sending letters back and forth to a foreign country and of course, he could sign contracts on her behalf, that Honoria would otherwise have to return for.

  As well as this, Lucien offered to settle an amount on Honoria to help fund her life in America in the interim. The estate would pay him back (without interest) once settled. They were to return on Thursday to sign the necessary papers.

  Martha was meeting with three clients whilst in London, and she too allowed extra time for each meeting, knowing that gossip was the social lubricant of high Society. Like her daughter though, Martha knew not to divulge any private information.

  All four women also attended a dressmaker on the Wednesday morning. Hope and Martha ordered a selection of dresses, some functional, some for events, whilst Honoria and Mary (who attended only under some duress) ordered mostly functional dresses, although they were talked into a few more expensive gowns for special occasions. All of these garments would be ready in time for their return to America, which was tentatively set for a month's time, if everything went to plan.

  That afternoon, Hope waited with some trepidation for Mr Lyons to get to the point of this meeting. Instead, all he seemed to want to do was make small talk, asking about her life, her education and other such things. After thirty minutes of this, Hope was reaching the end of her patience.

  “Forgive me, Mr Lyons, but is there a reason that you wanted to speak with me?”

  “Indeed,” he smiled, not seeming offended at all. “Well, I was hoping to butter you up a little first but I see that you are too shrewd for that. I want to offer you a job, Lady Beaumont.”

  “A- a job?”

  “Yes. I want you to write for my paper.”

  “But I can't!”

  “Why ever not?”

  “Because journalism is a profession and as such, women are forbidden from entering it.”

  “You would let that stop you?”

  “Of course! I want women to have rights, to be safe, to be able to protect themselves and be independent if they wish to need to be, but we achieve that by changing the laws, not breaking them.”

  “All right, but I was thinking that rather than being a reporter, you could be a columnist, which is a grey area.”

  Hope realised that he only wanted her as another female columnist for the female pages, and then only because of her recent fame.

  “Oh please, Mr Lyons, I cannot spent my time writing pages and pages of drivel about how to manage a house, or servants, or fashion trends, or the best way to get red wine out of fabric or-”

  “If I may, I have no intention of asking you to write that kind of column. I want you to write on any topic that you feel you want to and I want to put your column in the main section of the paper. I also promise not to censor your words.”

  “Isn't that dangerous? Giving a woman free rein to write whatever she wants in your paper?”

  “I confess, my interest in approaching you is to create a little controversy for my paper, a talking point, if you will and your opinions will do that.”

  “But any opinionated woman could do that.”

  “True, but they don't all have your education and, I'm sorry to have to say this, but your title also helps. Being the daughter of an Earl gives you more prestige than most, you will be taken much more seriously. Plus, you will get your opinions out to a wide range of people, far more than you could hope to achieve on your own.”

  Hope considered the man before her for a moment. “Very well, let's talk terms.”

  “You certainly are fearless, Lady Beaumont.” Mr Lyons actually laughed. “Very well. I was thinking that you would write a weekly column, to run on Thursdays, which has the highest circulation. Opinion columns are generally in the region of two thousand words, although you can talk about more than one topic if you wish...”

  He continued to set out the standard terms of an agreement, to which Hope made a few amendments. She then said that she needed time to think and agreed to come to his office on Friday morning to give him her answer.

  Neither Mary nor Honoria could be pressed into attending Almack's that night. Mary claimed that she would feel too out of place and besides, she wasn't a member. Honoria said that she simply couldn't stand all the looks and gossip. No one argued with them.

  Because James had kept away from most social gatherings since the trial, they were rather surprised when he accepted the invitation, just a moment after Hope asked if he would come with them. Martha and Honoria shared a smile but didn't say anything.

  Needless to say, all eyes were on them as they entered the ballroom and Hope smiled with pride as James offered her his elbow to escort her inside, keeping his head up and looking so relaxed, that you could be forgiven for thinking that he was perfectly at ease. Only the stiffness of his arm gave him away and only Hope was privy to that piece of information, since she was holding it.

  James saw her to the cloakroom but even although he wanted to, he didn't wait for her, since they weren't a couple. Instead he headed into the ballroom and secured four glasses of punch for them. Well, perhaps tried would be a better word, as everyone seemed to want to stop him and chat. In fact it was only when Lucien joined him, who had a far more imposing air than James did, that they were allowed to return to the ladies, unmolested.

  James' heart skipped a beat as he spotted Hope chatting to another man whilst writing in her dance card, a wide smile on her face as she spoke with him. The hope that had been blossoming within him, began to wilt once again. He quickly smoothed his featured though, and smiled as he approached.

  “That's wonderful news,” Bradley said with a smile.

  “I haven't said yes to Mr Lyons yet, Brad.”

  “But you will, and you'll be wonderful at it, too.”

  “Oh, James,” Hope smiled as she noticed him approach. She accepted the glass of punch. “Thank you, and I'd like you to meet a friend of mine, a man who is, at least in part, responsible for more than a few of the scrapes I got into when I was younger. James, this is Sir Bradley Johnstone. Brad, this is Sir James Ashdown.”

  They shook hands, exch
anging the usual pleasantries, before Bradley turned back to Hope.

  “Amelia is coming this evening, so you will finally get to meet her.”

  “Oh, that's wonderful.” She smiled, turning to James. “Amelia is the lovely, although likely insane young woman, who has agreed to marry Bradley.”

  “Excuse me, I resent that remark!” he sounded affronted but he was smiling.

  “Oh, stop complaining.”

  “Do you see what I have to put up with from this woman?” Bradley asked James. “It's a wonder I still speak to her.”

  “And why do you?” James asked, only partly in jest.

  “Because she is the only woman in the whole of England who is worth dancing with. Have you had the pleasure yet?”

  “I have not, but I hope to correct that oversight tonight.” James answered.

  “Ah, there she is,” Bradley said, turning from the doorway to look at Hope. He picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I will be right back, by dear.”

  With that he headed over to the entrance and Hope craned her neck, trying to get a glimpse of the woman who had stolen his heart.

  “So, what dances do you have left?” James asked Hope, although she was clearly distracted.

  “Most at the moment.”

  “Might I have a look, and perhaps pencil myself in for a few?”

  “Of course.” She handed him her dance card and pencil without a second thought, moving slightly to get a better view of Amelia.

  James could see that Bradley had taken two dances, one in the second and one in the third set. He began writing his name into the dances he wanted.

  “Excuse us, dearest,” Martha said. “We're just going to have a word with Lord and Lady Walton, I'm sure James will take care of you.”

  “Oh, of course.” James answered, although he barely glanced up.

  Martha and Lucien walked away to greet two very good customers, as Hope turned back to Bradley and his bride to be.

  “Oh, she's very pretty.”

  James glanced over to Bradley. “Hmm,” he agreed, then went back to studying the dance card.

  “She looks very nice,” Hope continued. “I do hope that she isn't too innocent for Bradley. He has a heart of gold but he can be a bit of a scoundrel.”

  “Hmm,” James didn't bother to look up this time.

  “Oh, they're coming over, quick.” She turned back to him, almost snatching her dance card back and smiling at him.

  James looked a little nonplussed. “Sorry?”

  “Bradley and Amelia are coming. Don't make it look as if we were just staring at her!”

  James wasn't certain where this 'we' had come from but he smiled. “Of course not.”

  “Hope, Sir James.”

  They turned to Bradley.

  “Allow me to introduce Miss Amelia Kaylock. Amelia, this is my good friend, Lady Hope Beaumont and her friend, Sir James Ashdown.”

  Hope curtseyed and James bowed to her.

  “Very pleased to finally meet you,” Hope said with a wide smile.

  “And you,” Amelia answered. “Bradley talks of you often but I must say, you look far from the little urchin he described.”

  Hope laughed. “Perhaps you wouldn't say that had you seen me on the day he convinced me to play pirates by the stream at his family's estate.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. The stream was beginning to dry up for the summer, so it was little more than a muddy ditch. We strung a rope from the bough of a tree, intending to swing across the stream and of course, I went first. Unfortunately, the bough broke and I went crashing into the mud. His father was furious.”

  “How old were you?” Amelia asked.

  “Oh, about ten or eleven, I think. Needless to say, we were heavily supervised after that. In fact, I don't think we were able to get up to any more mischief that summer.”

  “No, not until we came to visit you at Christmas, and you convinced me to blacken my face with soot, so that I could convince your younger brother that I was Saint Nicholas.”

  “Well, you ruined my favourite summer dress, I had to pay you back somehow.”

  Amelia laughed. “Oh, that I would pay good money to see. I'm afraid he is even more fastidious about his dress than I am.”

  “I am not!”

  “I'm rather interested to see if we can re-enact this mud bath,” James added.

  “It wasn't a bath,” Honoria corrected him. “And to be honest, I have always suspected that Brad chose a weak branch.”

  “I did not!” Bradley defended himself again.

  “No, then why did you insist that I go first.”

  “Because you were lighter and would put less strain on the branch.”

  “Ha! See, you did think it would break.”

  “I suspected that it might, and that is all you'll get from me!”

  Hope watched Amelia as they chatted and was glad to see that she didn't seem upset with these revelations. Clearly she knew much of Bradley's past, or at least his personality. She had the feeling that Amelia could keep up with Bradley; she just hoped that he proved himself a loyal husband.

  They chatted easily for a few more minutes until Mr Barratt approached them, a friend of Bradley's, although he was known to Hope, James and Amelia. After exchanging a few words, he turned to Amelia.

  “And might you have a space on your dance card for a lonely young man this evening?”

  “I believe I have,” Amelia smiled. “Would you like a waltz, a polka, the lancers or a quadrille?”

  “Oh, I believe a lancers would be very enjoyable.”

  “Then you may have the first.”

  He turned to Hope. “And could you spare me a dance, Lady Beaumont?”

  “I'm sure I could,” she said, opening her dance card. She looked surprised to see the first three sets completely filled in, only the last two dances of the fourth set were free and, aside from two spaces that were reserved for Bradley, James had written his name into each space. She smiled as she realised that she must have taken the card back too soon for him to fill in the final two. “I'm terribly sorry, Mr Barratt, but my card appears to be full.”

  “That is a shame. I shall just have to be prompt next time, shan't I?”

  “It's always a good idea to be prompt,” she advised. “Now, if you would excuse us, I must find my parents.”

  Hope took James' arm and led him out to the terrace but once they were there, she didn't quite know what to say. She could guess what his act meant but after she had rejected him so brutally before, she didn't want to assume that he might be showing interest again. Besides, she wasn't that egotistical, he could just be playing a practical joke.

  She pulled her shawl up higher and walked to the railing. She could feel when James stepped up behind her but she couldn't bring herself to turn and face him.

  “You did still have two spaces left,” he said, his voice full of warmth.

  “Yes, but...” she swallowed. She had refused so many offers in her life and been pained by each one, that she thought that it should really be a lot easier than this to accept an offer, even if it wasn't exactly a proposal. Instead she felt tongue tied and awkward. “Well, I thought that you might like to finish the job, a full house, as it were.”

  “I would very much like that.”

  “There will be talk.”

  James stepped even closer, until she could feel his warmth through her dress, then he placed his hands on her shoulders.

  “Since when has that bothered you?” he asked.

  The warmth in his voice sent shivers down her spine.

  “James, does this gesture mean what I think it means?”

  “It does.” She could feel his breath on her ear. “I realise that we didn't get off to the best of starts but I think, well, I hope that we have come a long way since then. I knew I wanted you almost from the moment I met you, but I didn't truly appreciate you until much later. I realise that your feelings might not have changed and if they haven't-”


  The pain as he spoke those final words gave her the courage to turn and face him, then she placed one finger over his lips.

  “My feelings have changed too,” she admitted, looking up into his eyes, a hesitant smile on her lips. “But I fear that I cannot change as easily as you have done, James. I have to work; I have been designing since I first learned to draw. I am stubborn and used to doing as I like, and I would surely bring scorn onto you, especially if I write this newspaper column and start campaigning for-”

  “Hush,” he said, placing his finger over her lips this time. “I think I have already brought a lifetime's gossip on you and your family, so what is a little more. And besides, you did change for a time, Hope. After what happened with Malcolm, you became the meek and dare I say, weak creature that most women are raised to be, and I hated every second! It was like watching a puppet; she looked like you and talked like you but she wasn't you, not really. The fire behind your eyes had gone out and I missed it, far more than I ever thought I could. The only reason I didn't push you to recover as the others did, was because I felt that I had no right to. I had made so many mistakes, presumed to know better than you on so many occasions, only to be proved horribly wrong. You accepted me as a friend and companion and if that was the best I could hope for, then I was happy with that. Recently however, I have begun to hope that you might see me differently, as more than just a friend.”

  “I do,” she confessed with a smile.

  “Then I feel that I should warn you, as it were. With Mary going back to America, I am thinking of asking if the school would like me full time, as a job.”

  “You want to be a teacher?”

  “I do. And I know that I will not earn very much, nor will that profession have any prestige but teaching these last few months has been a godsend to me and I have enjoyed it far more than I might have imagined. What's more, I believe that I am good at it, inspiring young minds to be the best that they can be.”

  “I have no problem being a schoolmaster’s wife,” she assured him. “I think it's a marvellous idea.”

  “But your friends, your standing n society-”