His Candlemas Hope

by Marly Mathews

  Somehow, he had to mend what was broken between them. He had to set about and make her see that he hadn’t meant to be so hard on her.

  Her uncle would never allow her to slip out of becoming leg-shackled with him. He hoped she understood that. She couldn’t risk a second scandal. If she did, her name would be utterly ruined.

  Fighting the urge to chase after her, he turned away from Blessing House, and started walking in the direction of Evesham House.

  He had a ball to dress for.

  *****

  Hope had dressed herself in a dowdy mustard colored frock, and hadn’t allowed the maid to touch her hair. She had pulled it back severely, braiding and pinning the hair in a massive pile on top of her head. She had ornamented her hair with a white ostrich-plume. This particular hairstyle looked hideous on her. She surveyed her reflection in the mirror with satisfaction. She looked hideous. Or, at least, she believed she looked hideous. No jewelry adorned her, and her eyes looked rather listless.

  She had attempted to wiggle out of having to go to the ball, but her mother wouldn’t hear of it. Her order to attend still stung. If she had been like Desi, she would have found a way to gain revenge against her mother. Instead, she had sagged her shoulders, and had complied with her mother’s wishes.

  “You won’t have to worry about having any other potential suitors at the ball, not with the way you are dolled up,” Faith murmured, coming in to her bedchamber. “It looks as if you have raided Mama’s wardrobe.”

  “I did,” she said cheekily. “This wretched looking frock is from Mama’s wardrobe. It is from a few season’s past, and the feather…” she said, delicately touching it, “the feather is Mama’s as well. I asked her if I could borrow a few articles from her, and she waved her hand dismissively, and told me I could take whatever I wanted, as long as it wasn’t from this season.”

  “Ah, that is Mama. Generous to a fault,” Faith murmured.

  “Indeed,” Hope smiled sadly.

  “Are things truly over between you and Lord Langford?”

  “Yes. I don’t want to see him again, and I told him as much. You shan’t have to worry about arranging a private assignation for me with him. I have said all I needed to say to him earlier.”

  “I cannot believe he was so cruel,” Faith sighed.

  “What should I have expected? I barely know the man, and what I thought I knew of him, wasn’t right. I have made that mistake before…and to think that I have done it again…I am such a fool.”

  “Uncle Christian might not let you get away with not marrying him. He can be rather stubborn when he wants to be, and if you do not marry Lord Langford, I doubt you will have another chance to do so. Other men in the ton might...”

  “Stay away from me?” she asked. “I know, and I know that I run the risk of having Uncle Christian not approve of it…and if I have to, I shall leave Blessing House, and this family…forever.”

  “What shall you do?” Faith asked incredulously.

  “I shall…I shall become a governess for some family amongst the gentry. I shall endeavor to find a family that doesn’t know of the Fortescues or the Blessings.”

  “That shall be difficult. Uncle Christian will track you down, and drag you back.”

  “Then…” she sighed, “I shall disappear. It shan’t be hard to do.”

  “Oh, no, Hope. Don’t do anything drastic. You mustn’t make any rash decisions that you will later regret. Everything will turn out fine. You will sort things out between yourself and Lord Langford. I have faith that you will.”

  “What we shared…the tenuous bond that it was, is forever broken. I…I thought he was someone he wasn’t. My powers have failed me again. I went out blind when it came to Sir Hugo, and look where that got me. He was a blackguard. I thought that if I used my powers to see if Lord Langford was meant for me…that…that I wouldn’t be disappointed, and I was. I ruin everything, Faith.”

  “You know that isn’t true, Hope. You cannot continue jumping to conclusions. Clear and calm heads shall prevail, you will see. For being named Hope, you give up on hope quite a lot. So don’t this time around. Cling to hope and have faith.”

  Desi glided into the room looking like an angel fallen from heaven. Hope looked ruefully over at her. She shouldn’t have left the bedchamber door open after Faith had joined her.

  “Oh, Hope, you look beastly. Are you truly going to go to the ball in that frightful garment? It…it makes you look sallow, and it does nothing for your eyes or your hair, and that feather, oh, good God, it’s worse than the dress. Where did you dig that up? It doesn’t do a thing for you. On someone else it would be quite superb, but not on you. It’s like you have lost all of your wits!”

  “Good evening, Desi,” she said evenly, keeping her temper restrained. She had acted out in anger once already today. She couldn’t do it again.

  “Well, I suppose I should be happy that you look so wretched. I won’t have to compete with you tonight, shall I?”

  “I was never competing with you, Desi.”

  “Yes, well…” Desi looked uneasy, “I suppose you weren’t going to be a problem for me tonight, seeing as you are affianced to Lord Langford.” Desi looked pensive. That wasn’t like her at all.

  “Not anymore. He and I shall never marry each other,” she proclaimed, her heart racing, as the words passed her lips.

  Desi’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head. “Have you told Uncle Christian about that little piece of gossip? Because he is downstairs bragging to Lord Blessing that he shall have another one of his little ladies married off shortly. He is puffed up, proud as a peacock.”

  “No, I haven’t, Desi, and you shall keep your…”

  “Yes, I know. I shall keep my little bone box shut. I would make you buy my silence, but you don’t look as if you are in the mood tonight, and even I know when to leave well enough alone.”

  “Wise girl,” Faith said.

  “You may wear my new jade earrings, Desi,” Hope said softly.

  Faith gasped. “You…”

  “Hush, Faith. She can keep them for all I care.”

  “Truly?” Desi asked, her eyes lighting with excitement.

  “Aye. They should have been yours anyway. I…I don’t care for anything like that and where I am going, I won’t have need of it. They are over there on my dressing table.”

  Desi rushed over to the dressing table, and picked them up, and placed them in her ears. “I…I won’t tell a soul that you have thrown over Lord Langford. You can tell Uncle Christian tomorrow.” Desi was a great many things, but she always upheld her end of a promise. “I don’t envy you,” Desi continued, “Mama has her heart set on the match. She was a little against it at first…but now, after she’s heard rumors about how wealthy Lord Langford is…well, now, she approves, and despite his humble origins, he is an earl, and was promoted to that rank due to service to the Crown. That is something that must be respected. She shall scream her head off after you tell her that you are not going to marry him. I have to go and show Amy and Grace how lovely these earrings look in my ears.” With those parting words, Desi dashed out of the room.

  “So you are back to spoiling her, then?” Faith asked wearily, sinking weakly onto a chair.

  “I do not spoil her.”

  “Yes…you do. Or rather…you did, back when Papa was still around. Things went frigid between you after he died, and I suppose this is the heralding of a thaw. I don’t know if I welcome it.”

  She shrugged her shoulders, and reached for her cloak. It didn’t match her dress, if only she cared.

  As it was, she was beyond caring about anything now.

  Chapter Seventeen

  After leaving their cloaks, pelisses, and shawls in the dressing room, Hope and her sisters wandered out into the ballroom, with their mother grandly leading the way.

  Lady Grafton didn’t have a big enough ballroom for all of the guests that she had invited. Hope felt as if she was attending a rout-party instead of
a ball. The guests were cramped together and there was hardly any room out on the dance floor for the couples that wanted to take a turn.

  Her mother eyed everything with distaste.

  “Golly, have you ever seen so many people in such a small space before?” Amy asked. All six of the Fortescue maidens had decided to cluster together to keep from getting jostled about too much.

  “I don’t think it’s a small space, Amy,” Hope said calmly. “This house is magnificent. I think the problem lies herein. Lady Grafton has invited too many people for the size of the ballroom she has. All of the people are merely making it look small.”

  “Oh, I see,” Amy said, nodding her head. Her sisters viewed Hope as an expert on everything pertaining to London and the Season. The only one that ever tested this belief was Desi, and right now, by the strained look on Desi’s face, she didn’t look as if she was in the mood to dispute what Hope had just said.

  “I think it’s horrid. She shouldn’t have invited so many guests. She must be mad!” Desi exclaimed, turning her nose up into the air, the way she did when she was annoyed.

  “I think people have brought along too many of their friends,” Hope muttered. “Look over at Lady Grafton. She seems quite out of sorts. She is wringing her hands, and looks about to have an apoplectic fit. I suppose we shall have to make the best out of a bad situation, and pray that Mama doesn’t want to stay long.”

  “My first ball of my first Season in London, and it’s an utter and complete travesty,” Desi sighed. For one brief moment, Hope actually felt sorry for her.

  “To be fair to Lady Grafton, we didn’t even plan to come to London this early in the Season, and she came by to invite us personally a few days ago. That’s just not done. Usually the invitations are sent out two to three weeks in advance and the reply is imperative within a day or two. What she did for us…well, she was just being kind, and I expect that there are quite a few guests in attendance here that came at the last moment like we did. Country balls sometimes run a little differently. I know that some balls in the Country are arranged at the last minute, and so there isn’t much notice for the guests,” Hope explained.

  “Oh, indeed. Fanny didn’t send out her invitations for her Grand Christmas Ball two weeks in advance,” Faith murmured.

  “No, but Fanny is Fanny, and those that she invited were dear friends of Uncle Christian’s, and they wouldn’t have dared disappoint her. That and the fact that not much happens in the Country in way of balls, well, it wasn’t as if they would disappoint her and not show up,” Desi snorted. “The Country is so boring compared to London.”

  “Oh, and you are an expert, eh, Desi?” Faith asked, laughing lightly. Slowly, more room was made in the ballroom, as guests retreated to the Card Room. Most of the married men, and some of the unmarried ones who were not fond of dancing, would play games well into the night.

  “Well, now, that’s better. I feel like I can breathe,” Desi said, placing her hand beneath her bosom. “That was rather suffocating for a while there.”

  “I agree,” Hope said. She still hadn’t caught sight of Lord Langford, and she hoped she wouldn’t see him at all that night. Eventually, he would probably show his face, as Lord Evesham had been invited weeks ago, and Lord Langford had also received an invitation.

  “I haven’t seen Lord Langford yet, Hope,” Desi said. It was amazing how a little gift could sweeten Desi’s surly nature. At least Desi would cherish her gifts. She wouldn’t break or lose them like some of her friends did.

  “I haven’t either, and I hope it stays that way.” Butterflies fluttered in Hope’s stomach, and tingles ran over her skin. “Damnation,” she muttered. “Speak of the Devil. He has just arrived. I can feel it.” Her world felt as if it had been turned upside down. Her heart wanted her to seek him out, and her head told her to remain where she was.

  “Steady on there, Hope,” Faith said. “Remember what you resolved to do.”

  “I know. But it’s so hard. I can feel myself being drawn to him.”

  “Maybe you should just give in,” Desi said simply. “You can’t fight the fairy inside. Isn’t that what you have always said, Faith?”

  “No, you little imp, I didn’t say that. Honest, I didn’t, Hope.”

  Hope eyed her warily. Maybe at some point in time, Faith had encouraged Desi’s bad behavior. She would have to sort all of that out later on. Right now, she had to focus all of her energy on staying away from Lord Langford.

  The musicians started to play as the first dance was called. Hope didn’t want to dance with anyone. She wandered through the crowds of people, looking for a quiet spot to sit down.

  Frozen with dread, her eyes fell on the one man, she knew she might see. Her former betrothed. The man who had broken things off with her after he discovered that she didn’t have a penny to her name. Her stomach lurched, as she looked upon the pleasant visage of Sir Hugo Standish. The little bastard had his hair slicked down with far too much pomade. He still looked as she remembered him. Dashingly handsome. Although, he dressed more like a fop now. She shuddered, as his eyes searched the room and finally settled on her. Her skin crawled at the gleeful delight that filled his gaze.

  Desi and Faith were still following her. The other girls had wandered away from them. “Come on, Hope. Let us walk the other way. You don’t want to talk to that cretin.”

  Desi hadn’t uttered a word, but something closely resembling dislike lit her gaze. At long last, she broke her silence. “You should have turned him into toad, or maybe a bug, and then, you could have stepped on him.”

  “We can’t do that kind of magic, and you know that, Desi,” Hope said softly.

  “Yes, well, you could have made him croak for a month, or given him nervous flatulence to contend with for the rest of the year. You know a case of the farts that rears its ugly head at the most inconvenient times, say when he has an audience of his peers to witness it—and we could finish it off with a large explosion.”

  “Desi, you are awful,” Faith gasped.

  Hope laughed. “Actually, I think she might have something there. Clever girl.”

  “I could do it for you, Hope,” Desi offered, rubbing her hands together in anticipation, a look of pure glee on her face.

  “Rein it in, Desdemona,” Hope advised. “Keep that little fairy stifled.”

  Desi stuck her tongue out at her. “You are just afraid of having a little bit of fairy fun.”

  “No…I am afraid of us calling attention to ourselves.”

  “Hope is right. We mustn’t use any sort of magic in public.”

  “Look over there, chaps. There is the Honorable Miss Hope Fortescue. She is a barque of frailty, lads, so you might want to go over and ask her for a dance. You might get a little something afterward. She has a real talent for spreading her legs. She will make someone in the ton a damn fine mistress, someday. We shall one day be calling her the Whore of Mayfair, eh, lads?” he laughed loudly.

  Desi’s eyes were wide with anger, and her little hands were balled into tightly clenched fists. Faith gasped, and looked as if she might faint. They might need to fetch the smelling salts for her. Hope…Hope couldn’t think clearly. Her eyes were filled with tears, and she had to escape before she started to cry.

  She heard a man let out a terrible roar, and then saw Lord Langford. But no one else did, that is until his fist connected with Hugo’s face. Blood spurted out of Hugo’s nose. Lord Langford had knocked Hugo off his feet. Hugo’s foppish friends looked as if they might put up a fight in his defense. They changed their minds once they saw Lord Blessing, Lord Cary, Lord Knightwick, and her Uncle Christian standing behind Gilbert.

  Women screamed. Men started to cheer. Those that were in the Card Room rushed back into the ballroom, hoping for the brawl to continue. Some looked as if they were laying bets. The musicians had stopped playing mid-tune, and the dancers left the dance floor.

  It took a few minutes for Hugo to get back on his feet.

  “
So you are the Gill, our little harlot has taken up with,” Sir Hugo said, dabbing at his bloody nose.

  “Oh, lawks, he just called Gil a girl,” Hope muttered fearfully.

  “That’s not going to settle well with Lord Langford. I wonder how Sir Hugo feels about hitting the floor again,” Desi said. “Your Sir Hugo is a real cockalorum.”

  “I know, and mind your tongue, Desi. He is not my Sir Hugo anymore, and thank heavens for that. I escaped him,” Hope sighed.

  “Oh, wait, was that Gil…anyway,” Sir Hugo sniggered, “I heard that you are one of Wellington’s pets. I don’t think the likes of you should have been promoted out of the enlisted ranks. You don’t deserve the titles they gave you. I should be an earl…not you…you scum of the Earth. You and that loose little bit of muslin deserve each other.”

  Gilbert darted a look of concern her way. She prayed he wouldn’t call Hugo out. Hugo…well, Hugo was no match for Gilbert.

  “Gil can’t call him out,” she said, more to herself than anyone else. “Don’t do it, Gil.” But her warning went unheeded. She had known he wouldn’t hear her, only wishing instead that he would somehow feel her warning through the bond they shared.

  Lord Langford drew off one of his gloves, and threw it down at Hugo’s feet. He had challenged Hugo to a duel.

  Zounds.

  “Oh, no,” she whispered. “They can’t duel. He might kill Hugo, and if he kills Hugo...”

  “I can help. I can fix this,” Desi said. Before Hope could stop her, she saw Desi squint and point her finger at Hugo. No one else would be able to see the shimmer of light that enveloped Hugo.

  His mouth dropped open, and she could have sworn Hugo was drooling, then, he snapped his mouth shut and opened it again, to gabble to everyone who was hanging on his every word, “I am a lily-livered libertine,” he said, as if someone else was speaking for him. “I run from any fight. I haven’t an ounce of steel in me. I…also have the Great Pox, because I am the whore, not Miss Fortescue. Men can be whores just like women, you know,” he babbled, dragging in a deep breath, he continued, “Miss Fortescue is a saint, she is above reproach. I am the one that cannot keep myself away from the troll. I will sleep with anyone. From high class icognitas to low class cats. I love all the trollops…and that…that is why I have the French Disease. My silent flute has been played by many in London, and it has driven up many a petticoat lane. I am Sir Hugo Standish, and I am shockingly loose in the haft,” Hugo said loudly. “Thinking of meeting you, Lord Langford, on the field of battle, makes me want to mess my drawers. I truly am afraid of my own shadow. I…I…” Pain enveloped his features. A few seconds later, everyone heard Hugo begin to fart. The farts were loud, and had everyone in attendance laughing loudly. “Oh, no…oh, no…out of my way. Move!” Hugo ordered, doing a little dance, he tried to push past the guests, but he couldn’t move fast enough. “Oh, no! Never mind, it’s too late. The package has been delivered.” He soiled his drawers, to the horror and displeasure of all of the guests. As he was wearing white breeches, the foul evidence was on display for all to see. Guests exclaimed their horror, and started to hold their handkerchiefs up to their noses, as the odor was quite pungent. “You, blackguard. You…you street rat—you lowest of the lows,” Hugo exclaimed. “See what you have done to me. You made me shit myself.”