“Oh, Uncle,” she laughed softly so no one would overhear. He stood up, and looked as noble as ever in his emerald green silk dressing gown. “I want to take care of this quickly. We all need some more sleep. I am usually an early riser, but not today. No…today I shall take the extra hours of sleep.”
“I know,” she said, yawning. “I think I could drop off right here.”
She watched her uncle open the Library door and swallowed a giggle at the sight that awaited him. Felix was on the floor with Lord Langford, with Fanny standing nearby and groaning. “I told you not to do it,” she said. “You fools.”
“Lord Langford, you shall scramble to your feet, and join me in the Library. Fanny, Felix, you may join us if you wish. I understand that Lord Langford doesn’t hide anything from Felix, so we might as well have it all out in the open with all of you present.” Once they were all seated, he began, “Lord Langford, you and my niece have brought scandal to our door. I want to do all that I can to avoid having my house disgraced. As such, you will marry my niece.”
“Fine,” he said, surprising both Hope and Christian.
“I beg your pardon?” her uncle asked, completely nonplussed.
“I gave my consent to the marriage. I know my duty. I will do what is necessary. I will away to London at once to procure the special license.”
“No. I don’t want anyone to sniff out a scandal. You will remain here at Blessing Hall, and so shall Hope. You will court her, and you shall obtain a common marriage license.”
“Aye, I shall,” he said softly. “I will not fight any of it. I do not like exercises of futility. It seems a rather fruitless endeavor to even try, and I am not a patron of lost causes.”
“That’s the old Lucky, I know. Lucky doesn’t like to lose, do you, old chap?” Felix said, with a wink and a nod.
“Would obtaining a special marriage license truly bring down a scandal around Hope and Lord Langford’s ears? I do know that it would bring Hope a bit of prestige,” Fanny murmured. “After all, special licenses are expensive, and only an elite few can procure them. Why not make Hope one of the special few, Papa? We could even go to London with Lord Langford. London is always so diverting at this time of the year. I know we haven’t gone there for a few years, but I used to enjoy the Duke of Alton’s Valentine Masquerade. He is such a jolly fellow, and he knows how to throw a wonderful party.”
Hope appreciated Fanny attempting to intervene on her behalf, but she doubted that she would be able to do anything. Christian Blessing’s mind was made up.
“You are right, Fanny. London is enjoyable during the Season. We shall away and partake of all of its delights. I suppose we have spent enough time in the Country.”
And there it was.
Her Uncle Christian could be swayed into doing anything—as long as Fanny was the one doing the swaying. She missed that. She had such a bond with her own father, and seeing Fanny with her father brought a bit of pain into her heart.
“Oh, I do adore the Country, but taking Hope under our wings and giving her some time in London might give her a bit of cachet, in the eyes of the ton. It shall certainly put darling Desi’s nose out of joint.”
A delightfully wicked gleam entered her uncle’s eyes. “You are right again, Fanny. Ah, but I shall hate leaving the Country. I do so enjoy the sedate pace out here.”
“We could return after Hope has been married, although it is Desi’s first Season, she and Aunt Elizabeth and the rest of the Fortescue girls won’t have to come until the end of February. Hope will be able to marry her love in peace. She won’t have the aunts or her sisters bothering her. It shall all be about her. Oh, what fun we shall have!”
“Not all of my sisters annoy me,” Hope murmured. “I am rather fond of a few of them. Even Desi. She can be irritating—but she will be worse if we leave her behind.”
“One or two of my sisters shall wish to go to London with us, Fanny,” Christian said softly. “As for Hope’s sisters, I do believe that only one of them, truly one of them can rub her the wrong way, and I agree with Hope. If we leave Desi behind, she won’t hear the end of it.”
“What shall we do about Miss Duffy and Lord Chorley?” Fanny asked. “I don’t wish to take her away from Lord Chorley, not when he looks so keen about paying her attention.”
“Cass has been talking about leaving Blessing Hall, and returning to London. This will suit him, I think. That way, she and Lord Chorley shan’t be parted.” Felix said. “She and you, my love, and the other Blessing and Fortescue ladies can enjoy all that London has to offer.”
It was all in hand.
They were working everything out and Hope hadn’t had to lift a finger in her own defense. She was as good as married to Lord Langford. For his part, he sat silently perusing her. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her since they had all sat down. She felt a little warm beneath his steady gaze. She could have sworn he was being entertained by it all. He no doubt believed that she had set all of this in motion.
And, maybe, she had.
Practice makes perfect after all.
Chapter Twelve
Gil sat alone in his bedchamber.
Everyone else had long since retired to their bedchambers to catch what sleep they could before the day started. The servants were the ones he felt sorry for. They would have to rise shortly to start their day, and he doubted they had gotten even four hours of sleep. If not for the Army, he might have been one of those faceless footmen or perhaps, if he was lucky, a butler.
To think that he was a lord, and a filthy rich one at that, boggled his mind. He almost had to pinch himself to believe it. He kept expecting a few missives from his family asking for more money, but none had come.
The plans had been made.
They would away to London in two days’ time. He sat gently swishing the whisky in his glass around. He couldn’t sleep. If he went to sleep, his dreams would be fretful, just as they always were. He let out a shattering breath, and stood up. Looking ruefully at his bed, he imagined having her there waiting for him.
His wife.
He had searched for a wife while his mates had seemingly fallen into matrimony, and now…now, he had fallen into a parson’s mousetrap as well.
Had she trapped him into marriage, or had he willingly walked into it? He couldn’t be certain. He knew that he had felt something world moving when they had first touched hands in the Library. Touching her had elicited such profound emotion from him. He didn’t think he could ever forget the jolt that had gone through his body—he would carry that moment with him to the end of his days. He knew that he would have eventually relented. Claiming her would have happened in its own time—what they had done out on the grounds had only quickened their joining.
In the days ahead, he would have to woo her properly. How would London affect them? Staying here in the Country would have suited him better. No matter. He would do as her family wanted. He suspected he would be doing that a lot in the coming months and years.
He drank the rest of his whisky, set the glass aside, and climbed into bed. There would be no more wild nights spent at one of the establishments of ill repute he liked to frequent while in London. He would have to abandon his rakish ways, as Felix had done before him. He and Felix weren’t the sort of men to keep a wife, and a mistress at the same time.
No, they were honorable.
Was Hope really a fairy? Or rather, part fairy. The magic in her blood had to be diluted through the generations. Her magical might couldn’t be that great. Lewis most likely outmatched her.
He had never doubted Lewis before, but he was starting to doubt him now. She hadn’t confirmed his suspicions, even though he had called her out on them several times. Either she was used to remaining mum about the subject, or she was horrified by the prospect and was waiting until he abandoned the notion entirely. He would have to spend the time in London trying to find more about her. She couldn’t keep her guard up forever.
At some point, she would wav
er, and confess all to him. All he had to do was put the charm on thick, and wait for her to fall beneath his spell. If she could bewitch him, then, he could do the same thing to her. Before she knew it, she would be telling him everything he wanted to know.
He wasn’t sufficiently drowsy yet, but his body needed sleep to deal with what lay ahead.
The last image he saw before he fell into a deep slumber was Hope.
Light radiated around her…and her glorious hair fell loosely around her shoulders. Her smile…her smile brightened his heart, and he fell asleep with that same soft smile on his lips.
Gil woke drenched in sweat.
His dreams had slowly turned to nightmares during the night.
He could hear men screaming—men dying. The din of the battle still echoed in his ears even though he was awake. The damn nightmares plagued him, and robbed him of sleep. He hadn’t gone one night without such a nightmare since Waterloo. He wasn’t haunted by the explosions, or the sound of gunshots, or the sound of steel clanging against steel. He didn’t hate the smell of gunpowder, the only thing that haunted his nightmares was the sound of his friends crying to him—the ones who had never come back from the battlefield. Some of the battles in his nightmares he didn’t even remember fighting.
Most of his mates had moved on without any lingering trauma. He hadn’t been so lucky. He chuckled ruefully, thinking about how unlucky he truly was. Throwing back his covers, he stood up on his unsteady legs. They felt like jelly beneath him. He moved over to where he had his whisky stashed, and poured himself another drink. If he downed a few more glasses, he might just be able to fall back into a dreamless slumber.
With shaking hands, he managed to pour himself a glass without spilling too much of it. Would his nightmares continue after he was married? He took great pains never to fall asleep with any of his incognitas. At least he never woke up screaming, nor did he wake up fighting. If he woke up in a violent fit, he wouldn’t be able to have Hope in the same bed with him. He couldn’t risk her safety like that.
Groaning, he raked his hand through his hair. If he couldn’t get back to sleep, it was going to be a hell of a poxy day. He didn’t have to check his reflection in the mirror to know that he looked like he had been to hell and back.
Felix knew about his nightmares, as did Lewis and Freddie but the others in the Angels of Death did not know. All he had to do was survive the next few weeks. He would have to pray that Hope would be agreeable to having her own bedchamber. He didn’t think he could chance sleeping with her in the same bed. He didn’t want her to see him as he was now. He felt weak, and he hated to feel vulnerable. He strode over to the window and pushed back the curtains to watch the sunrise. It was the start of a new day.
Another day that a bastard like him lived to see. It could hardly be considered fair that he had survived and yet, others that were far better than him had perished.
He collapsed wearily into the wingback armchair by the window, and sipped at his whisky, as he watched one of the greatest shows on Earth—the sunrise.
*****
Hope awoke with a start.
Disoriented, she looked around at her surroundings. Slowly, she remembered where she was. Shaking her head, she tried to clear her head of the images and sounds from her nightmare.
Death had touched her in those dreams.
It hadn’t been her own dream.
This dream had featured a battle, and it had been filled with soldiers. French and British soldiers, from what she could gather, some of them could have also been Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch and German troops—it had been so confusing. She thought she had heard Gilbert, Felix and Freddie’s voices, and then, just as she had been about to walk out into the fray, the dream had been ripped away from her, and she was awake.
Wide awake.
Gil had woken up, and by doing so, she had been catapulted out of his dream.
There was no way she could return to that terrible dream. She swallowed thickly. What would she do if he fell back asleep and she fell into his dreams again? Furthermore, what would she do if he had the same dreams again? They…they had been dreadful. She could still hear the anguished cries of the men—suffering—so much suffering, and death.
She shuddered. She couldn’t control it, she had tried to leave his dream and had found the effort too taxing. She had smelled the gunpowder, and felt the ground beneath her feet. She had seen the fog as it had swept in and obscured the line of sight for the soldiers. She had felt their panic growing within them as they realized that they could not see the enemy who were quickly closing in on their location.
The wind howling outside her window, took her mind away from the echoes of the nightmare that lingered around her… Standing up, she walked over to the window to look out across the stormy landscape. The sun was coming up, and with it another glorious day. It was going to rain though, she could feel it right down to her bones. She prayed that the weather decided to clear up in time for their trip to London.
Was he still awake?
She didn’t dare go back to sleep. While she was curious about how the nightmare would resolve itself, she wasn’t a glutton for punishment. She had seen enough of that bloody battle to last her the rest of her lifetime.
How could she tell him what he needed to know? What he kept begging her to confess to him? Her father had told her to keep their secret a secret. He said that most would only think her mad if she told them that magic ran through her blood. He warned her to only tell the one they loved after they were married. She and Gilbert were not married yet.
Generations ago, a fairy of small repute had married into the Noble House of Fortescue. As she hadn’t hailed from a Noble House, no one from the Fairy Court had been sent to retrieve her. They had acted as if Sabrina Morgan had never existed. Which was just as well, actually. That meant no one was keeping an eye on their family.
Sabrina had turned her back on all that she knew, and with her marriage to a human she had forsaken all of her fairy qualities, all of it save for her special kind of magic. That same kind of magic ran through Hope’s blood, but she didn’t rely upon it. She never called upon her active abilities, knowing that they came with a deep price that she was unwilling to pay. She had briefly used her glamour on Gilbert, and she had held back on even doing that until she knew how he truly felt about her. She wouldn’t have to use any of her magical wiles on him from here on in. Her uncle had taken that matter out of her hands. He would make quite certain that Gilbert Jones became her husband.
As for Desi—well, Hope was loathe to leave her youngest sister behind. Her other sisters couldn’t control the little imp, and would let her run wild if she left her behind at Elysium Hall. There was only one thing to do—she would have to bring the little pest with her to London.
Ah, the things she would do for love.
Chapter Thirteen
The big day had arrived.
Her uncle had sent an express to London to tell the servants at Blessing House to prepare for their imminent arrival. His house in London was majestic. It was as large as a country retreat and could easily house all of them, which was fortuitous, as her aunts and Hope’s mother, and all of her sisters had decided to come with them.
On the one hand, it was a good thing, and on the other hand, it was a disaster. Her mother was sniffing out a plot, and her sisters, aside from Desi, had already figured it all out. They were more excited than Hope, wishing that she would make a hasty trip to the altar so they could find the same happiness. Her uncle had told her earlier that morning that he would provide her with a dowry, and that he would ensure that the whole ton would be talking about it. She only wished she could see the look on her former betrothed’s face when he found out.
Oh, how sullen he would be!
Nervousness fluttered within her stomach. She looked at the retinue of carriages they had. It was as if they were going to invade Mayfair. Lord Langford and Lord Blessing were going to ride alongside the carriages. She had been assigned
to the carriage that would carry her Uncle Christian, Lord Chorley and her sister Desi.
Fortunately, they would not be cramped, but she didn’t look forward to traveling for such a great length of time with her youngest sister, even though she was right where she needed to be so Hope could keep a watchful eye on her.
“It is exciting, isn’t it?” Fanny asked softly, as servants rushed past them out to the carriages to make sure that everything had been loaded.
“It is something,” she murmured. “I don’t know how I shall handle being cooped up in a carriage with Desi.”
“It won’t be that terrible. Papa shall keep her in hand. He doesn’t suffer fools gladly.”
“Desi isn’t exactly easy to control.”
“Papa knows how to control unruly troops.”
“I don’t think even he can tackle Desi.”
“Oh, you would be surprised at what my father can do,” Fanny said, wrapping an arm around Hope and pulling her into an affectionate side hug. “Before you know it, we will be in London, so you mustn’t fret. Enjoy the moments leading up to it.”
“You are right,” Hope relented, relaxing slightly. Fanny released her, and went over to the housekeeper to see if everything was going as it should be.
“I don’t want to ride with you and Uncle Christian,” Desi said, joining Hope once Fanny had left. Hope looked over at her. Desi was doing her best to pout, while still remaining pretty.
“I don’t think you have a choice, Desi,” Hope said. “Come on, we are in the lead carriage,” she said, walking out into the early morning sunlight.
She wished she could ride with Gilbert. The best she could hope for was looking dreamily out the window and praying he would draw alongside her carriage at some point in time.
“If you don’t behave, Desi, Uncle Christian shan’t let you go to any balls, or routs, and he shall keep you from going to Gunter’s to have the treats you so adore. He will also keep you from going out to ride in Hyde Park…or well, anything else that you like to do while in Town.”
His Candlemas Hope Page 11
