“But there might be more,” Hope said. “If one man thought it might be possible to deceive us, perhaps others may come.”
“Then we shall deal with all of them,” Hugo said grandly. “No one can fool us. The Hall is ours, Hope. No one can take it away from us.”
Except the real Ernest, she thought, but did not quite like to dampen his enthusiasm by mentioning it.
All through breakfast, Hugo babbled away excitedly, with James and occasionally Cousin Henry helping to tell the story, although it was a long time before Hope could make sense of it, for Hugo told it so disjointedly. And at the far end of the table, heads bent together, Mr Burford and Belle were deep in earnest conversation. Talking about the babies, no doubt. He was so serious, Mr Burford, and she wondered that she had never noticed it before.
By contrast, Hugo was fired with enthusiasm for the future. He loved the Hall more than his betrothed, she understood that, but he was full of plans, full of joy, full of enthusiasm. He was handsome, too, in a dark, dishevelled way, and he dressed very well on his limited budget. How well he would look when he could call upon the best tailors in London to outfit him! It would be no hardship to be Mrs Hugo Allamont.
After breakfast, while the Willowbye visitors disappeared to supervise their packing, Hugo seized Hope’s hand and kissed it.
“Go and fetch your bonnet, Hope,” he said, grinning. “I need some fresh air.”
“Should we not wait for Mama to emerge from her bedchamber?” Hope said. “I know we are betrothed but I am still supposed to be chaperoned.”
“Oh, pooh to that,” he said with an airy wave. “We need not go far from the house if it bothers you, but I cannot sit still, you know, and a walk is more fun with company.”
Obediently she fetched her bonnet and a shawl, and let him lead her down the terrace steps and across the lawn. The dogs bounced enthusiastically around their feet, and Hugo bounced almost as much, still too full of the morning’s adventure to be still. Walking sometimes alongside Hope and sometimes backwards in front of her, his hands windmilling constantly, he rattled away in excitement. She smiled, for his happiness wound itself around her like gentle wisps of cloud, lightening her heart. So when they reached the shrubbery and he spun round to wrap her in his arms, she made no protest and lifted her face for his kiss. His lips were so warm, so firmly pressed against hers, that when he broke away she wondered if her own lips were bruised, they tingled so.
“Ah, Hope!” he murmured into her ear. “This will be so good, you will see. What a fine husband and wife we shall be. Mr and Mrs Hugo Allamont of Allamont Hall. It will sound splendid in London, do you not agree?”
Before waiting for her answer, he pulled her tightly against him, his body solid and masculine, smelling faintly of horse and dog and something indefinably male. And while she was wrapped in his strong embrace, her worries about Ernest and Frank and the Hall and this strange marriage that she had agreed to slipped out of her mind for a time, as she let herself luxuriate in his passionate kisses.
7: Assembly
“Well, that is too bad, I declare!” Lady Sara said, setting down her teacup with a clatter that made Hope jump.
“Mama?”
Her mother waved the letter she was reading. “The bishop will not cancel this wretched viewing that he has ordered.”
“But the estate will not be going to the church now, so what need is there for anyone to view the place?”
“Precisely the point I made when I wrote to advise him of your betrothal to Hugo. But listen to this. ‘It behoves me to follow the counsel of prudence in this matter, for the marriage has not yet taken place. So far as I am aware, the banns have not thus far been called and no notice has been posted in the usual vehicles for such announcements. It is entirely possible that the marriage may not take place at all, for young ladies and gentlemen have not the constancy of purpose of their elders, and furthermore, all our earthly concerns are in the Hands of our Wise Father, such that none of us shall be permitted to see what will come to pass. Until the happy event of which we speak has indeed occurred and acceptable notification of the same has been received by me, we must proceed on the path previously agreed.’ Pompous old fool! He as good as calls you a flighty piece of baggage.”
Hope was rather shocked to hear her mother speak so forcefully, but the image of the bishop saying anything of the sort made her giggle.
Her mother tutted at her. “And now you act as if he is right.” But then, quite abruptly, her anger turned to laughter. “It seems to me that your approach is the better one after all. It is absurd, of course. We shall have people marching all over the house to see if they would like to buy it, when it is not going to be available for purchase at all.”
“Perhaps that will deter those who might otherwise have wished to come,” Hope said.
“You may be right. But we must make sure that the betrothal is well known, so that everyone will see the futility of looking around the house. Hugo must send the notice to the Gazette and the Chronicle, and we must make all our friends aware of your happy news. Go and put on one of your best gowns, dear, and drag Hugo out of the book room. I shall order the carriage at once. We are going to make some calls.”
They spent the afternoon working their way around Lower Brinford, moving further afield the following day. It was rather pleasant to be congratulated by all of her acquaintance, Hope discovered. Everyone, it seemed, was happy for her, and delighted that Allamont Hall would not now be given to the church to be sold to strangers. Hope was kissed repeatedly, and hugged, and wept over. Hugo’s hand was pumped, and his back slapped in jocular fashion. Many bottles of Madeira were broached to toast the happy couple. Miss Endercott smiled and seemed unsurprised. Lady Humbleforth showed them a spectacularly ugly epergne and promised to make them a present of it for their dining table. Grace squealed and clapped her hands excitedly. Only Mr Wills, still in deep mourning, shook his head sadly and said he hoped they would be more fortunate than his dear departed wife.
“You must wear your best gown for the next assembly,” her mother said as they returned to Allamont Hall in the carriage. “What do you have?”
“The green with the net overskirt is very pretty,” Hope said. “Or the gold…”
“I will have a look through your wardrobe, and help you choose, and I am sure I can find a suitable piece from my jewellery box. Or perhaps we will go into Brinchester a little early for the assembly, and Hugo can buy you a nice necklace or earrings or some such to celebrate the occasion. Have you much money to hand, Hugo?”
“Fifty or so, no more than that. That will not be enough, I daresay.”
“Not for something appropriately impressive, no. But there will be estate cash lying about, so we can use that.”
“The tenants’ rent money?” Hugo said, his eyebrows rising.
“It will be your money soon enough,” Lady Sara said crisply. “You may dance the first set with Hope, and the one before supper, but no more than that, for it would not do for you to be seen to be trailing about after your betrothed, you know. A proper degree of observance, but otherwise you may go off and do whatever men do at assemblies.”
“They dance, mostly,” Hugo said, eyes twinkling. “Or should I retreat to the card rooms and drink a gallon of Madeira like the old married men?”
She laughed, and tapped his hand playfully. “If you wish to amuse yourself at the tables, that would be acceptable. Or you may dance if you wish, but not more than once with any lady. In case Hope should become jealous, you understand. And Hope must not stand up with any gentleman more than once, in case you should become jealous.” She laughed again, a melodious tinkling sound. “I hope the baron will be there, for his wife is a dreadful gossip and will be sure to spread the news everywhere. And I must see if I can spot Lady Corning…”
Hope listened in amazement, hardly daring to say a word in case she drew her mother’s censorious eye. When had she ever taken an interest in what any of her daughters wore, or
offered jewellery, or talked in that teasing way? It was the strangest sensation to feel that there were depths to her mother that she had barely suspected.
When Lady Sara paused for breath, Hope tucked her hand around her mother’s arm and said, “Thank you, Mama.”
“Whatever for? Offering a little motherly advice? Is that not my role in life? Besides, you are the last to be entering the state of matrimony, and naturally I want to fire you off creditably.”
So that explained it, Hope decided. Her mother had always said that she wanted nothing more than to see her daughters married off as soon as may be, accepting the first man who offered. Grace and Hope must have tried her patience to its limits by refusing so many eligible offers. No doubt Mama’s life would be easier once Hope was gone, and she could do as she pleased, travelling to Shropshire or London or wherever she wished, without a worry about chaperons or instilling proper behaviour into the six of them. Her work would be done, and she would be free.
Hope sighed. If Mama was regaining her freedom, Hope was just about to lose hers.
~~~~~
At the assembly, Hugo had done his duty by Hope, and a couple of other young ladies besides, and felt justified in retreating from the dance floor, and out of the reach of those with calculating eyes who saw him now as the future owner of Allamont hall and a man of consequence in the county. He made his way to the upper floor where the card and supper rooms were situated, and secured a glass of Madeira from a servant passing by with a tray. There was a gallery here from which those not dancing could look down on the couples below, giving a fine vista of the movements of the dance. Hugo turned his gaze to the whirlpool of colour below, and there she was, her face glowing with delight in the dance, her skirts swirling around her, and her arms exquisitely positioned. Lord, could she dance, his Hope. His Hope, totally, utterly his. He smiled as he watched her move this way and that, the picture of an elegant young lady, and could not deny that he was a lucky man.
A slight cough at his elbow alerted him to his surroundings once again. A man of perhaps fifty years, soberly if correctly dressed, his face suffused with embarrassment.
“My deepest apologies for disturbing your perusal of the charming scene below, sir, but might I enquire where you obtained your refreshment? For a glass of something would be most welcome just now.”
“Of course. The supper room will have something, but the card rooms have the best selection.”
The man looked blankly about him. Hugo could have snapped his fingers and summoned a servant, for several hovered within sight, but he was mellow with the pleasure of watching his betrothed and minded to be helpful. Besides, there was something familiar about the man, and he did not want to begin his stewardship of the Allamont estate by offending some visiting dignitary or minor nobleman.
“Allow me to show you the way,” he said genially, and then, as the man began to protest, he added, “Please, it will be my pleasure. You must be new to Brinchester, I think.”
“Oh yes,” the man said, puffing alongside. “We have been here not yet a month, and this is our first assembly.”
“Here we are,” Hugo said, pushing open a door. “This is the large card room. Most of the games may be found in here, if you are minded for cards or dice, but no one plays high. The serious play takes place in the smaller card rooms. Now, here is the decent claret, or brandy, or perhaps you would prefer Madeira. What will you have?”
“Oh, claret would be most acceptable, sir, but please, there is no need for you to—”
But Hugo merely smiled, poured a generous measure and handed it to him. “There, sir. Now you are officially a resident of Brinchester. Your good health, and may your time here be everything you hope for.”
“Sir, your kindness to a stranger is beyond everything, and I have not the words to express my gratitude adequately.”
“But I do not feel as if you are a stranger at all,” Hugo said. “Have we met somewhere? I have usually a good memory for faces.”
“I do not believe so,” the man said, but he looked a little uncomfortable.
Instantly, Hugo remembered. “Of course! You are the gentleman who thought he recognised the Lady Sara Allamont.”
Now he flushed deeply. “I am mortified to remember that day,” he said. “Such a mistake to make! Now that I have been in the town a little while, I have been made aware of who Lady Sara is, and I cannot reflect on that day but with horror. I pray that I never meet her again, for then my humiliation would be complete.”
“She would not remember it, I am sure. Shall you stay for the gaming? If so I must leave you, for my feet inevitably draw me to the dancing, where my betrothed is the shining star of all those on the floor. But if you will bear me company, you may tell me of yourself and your opinion of our fair town. I am Hugo Allamont of Allamont Hall,” he added, and a thread of pure pleasure passed through him as he spoke the words.
“Leonard Carpenter,” the man said. “I am quite delighted to make your acquaintance, Mr Allamont.”
His delight lasted all the way back to the gallery. Hugo pointed out Hope and then, because he suspected that Carpenter would prefer to know so that he could avoid her, Lady Sara. She was surrounded by a great collection of family and well-wishers, all eager to know if the rumour that was circulating the room could be true, and offering their felicitations. Half the dowagers of Brinshire had gathered around to congratulate Lady Sara on arranging respectable marriages for all six of her daughters, and although they no doubt told themselves that substantial dowries accounted for much of the success, still they surely envied her the achievement.
“That is my family,” Mr Carpenter said rather sadly. In a far corner, a little apart from everyone, sat a matron and a young lady, dressed in their finest, smiling determinedly. Beside them, a glum-faced young man. “My sister is a widow, and has been living in a quiet way under my roof for some years, but quite unexpectedly her boy — Simon Verdun — has become heir to his grandfather’s title and estate, and now the viscount wants the lad and his sister brought into society. Once they are up to snuff, he will take them to London, but we are to live here in the meantime.” He shrugged. “His lordship foots the bills, so we cannot object, but it has been an upheaval, that much is certain. We all miss the Shropshire countryside, and of course, as outsiders, we know no one.”
Hugo knew all about being an outsider. Those first days and weeks at school had been the most terrifying of his life, so much so that he had never wanted to repeat the experience at university. And then they had lived so remote at Willowbye, and been so constrained for money for years, that he had never been able to move in society as he should. Having no money of his own and no expectations, many of the masculine pursuits, such as gambling or driving his own curricle, had been denied him, and mamas had steered their daughters away from him. He was filled with a desire to help these outsiders find their place in society.
“You know me,” Hugo said. “Does Miss Verdun dance? Will you introduce me, so that I may solicit her hand?”
The expression of delighted realisation that swept the man’s face made Hugo smile. And the pure pleasure in Miss Verdun’s eyes when he made his request was all the reward he needed. She was not a confident dancer, but with a little help she managed perfectly well. Her features were regular rather than beautiful, but her conversation was sensible and she showed an elegance of manner and dress that suggested she would not lack admirers. When he took her back to her mama, Hugo took Mr Carpenter aside.
“Does Miss Verdun have a dowry? It will help her take off if she does.”
“Fifteen thousand,” he whispered.
“And the boy?”
“He will have four or five thousand a year when he is Viscount Shillingham.”
Hugo’s eyebrows rose. “Shillingham, eh? I will spread the word, but if he dances at all, get him onto the floor. See the gentleman with the bright red waistcoat over there? He will introduce Mr Verdun to any young lady he wishes to partner.”
And so Hugo spent much of the evening industriously informing everyone he could of the identity and wealth of the newcomers, and, Brinshire society being no less ambitious than any other, before long both the young people had as many partners as they could wish, and their mama was making friends with the other matrons.
Hugo reclaimed Hope for the dance before supper, and as he led her up the stairs his father appeared at his elbow.
“Your benevolence is unstinting tonight,” Henry said with a smile. “Who are they, these provincials you have taken under your wing?”
“They are no more provincial than we are,” Hugo said sharply. “They are from the depths of Shropshire, just as we are from the depths of Brinshire. They will not be provincial for long, however, for the boy is heir to Viscount Shillingham.”
“Ah. And how did you meet them?”
“A chance meeting with Carpenter on the street. He approached Cousin Sara in the mistaken belief that she was an acquaintance of his.”
Settling Hope with her sisters, the two men went in search of food for the ladies.
“Where did he meet Sara?” Henry asked, as they picked over what was left of a goose.
Hugo shrugged. “He never said. Why the interest in a provincial man?”
Henry grinned. “They come from Shropshire. Sara regularly goes to Shropshire. She has a liking for provincials, too — remember Eddington? Carpenter looks the same type, fresh from the warehouses, not entirely comfortable mingling with the gentry. It is entirely possible that they have met under circumstances which, perhaps, she would not wish to admit to. Have you no curiosity regarding her activities there? Even if you have not, I confess that I would love to know what she gets up to, and if this man has met her…”
“He was mistaken in that,” Hugo said.
Hope (The Daughters of Allamont Hall Book 6) Page 6
