“Will not be affected. People will see it as a charitable endeavour on your part, and I have more than enough money for us to live very well.”
James looked into her eyes as warmth filled his heart. She didn't care. She didn't care if he had money or power or standing, she only cared for him. He put his arms around her waist, then slowly he inclined his head until his lips met hers.
Hope closed her eyes to better savour the kiss and James deepened it, causing her to whimper softly and wrap her arms around him, clinging tightly. Hope had kissed a few boys in her time (Bradley being one of them) but she had never felt anything like this before. She felt as if her skin were on fire, burning with a need that she was unfamiliar with, but which consumed her nonetheless.
James ended the kiss, fearful of becoming too improper and rested his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavily.
Neither of them spoke; an experience like that didn't need words.
They heard the first few bars of the waltz coming from inside, letting people know that the first set was about to start.
James stood up straight and stepped back. He held his hand out for her and raised a questioning eyebrow, silently asking 'Are you ready to do this?'
Hope smiled and nodded, placing her hand in his so that he could escort her inside. They joined Bradley and Amelia to make up their foursome for the dance, but they weren't really paying much attention to anyone else. Bradley and Amelia shared a few knowing smiles as the dance progressed, having picked up on the new tension between Hope and James.
When they danced the polka together, a few others began to notice how smitten they seemed with one another.
Martha directed Lucien's attention over to the couple and they watched as Hope and James danced, as if they were the only two people in the room.
“I had begun to fear that she might never fall in love,” Lucien admitted, smiling at his daughter's evident happiness.
Martha shared that sentiment. It wasn't that she or Lucien had ever felt that Hope must marry, only that being in love brought so much joy and excitement to life, and they wanted all of their children to have that same feeling.
Lucien put his arm around Martha's shoulder and drew her to him, as she put her arm about his waist and together, they watched their daughter dance.
By the end of the first set, with a total of four dances together, tongues throughout the hall had begun to wag but as James led Hope to the refreshment table, no one bothered them. They were so happy, so focused on each other, that somehow it seemed rude to intrude on their moment.
Chapter Thirty
Marchwood Hall had been in turmoil for the best part of a month now, although Martha preferred to think that it was organised chaos. Lucien disagreed somewhat but his frequent utterances of disbelief at what had become of his home, were never heartfelt.
And now the day was finally upon them. The day he would lose Hope.
He couldn't help but smile as he entered her bedroom and saw her wearing the dress that Martha had worn all those years ago. It had been altered slightly to fit her figure and modernise it a little, but it was unmistakably the same dress.
“You look beautiful,” he told her, his voice choked with emotion.
Hope smiled back at him.
The dress was a little old fashioned but it was still beautiful, and with only a month to plan their wedding, some concessions had to be made. Hope didn't mind in the slightest; if this dress brought her even a little of the happiness that her parents had shared over the years, she would be very a lucky woman.
Lucien approached his daughter and, taking hold of her shoulders, placed a kiss on her forehead.
“I just have to have the veil attached, Papa, then I'll be ready.”
“Take as long as you need,” he told her, stepping away so that her lady's maid could complete her work. “I'll wait downstairs.”
Martha was waiting for him in the hallway and shook her head as she saw his slightly melancholy air.
“She's only moving next door!” Martha teased. That was how she referred to the former Arundell Hall, although it was now called Hope House.
“And the day after tomorrow, she's leaving for America for six weeks on honeymoon. Six weeks!”
“She will be home before we know it,” Martha tried to reassure him, putting her arms around his waist and stretching up to place a kiss on his lips. Not that he seemed to notice, his gaze was drawn to the staircase, waiting for Hope to appear.
“Will she? What if she is as enamoured of the place as Honoria and Mary?”
“Then we will just have to up-sticks and follow her,” Martha tried to reassure him. “But trust me. Hope loves this land as much as you do; she will be back, I promise you.”
Lucien finally looked down to his wife and tried to relax. He knew that he was overreacting but he couldn't help it. He also had a very strong desire to inform James that if he should ever hurt Hope, Lucien wouldn't be afraid of getting his shotgun out.
“Ssh,” Martha said softly, stretching up to kiss him once again. This time he responded, deepening the kiss.
“Oh, please! This is my wedding day! Can't I have one single day where you two aren't the most in love in all of Marchwood?”
They knew Hope wasn't serious. Well, not completely serious.
“We will be on our best behaviour,” Martha assured her.
“At least until after the wedding breakfast,” Lucien added with a smirk.
Finally they stepped out of each other’s embrace and Martha gasped as she turned, to see Hope nearing the bottom of the staircase.
“Oh, darling, you look wonderful.”
Hope beamed at her. Lucien however, seemed to have been rendered dumb, so Martha elbowed him gently to nudge him out of his stupor.
“Now we just need Charity,” Martha said.
“She went ahead to the church with Gus and Bart,” Lucien said. “She was getting a little fidgety whilst waiting.”
“Well, let's just hope she hasn't gotten into any mischief at the church.”
“If she has, she'll have me to answer to.” Hope tried to sound ominous but she was just too nervous at the moment.
“Are you ready?” Martha asked, stepping up to her daughter.
Hope nodded and Lucien stepped between them, holding one elbow out for each lady.
“Your carriage awaits,” he said, guiding them out to the driveway, where the wedding carriage waited. It was the same carriage they usually used, only decorated with white flowers and drawn by four grey horses. Lucien helped them into the carriage and he tried to ignore his misgivings as they made the short journey to the church.
The Marchwood Estate church wasn't very large and as such, it seemed very crowded with so many guests, not to mention, so many flowers.
Charity came down the aisle first with her brother, Bart, then the best man and first bridesmaid; Honoria and Gus came down the aisle together. As was customary, James escorted Martha.
It was quite a change from her wedding here to Lucien, which has consisted of just nine people, including the priest, bride and groom. Still, she didn't regret a single thing about her wedding day and come to think of it, she felt self-conscious just walking down the aisle as the bride's mother, so she probably would have felt very awkward if she'd had this many guests.
She smiled her approval of James, then stepped back and turned to wait for Hope.
Hope glided down the aisle, as if she were floating on air. She was smiling but also clearly nervous. They paused at the alter and for just a moment, Martha feared that Lucien would not relinquish his hold on Hope but finally he released her hand, then stepped back and escorted Martha the few paces to the front pew. She took his hand, knowing that it was difficult for him to watch his oldest daughter getting married. So far, he had been the only man in her life and as much as he wanted for her to be happy, he didn't like that it was about to change.
When the priest asked if anyone knew of any reason that they might not
be joined in marriage, Martha tightened her grip to the point of pain and held her breath but thankfully, the question went unanswered.
From Lucien's perspective, the ceremony seemed to fly by in record time and almost before he had noticed, they were heading back to the house for the wedding breakfast. That too flew past and as Hope kissed him goodbye and got into the carriage to take her to Hope House, he wondered how everything had gone so quickly. And despite what Martha said to the contrary, he was almost certain that he hadn't given a speech.
He stood in the driveway, seemingly stunned as his daughter drove away in the carriage. Martha took his hand and led him to their bedroom, where she left him whilst she saw their guests away.
When she returned he was at the window, looking out over the gardens. She came up behind him and put her arms around his waist, causing him to turn sideways and put an arm around her shoulders.
“I taught her to ride up in that field,” he said, pointing to the field beyond the gardens. “She did her first jump there, barely six inches high but she was grinning like a loon.”
“I remember, I had to come out and order you both to come in and wash up for dinner.”
“I don't suppose I can teach her anything anymore.”
“She's still your daughter,” Martha said. “She will live just a ten minute ride away, she still owns a third of the glove business and she still designs for the outerwear company. We haven't lost her, Lucien, we've just gained another son.”
“I wish I could believe that.”
“You can.” She smiled up at him. To most people he was intimidating but they didn't get to see this side of him. “Now, come away. The servants and children are under orders not to disturb us for the rest of the day unless we ring, and after the boys have gone back to school, you, me and Charity are going to Blackpool for a week.”
“But work-”
“But nothing! Lucien, I have made all the arrangements, no one will miss us and if you agree, I will let you buy Charity her first pony when we get back.”
Lucien looked suspicious. Charity could ride but only on the boys' old pony, who was past his best and should really be retired soon, but Martha had always resisted buying Charity her own pony.
“Why this sudden change of heart?”
“Because I was worried about losing Charity to you and your silly horses, like I did with Hope.”
“You never lost her-”
“I know, but it felt that way sometimes. You would be gone all day sometimes, on your hacks and having your picnics. But if you can be a grown up about Hope marrying, then I can be grown up about Charity getting a pony.”
“You know, you could always learn to ride and come with us,” Lucien said with a smile. His wife's aversion to riding, although not to horses themselves, had always amused him.
“Yes, I could also jump off the roof, but I don't intend to do that either.”
Lucien laughed and held her to him, kissing the top of her head.
“So, you say we won't be disturbed for the rest of the day?”
“Not unless we ring down for something.”
“What on earth are we going to do with ourselves?”
Martha smiled coyly. “I don't know what you mean.”
Lucien swung her into his arms, causing her to shriek and laugh.
“Put me down!”
He did, on the bed.
James helped Hope down from the carriage and she got her first look at their new home. She had seen it before, obviously, when she visited Honoria but now it felt different.
The staff, including those from below stairs, were lined up between the carriage and the front door and Hope stopped to say 'hello' to each of them. After Malcolm's death, Hope had been paying their wages, knowing that the house would go to Honoria and that she wouldn't want them put out of a job.
James, with Honoria's help, had spent a lot of time over the past month making it into a family home for Hope and James.
As the second son in his family, James didn't have a lot of money but he did receive a stipend from his grandmother's will. Using that money, as well as raiding the furniture that the Beaumonts kept in storage, and the Manor House, where Lucien's mother, the Dowager Countess, had lived out her final days, allowed them to make the improvements.
The walls were hung with new artwork, most of the windows had new curtains, the rugs were new and the furniture was much less formal, far more in keeping with Hope's tastes.
She went from room to room, marvelling at James' good taste.
She went into what would be his study, although she had never been in here before. Hanging above the fireplace, opposite the desk, was a portrait of Hope sitting upon Queeny, her old pony, painted when she was 17 years old.
“How did you get this?” she asked, approaching the painting that had hung in her father's study for the past six years.
“Well, I had to promise that you would sit for a new portrait when we get back, but I thought that with six weeks, I would be able to talk you into it.”
Hope turned and laughed.
“What?” James looked perplexed.
“I'm sorry, it's just that Papa must think that he's got the better of you; I hated sitting for portraits. So much so that he had to bribe me with Shelly to get me to sit for this one.”
“Oh, well, I still have six weeks to talk you into it. Perhaps I could bribe you will a genuine cowboy horse.”
Hope laughed again and put her arms around his neck. “You don't need to bribe me,” she assured him. “Consider it my wedding present to you.”
James smiled. “So, are you ready to see the first floor?”
Hope's smile faded slightly.
“Don't worry, darling, I know you're nervous but you have nothing to fear.”
“I know,” she put on a brave smile. “I trust you.”
James swept her into his arms and carried her up the staircase. The bedroom door was ajar so he kicked it open, then set Hope back onto her feet.
“Oh, Lord,” she said, stepping towards the four poster bed. “That's my bed! And my fireside chairs! And that painting was in my room this morning. That doll was a present from Papa. And that's the sampler that Charity made for me last year.”
James couldn't help but smile.
“The staff went to work the moment you left, dismantling the bed; we had a cart and horse waiting by the stable block to bring the bed here. I asked your mother to make a list of possessions that were sentimental to you and your lady's maid collected them and brought them here. You can collect anything else you want of course but I wanted you to feel at home. I'm sorry for the deception.”
“Sorry?” She turned to him, incredulous. “This was so thoughtful. Thank you so much, James, this means the world to me.”
“You mean the world to me, my dear.” He leaned down and kissed her softly.
Hope melted into his embrace, her arms going around him and her hands running over the planes of his back. Suddenly she felt a pull at the laces of her dress as James untied the bow.
Hope pulled back, blushing and looking down.
“I should call Hopkins,” she said.
James cupped her face and gently tilted her head up.
“I gave her the rest of the day off,” he said. “I'm your lady's maid today. You don't need to blush around me, my love.”
His expression was full of such adoration that Hope couldn't help but feel calm under his gaze. Her nervous smile turned teasing.
“All right, but I do hope that you know how to do a chignon, or I'm afraid that I may have to dispense with your services.”
“I don't know about that, but I am very good at removing garters.”
“Oh, are you now? And how did you discover this talent?” she asked, playfully crossing her arms in mock anger.
James actually blushed. “It's a natural gift. I'm told that all the men in my family have it, going back ten generations.”
Hope giggled and turned around. “Very well, Ashdown,
you may help me disrobe for my husband.”
James began loosening the laces of the dress until it was loose enough that he could push it off one shoulder, then he became distracted by the creamy skin at her neck. He leaned down and placed a series of feather-light kisses from her neck, along her shoulder.
The last of her nerves evaporated under his gentle touch and Hope leaned back into him, her head tilting to one side, allowing him to kiss her neck.
James undressed her slowly, exploring her body as he went and savouring the experience, as if she were a priceless present. Taking her lead from her husband, Hope returned the favour, undressing James and caressing each new area of skin that she exposed.
As Hope looked back at the shores of England, she couldn’t help but muse on how much her life had changed since Honoria had come into her life.
“You aren’t home sick already, are you?” Honoria asked as she came up behind Hope and leaned against the railing.
Most of the passengers had gone inside once faces were no longer visible in the crowd. Now England was barely visible and Hope was the only person left up on deck.
“No,” she smiled at her friend. “I was just thinking about how you changed my life. I could never have imagined that a little over a year after meeting you, I would be sailing with you to America on honeymoon, married to James, no less!”
“I must say, the change in James is startling.” Honoria smiled. “You and your family effected a big change in him.”
“That’s all down to you,” Hope assured her. “He was devastated when he discovered your diaries.”
“He has always been a good man at heart, that I cannot deny, but it was you who awakened his humanity. Hope, it was you who showed him the error of his beliefs. I was just an example of what can happen to women.”
“Well, perhaps we both played a part,” Hope said, linking her arm through Honoria’s. “Either way, thank you for bringing him into my life.”
“I must say, you also changed my life, and I think my debt is probably the larger.”
“Well, I took you from your husband but you gave me mine, so perhaps we’re even?”
“Perhaps,” Honoria agreed with a smile. “Now, dinner will be served shortly, so we should probably head inside and get ready.”
Degrees of Hope Page 25
