THE MAGIC TOUCH (Historical Romance)

by KEYSON, PATRICIA

  She turned towards the hallway, but there was still no sign of him. He wouldn’t let her down, would he? Perhaps he’d been taken ill, or had been summoned to his business after all. She waited impatiently for the interval, knowing she should put more effort into the proceedings, but now she was preoccupied and hardly heard the introduction to the next act. The programme twisted in her hands and fell to the floor. As she bent to retrieve it, she heard a melodious voice from the front of the room. Someone was singing and doing it in style. Raising her head, she craned her neck to see who it was. Her intake of breath was audible she was sure. But what a surprise to see and hear Beaumont. His rendition of ‘Fair Moon to Thee I Sing’ was splendid. Prickles ran up and down Hope’s bare arms as she listened. His voice had an overwhelming effect on her, so much so that even after the singing had stopped and the applause died down, she sat in her seat unable to move.

  “Hope, Hope, are you all right, darling?” It was Mama. “It’s time for the refreshments. We must circulate, come along. Wasn’t Beaumont impressive?”

  As if in a dream, Hope followed her mother and oversaw the food and drinks. The servants would feel awkward and shy eating in front of their employers. Hope gave herself a shake and smiled at Molly. “Take this plate and help yourself,” she encouraged. “I can recommend the salmon mousse, but remember to leave room for the cakes. They look completely delectable.” She was rewarded with a smile and a thank you from the young girl who proceeded to help herself, inhibitions seemingly forgotten.

  “My lady, it’s a wonderful evening.” Edna was by her side with a plate full of treats from the refreshment table. “May I get some food for you?”

  “That is most kind, Edna, but I will help myself when everyone else has a plateful. You are here to relax and enjoy yourself.”

  “It’s a perfect evening. I shall remember it always.” She drifted away with a dreamy look on her face.

  “And will you remember it always?” Hope didn’t need to turn around to know to whom the voice belonged.

  “I shall indeed,” she replied. “I had no idea you could sing as well.” She faced him and felt her cheeks grow warm.

  “As well as what?” Beaumont’s eyes twinkled as he gazed down at her.

  Hope was lost for words. At last she managed, “As well as your other talents such as projecting slides and narrating your shows.” Changing the subject would be a helpful option she surmised. “I think the concert is a success so far. Everyone seems to have entered into it with zeal.”

  “And are you to entertain us a little later on?” Beaumont enquired. He took a plate from the diminishing pile and helped himself to items from the table.

  “No, I shall not, but there is a full programme. Will you stay until the end?” Hope held her breath, wishing with all her might that he would say yes.

  “Yes. And there is someone I should like you to meet. A friend of mine. I asked Constance if I could invite him as I needed some moral support before my performance.” He busied himself with the food, forking some of the sliced roasted meats into his mouth.

  “I will try to make time for the introduction, but you must appreciate the evening is very full.” Hope started when she felt Beaumont’s hand pressed firmly against her back. “Stop it. We are in a public place,” she hissed.

  “I am simply trying to propel you over to my friend. There he is, surrounded by females as usual.”

  Hope’s good humour waned. She wasn’t the sort of woman who was prepared to be pushed around.

  “He is a publisher,” Beaumont said.

  Her curiosity was aroused. “What sort of works does he publish?”

  “Meet him and ask him yourself.”

  Hope and Beaumont spent the rest of the interval with his friend discussing books and publishing. When the bell rang for the second half, Hope was promised that any manuscript she sent in would be given top priority and read immediately.

  At the end of the performance Hope had barely stood up before Beaumont joined her. “Would you care to have a look at the art exhibition with me?” he asked. “From the comments I have heard there are some very gifted members of staff here.”

  “I shall make sure everyone is happy first, but I should like to see the art work.”

  When Hope was satisfied she had carried out her duties, they studied the pictures which ranged from pencil drawings to her mother’s huge canvas with great coloured swirls depicting roses in their various stages from delicate tight buds to full-blown blooms.

  “Roses! The symbol of love.” Beaumont studied the painting. “Is that how you imagine love, Hope?”

  Hope put her head to one side and thought. Love? If she was in love with Beaumont then it was a wonderful swirling feeling, full of colour and light, exactly like the painting. “I think it might be. What do you think?”

  “I have never been in love...” He took Hope’s hands in his.

  She tried to steady them and hide her disappointment.

  “…until now,” he added.

  “Hope, Hope, have you seen your mama?” Constance bore down on them.

  They dropped hands as though burnt. “No, Aunt, I have not. Is there a problem?”

  “I’ve had an idea I wish to discuss. We have the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee to look forward to and I think I may hold an event of some sort in aid of the Female Aid Society.”

  Beaumont became animated. “That’s a marvellous idea, Constance. And you have plenty of time to plan it. I would be happy to help in any way I can. Possibly a magic lantern show with slides of the royal family. I shall see if I can rent some nearer the time.”

  “Eustace would be proud of us all.” With that she turned and headed back the way she’d come.

  “She is a remarkable woman. But all the women in your family are remarkable as well as beautiful.”

  “Dear Mama is beautiful, but I fear I haven’t inherited her looks at all. Isabella is exquisite. I wish I looked more like her.” Hope pulled a face and looked at the floor. Why did she have to comment at all? Wasn’t she satisfied with being thought of as remarkable? By anyone else certainly, but it was not enough to be regarded thus by Beaumont.

  He took her hand and held it tightly. “Isabella is pretty, but her looks are skin-deep and will fade with the years. Your beauty shines from within and will be ever-present.” He paused briefly. “Hope I must confess that I knew you were Richard from our very first encounter at the fair. Even from a distance and in the disguise of a man there was never any doubt in my mind that I was in your presence. Your scent, your delicate skin and your eyes, the most beautiful in the whole world, left me in no doubt.”

  As far as Hope was concerned at that moment they were the only two people in the universe. Their eyes met and understanding radiated between them. Yes, love was definitely a swirling feeling, full of colour and light. There was no way she could stop her heart pounding or her lips smiling.

  In order to relive their time together, Hope wrote down her thoughts when she reached her room.

  I believe Beaumont loves me. He said as much. Did he or did I imagine it? What will happen next? What a marvellous evening. Everyone was so happy. Even Beaumont isn’t as serious as one might think. He told me that he often puts one of the slides in the lantern the wrong way up so that the audience participate by booing and hissing.

  What does my future hold?

  I can’t wait for tomorrow as Beaumont and I are going to take the works of art from below stairs and hang them at his house in the rooms we are using for the library and school. Then I am to work on some stories for the school. Beaumont’s idea is that I copy the pictures from a series of slides onto paper and write captions.

  In spite of Beaumont’s kind words regarding my beauty I need to sleep now so that tomorrow I don’t look like a rumpled bedsheet.

  * * *

  With the aid of a couple of servants, the paintings and drawings were carefully wrapped and taken in the brougham to Beaumont’s house. Prudence insisted on being in
volved in the process of hanging them thus depriving Hope of any time alone with him. The three of them worked well together and finally they were satisfied with the look of the rooms.

  “We must start our lessons soon, Hope. If you are staying in London, Prudence, art lessons would be much appreciated I am sure.”

  “It is something I would enjoy, but I will be leaving to join Hope’s father in the next few days.”

  Now Hope anticipated some time with Beaumont, but it was not to be.

  “I have to speak to Beaumont,” said Mama. “Find a book and read, Hope. I know it’s what you enjoy most.”

  It used to be. Now she wanted to spend her time with Beaumont. Whatever could they have to discuss that did not include her? Ridiculously, she felt slighted.

  “Very well, Mama. Take as long as you like.” She wouldn’t let her feelings be known. Her hands trailed along the bookshelves until she came upon a travel book. Reluctantly, she found herself drawn into it from the first page. By the time Mama and Beaumont returned to the room, she was so engrossed, she wasn’t aware of them until she heard Beaumont’s voice.

  “And when will you and your husband return? I would very much like to meet Lord Richmond. As you know there is something of great importance I may wish to ask him.” Beaumont turned and winked at Hope.

  Was he teasing? Was he suggesting he would be asking for her hand in marriage? It wasn’t possible. How unkind he was to tease her so.

  “I think I will make my way back to Constance’s house and supervise the packing of my trunks. I know you wish to talk to my daughter in private.”

  “Yes, we have much to discuss about the running of the school and the library. Hope has a thousand and one ideas. I have only one.”

  It had been difficult to bid Mama farewell; having her close had meant so much to Hope. They’d enjoyed wonderful outings together and many things had been accomplished. Mama made everything seem very easy. You made up your mind what you wanted and then just achieved it. It sounded very simple. If only she could do that and make Beaumont hers. She consoled herself there was a lot to look forward to as the library was scheduled to be opened soon and, after more preparation, the school would take its first pupils. It was a very exciting time. Also Mama and Papa would be home again in a short while.

  * * *

  “Hope, you’re looking tired,” said Aunt Constance one afternoon as they were having tea. “You haven’t taken on too much, I trust.”

  “No, Aunt, I’m enjoying it. I don’t seem to sleep well, though.” She would not divulge the reason for that to Constance. “I expect I’ve so many ideas spinning around my head. I should do as Mama does and not worry about things.”

  “I think it’s something which comes with age,” replied her aunt. “Things have a way of working out for the best even if we don’t always see it at the time.”

  “Aunt, thank you for having me to stay with you. I am to be your guest for longer than expected.”

  “Hope, you are not a guest. You are family. And may I say that I have come to regard you as a friend. The house will seem very empty when you do leave.”

  “You are the kindest, most perfect aunt anyone could have.” Hope rushed to hug Constance who nearly spilt her tea.

  “You are very impetuous, child. I don’t want my gown ruined.” She put down her cup and brushed at her dress. “Do you like it?” she asked, sounding shy.

  Hope stared. How could she not have noticed? “You are out of mourning, Aunt. I feel so pleased for you. And you look magnificent in that colour.”

  “Eustace liked this dress. And he always said blue suited me. I have you to thank. You and Prudence.”

  “Will you visit Beaumont’s house and see the library?” Hope wanted to involve her aunt. “There are lots of Uncle’s books there. In fact if it hadn’t been for you and him there wouldn’t have been a library.” She watched with satisfaction as Aunt Constance’s cheeks grew pink and a smile lit her face.

  Constance did visit the library and she even borrowed a few books, just to set an example, she explained. The days passed and Hope found herself enjoying the challenges of both the library and now the school. Beaumont and she took turns with lessons and she hardly exchanged a few words with him which were not related to work. He seemed pre-occupied and restless still, but that didn’t impinge on his teaching ability.

  Then one day he appeared to have a lightness to his step and he laughed and joked with pupils. Hope longed to know what had brought about the change, but felt reticent about asking him. She had noticed an envelope on his desk in a room which was out of bounds to anyone but Beaumont and herself. During a luncheon break, she was allowed into the room and curiosity got the better of her as she peeped at the envelope. It looked extraordinarily similar to her papa’s neat lettering. But that would be absurd! Why would Papa be writing to Beaumont? They didn’t know each other. It was strange, but she kept the knowledge to herself.

  When she arrived home, there was a letter for her also. It was from her mama and papa to say they were returning to England. She checked the date and found they would arrive in London by the end of the week.

  Hope was overjoyed. Then she realised she would have to return home with them. What would happen to the library and school she had formed with Beaumont? And what about Beaumont? She would have to leave him. Would Mama let that happen knowing how much he meant to her? The good news had now turned very sour.

  * * *

  Edna arrived at Beaumont’s house and interrupted a lesson Hope was giving. The maid opened the door to the schoolroom and caught her breath. “They’re here,” she announced.

  Hope smiled. Mama and Papa were at her aunt’s house. “Thank you, Edna. I’ll leave as soon as possible.” She turned to her class and explained her situation. Then, after setting them some work to do for the following lesson, she collected her bicycle and rode home.

  Sitting between her mother and father, Hope felt extremely happy. Papa held her tightly and kept looking at her. “I’ve missed you very much, Hope. It was a most exciting trip.”

  “It’s lovely to have you back,” replied Hope. “When will we return to our house?”

  “Oh, we’re not going back for a few days,” smiled Mama. “Now I must supervise the unpacking of our clothes. I know your papa will want to visit many places during our short stay in London.”

  “You have been up to all sorts of things, I hear,” said Papa. “Your mama has told me of your escapades. You are so much like her.”

  “What else did she tell you?” Hope was anxious to know if her father knew of her attachment to Beaumont.

  “Oh, this and that.” Was it Hope’s imagination, or was her father being evasive? “Will you stay and talk with me, Hope? I see you’ve had your hair guillotined. I think it suits you. Tell me why you decided to do that, then I need to change my clothes as I think Constance is expecting a visitor she wishes me to meet.”

  “Oh? Who can that be?” Hope was curious. She had heard nothing of a visitor. Perhaps it was an old acquaintance of Eustace.

  “Beaumont!” Hope couldn’t stop her cry of surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  “Dear Constance invited me to meet your father,” replied Beaumont. “It’s not an inconvenience to you, I trust.”

  “Why don’t you two take a walk in the garden? I have a few things to see to,” said her father, shaking hands with Beaumont.

  Hope didn’t mind walking with Beaumont, but she could detect secrecy and yearned to know what was happening.

  No sooner had they reached the holly tree than Beaumont took her elbow and turned her to face him. “Hope, you must know I care for you deeply. Ever since I first met you I have loved you with a passion. Each time I see you I never want to let you go. Will you be mine for ever?” His eyes never left her as he descended to the ground on one knee. “Hope Richmond, will you do Mr Beaumont the very great honour of becoming his wife?”

  Hope’s heart nearly burst out of her dress. “Mr Bea
umont is asking me to marry him?”

  “Indeed he is,” replied the gentleman himself. “And what is your answer?”

  “Mr Beaumont, I should feel my life to be complete if I could spend it with you, but only if I may call you Beaumont as that is who I fell in love with.”

  Beaumont stood up and crushed Hope to him. “My darling,” he whispered, “I love you with all my heart and soul. At last I feel able to propose marriage to you as I now consider myself to be a worthy man. You have made me understand many things for which I am grateful.”

  Hope nestled in Beaumont’s arms feeling quite at home there. Then suddenly she pulled away from him. “What does Father say? I don’t pretend to know the etiquette, but I understand you should have asked his permission before proposing marriage to me.”

  Beaumont hugged her tightly. “Hope, I’m afraid your mama and I were a little devious. You remember you were sulking when she came to hang the pictures at my house?”

  “I was not sulking...” protested Hope against his coat.

  “Shush, that’s not important. What is important is that your mama conveyed a letter from me to your father asking him for your hand and he replied that he would be delighted if I would take you off his hands.”

  “He said that?”

  “Well, no, not exactly. No, he didn’t. Hope you must develop a sense of humour if we are to get on.”

  They continued their playful exchanges in between snatching kisses and whispering endearments until the moon rose and stars sparkled in the sky.

  “The air is cooling,” murmured Beaumont. “We must go inside. I would hate you to catch a chill.” As they walked along the garden path, he put his arm lightly around her shoulders. “What will you find to do after we are married? I hope you won’t find married life too dull.”

  Hope smiled to herself. How could she ever find life with Beaumont dull? “I shall have a household to supervise and there will be the library and school to attend to. I trust I shall not have to give up those pursuits. And I should like to continue my writing.”