Forsaking Hope

by Beverley Oakley

  “Faith! Get out of this room. And Hope, Lord Westfall is downstairs waiting for you, and do you look like you’re ready for him? He’s early but that’s no excuse. Good Lord! You’ll pay for this, believe me! Now, get dressed while I ply him with drink, and make sure this is the last time you ever disappoint me or a gentleman caller again.”

  Chapter 12

  “Darling, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Felix’s mother intruded into his orbit in a waft of lavender-scented water. The Ball at which his engagement would be announced later that night was the last place he wanted to be. It seemed surreal to be here after all that had happened since Hope had reentered his life two days before.

  “Is it the lovely music that brings back memories, or the sight of your lovely betrothed?” she went on. Felix hadn’t seen his mother this happy in years.

  Strangely, it was his mother who echoed his thought, but with respect to the woman he was to marry. “I haven’t seen Annabelle look this happy in years.” Lady Durham tapped him playfully on the chest with her fan. “You certainly took your time about it, my boy. Annabelle’s been expecting you to offer for her since she was presented, and that’s more than two years ago.” She gave him an incisive look. “For a while, I thought you must have lost your heart to someone else.”

  Obviously noticing the grim set of Felix’s mouth, she added, “Please look happy about this, Felix. You know that I’d never force any marriage upon you if you were not fully committed, but nor have you been happy for a long time. You’ve known Annabelle her whole life and she’d do anything for you. I also happen to believe she will be good for you.”

  Felix nodded, eyeing the golden-haired girl as she was led off the dance floor by another escort. “I’m sure she will.”

  “As long as your heart is in this marriage, Felix.” Lady Durham sounded concerned. She sent another glance in Annabelle’s direction. “As long as you are not in love with someone else, Felix, for that would not be fair.”

  Felix shook his head, turning suddenly, his voice full of the scorn he felt. “No need to fear on that score, Mother.”

  Lady Durham put her hand on his coat sleeve as he turned to leave. “You will be kind to her, won’t you? You know she’s only ever loved you.”

  “Lord, Mother, you speak as if you fear I was Bluebeard himself.” Despite himself, his mouth quirked. “I like to pride myself on being a cut above the usual reprobate.”

  “Yes, and I’ve always been proud of you for being a young man true to the highest ideals.”

  She hesitated, and he raised his eyes enquiringly. “Why do I think that was not all you were going to say?”

  Lady Durham’s troubled frown was swept away by her expansive greeting of an approaching couple, although the gentleman peeled away as he was detained by a knot of chattering women. “Why, here comes Miss Charlotte Merriweather. My dear Charlotte, you are blooming! Most brides would look considerably more nervous than you at the prospect of your marriage tomorrow.”

  “I have nothing to be nervous about,” said the young woman with a quick smile at Felix, whom she’d come to know better during the past year since she’d graduated from the schoolroom. “I could think of no greater happiness than being Lord Hartley’s wife.”

  Felix felt a tremor of emotion quite literally shake him to his foundations at the sight of the lovely, smiling, golden-haired creature, so different from her sister but clearly so at ease in her world. And so soon to marry a peer of the realm. There really could be no greater contrast between Hope and Charlotte. A spasm of rage and despair nearly choked him, though he managed with appropriate cordiality, “I don’t think I’ve seen you in six months, Miss Charlotte.” He kissed the back of her hand. “My mother is right. You have bloomed.”

  “I have been fortunate, Mr Durham.” She inclined her head with a smile at Lady Durham who now made her excuses to leave them. Lowering her voice when the older woman had gone, she added, “Unlike my sister.”

  “What do you know of your sister?” He regretted speaking so sharply though she did not appear to notice.

  “I wish I did know something, Mr Durham.”

  “Please. Call me Felix as you did when you were a child. We’ve been neighbours our whole lives, and you are, after all, about to marry a friend of mine. We shall see each other often, no doubt.” The thought brought a pang so acute he had to close his eyes briefly. Around him, the sound of chattering and the music of the orchestra that had just tuned up for a polka seemed overwhelming.

  “Are you all right, Felix?” she asked anxiously.

  “Heart pain. It happens. Please go on. What do you mean, you wish you knew something?” He tried not to let suspicion temper his words.

  Charlotte frowned. “You recall the last time we met, when I chanced upon you in the village and we had only a moment to speak. I said I’d had a letter from Hope from her position in Germany, and that I’d thought the wording was odd and wondered if she was being kept against her will.”

  “How could I forget?” Felix had always seen himself as her knight in shining armour and had his studies and his mother not prevented him, would have searched for her himself.

  Bitterness swept over him. But, he reminded himself, he had Annabelle now, and though she did nothing to set his pulses racing, he’d always liked her well enough. For a short while, after the shock of his mother’s pronouncement that Hope appeared set to marry her employer’s nephew in Prussia, he’d finally reconciled himself to the idea of marrying Annabelle. The two families had, after all, long been pushing for a union.

  And that’s what he’d do. Please them all. Hope Merriweather did not want him. She’d been playing with him from the start.

  Charlotte’s voice intruded, returning him to the noisy, heated throng with its brittle gaiety that sat so ill with his current mood. “Well, a strange thing happened last week, Felix, and I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

  She looked troubled as he nodded for her to go on.

  “I was looking through Mama’s writing desk, which is usually kept locked, when I came upon a letter.” She glanced quickly behind her as if afraid of being overheard.

  Felix gave her a smile that was more indulgent than encouraging. Young ladies, he’d discovered, liked making secretive discoveries. “I hope you weren’t prying where you ought not.”

  “Not intentionally, of course.” Miss Charlotte looked concerned rather than embarrassed or chastened. She frowned even harder as she studied the ivory carving of her fan. “The letter was from Hope, and when I saw the postmark, I realised it had been sent from London two weeks after she was supposed to have boarded the packet to the Continent.”

  “Why is that so strange?” Felix asked. “She probably gave it to someone to post who delayed doing so.”

  Charlotte slid her eyes across the room to where her mama was in conversation with Lady Hunt. “I assumed the same but, you see, the letter was half out of the envelope, and when I pushed it back in I saw that she’d addressed it to Papa, not knowing that he’d died suddenly just after she’d left here.”

  “You read it?”

  “Well, it was addressed to Papa, and he’s dead, but Mama had obviously opened it, and I wondered if it would cast some light on where Hope might have gone,” Charlotte said, a trifle defensively. She looked at him imploringly. “Oh, Felix, I’ve been tormented by what she wrote but I can’t speak of it to Mama.”

  A chill of foreboding settled upon Felix. “Why not?”

  “In the letter, Hope tells Papa she’s in a terrible situation, and she begs him to go to London. She says she’ll wait for him at a particular address if he will only meet her there. She literally begs him. And there are what look like teardrops, and her handwriting is all shaky. I’ve never seen her write like that. She says in the letter she’ll promise to live quietly at home for the rest of her life and not to be the wild girl who Mama so deplores if he’ll only forgive her and let her come home. But, of course, Papa died, only Mama said no
thing at all about this letter, even though she must have read it before she told everyone about Hope writing to say she’d arrived safely in Leipzig.”

  Felix stared. He did not interrupt. He didn’t, in fact, know what to say. When Charlotte continued to look at him, perplexed, he said quietly, “Go on.”

  “Well, Mama kept pretending that Hope had gone to Germany. Why, she was the one who passed on to me the letter that Lady Hunt said came from Hope in Germany, which is when I spoke to you.”

  Felix chewed his lip, his thoughts running all over the place. “Lady Hunt?” he muttered. “Why would she receive a letter and pass it on? What interest does Lady Hunt have in all this?”

  “Surely you knew it was Lady Hunt who organised for Hope to go away?”

  He shook his head.

  Charlotte sighed. “Poor Mama was at the end of her tether with Hope. She said she was a hoyden and unmanageable, and I remember hearing Mama and Papa arguing about what to do with her. This was a little over two years ago. Then, Lady Hunt told Mama that she had the perfect position for Hope, as a governess to two children in Germany. Friends of Lady Hunt, in fact. So Mama told Hope that’s where she was sending her, as they didn’t have the money to launch Hope, and she might as well be a governess in Germany as here, for her prospects would be better, considering these friends of Lady Hunt were such an important family in their country.”

  “Go on,” Felix prompted. “I presume Hope didn’t want to go.”

  “She certainly didn’t. In fact, she refused, and there was the most terrific fight between Hope and Mama and Papa. Then I overheard Mama telling Papa that it was beyond anything, and the most marvellous opportunity, that Lady Hunt should position Hope so well and that she’d offered to sponsor me for my coming-out when the time came.” Hope worried at her lower lip, her expression troubled. “I was too young to realise that the two went hand in hand: that Hope’s marvellous opportunity relied on her being sent away, and that I, by contrast, was to be given a new wardrobe and invitations to most of London when I was of age to make my debut.”

  The churning in Felix’s breast increased. “I’d say so,” he muttered. “But more to the point, what happened regarding Hope’s request for aid?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “Mama has been silent on the topic, and, of course, I didn’t even know Hope requested help until I saw the letter last week.” She fanned herself rapidly as if to channel her nervous energy into some occupation, for her distress was obviously increasing through the telling of her story. “I’ve not known where to turn. When I asked Mama if she’d had news of Hope, she said Hope was doing marvellously in Germany and was likely to soon receive a very fine marriage offer. This was only last week!”

  “So nothing was ever said by either of you about Hope’s letter?” A sudden thought occurred to Felix as he took in the lovely young woman before him, her looks so like her mother who’d been an acclaimed beauty in her day. “Has your mother tended to favour you over your sister?”

  “I never thought of it when I was younger. Hope was always so fiery, and Mama was always slapping her, while I was always told I was the good girl, which made me rather smug.” She looked rueful. “But I do remember one day when I was alone with Papa in the drawing room after Mama had gone to lock Hope up in her bedroom again, that I asked why Hope and Mama were always fighting. I’ll never forget his answer. He looked at me sadly and said, more to himself, really, that it was hard for a beautiful woman to see the child she rears grow more beautiful as she herself ages, but intolerable for her to accept that her stepdaughter is garnering more interest than she.”

  “Good Lord, I didn’t know your mother wasn’t Hope’s natural mother.”

  “Hope’s mama died when she was born, and Papa married Mama when I was a year old. Hope’s always called her Mama, and although I know she must have been told that Mama wasn’t her real mother, I can’t ever remember any mention in the house of Hope’s real mama. I suppose that’s because Mama tends to be a little jealous.”

  Felix nodded. “So your mama and Hope had their differences.”

  “I’d never have said it was something I noticed, especially, but after I came upon Hope’s letter, I began to remember so many things that Hope had said were unfair when we were younger, though she seemed to have become resigned to it, later. Papa used to defend Hope when Mama flew into one of her furies and that used to make Mama even more furious.” Charlotte sighed. “Since reading that letter I’ve been so worried about Hope. I just wish I knew where she was and that I could be assured she was all right. And as happy as I am.” Her face brightened as Lord Hartley joined them, flanked by Lady Hunt and Annabelle.

  Felix nodded at the easy-natured fellow whom he’d known since childhood. He was a decent chap, and he had no qualms he would treat Charlotte well. He also bore all the signs of a man in love which was good to see.

  So did Annabelle, which gave him dreadful qualms of anxiety, for his mind was churning with the ramifications of what Charlotte had just told him. Gazing at Annabelle’s luminous face framed by golden hair, he knew he’d have to work hard to make himself love the girl within, though her temper was equable and she’d always appeared to him pleasant enough.

  She’d had no shortage of admirers, either, and seemed the kind of social butterfly who knew just what to say. Annabelle had set her sights on him from early on; he knew that.

  And the previous afternoon, furious after his midnight encounter with Hope, he’d attended Lady Hunt’s afternoon garden party, as arranged, and surprising no one more so than himself, agreed with Annabelle’s father, Sir Reginald, when the fellow had said that the time really had come to put the girl out of her misery, and that Felix should get over his foolish objections to becoming leg-shackled and marry the girl. For the next half an hour, he’d had to put up with Annabelle’s gushing as to how he’d made her the happiest bride-to-be in all England, and even before she’d stopped her prattling, he’d felt like the most trapped man in all England.

  Still, he knew what was required of him, so when she clasped his forearm fondly, now, he returned the look as best he could before saying, as Mrs Merriweather joined their circle, “What a joyful occasion this is for everyone. My condolences, Mrs Merriweather, that your husband will not be around to witness Miss Charlotte’s happy day, but I wonder if Miss Hope will attend the wedding.”

  Mrs Merriweather, a handsome woman of middle age, had been all amiable smiles. Now she looked momentarily discomposed before she glanced at Lady Hunt, who said smoothly, “Alas, Hope is unable to make the long journey from her situation in Leipzig. However, the news you clearly haven’t heard is that she, too, is in receipt of an offer that will make her just as happy as her sister.”

  “Mama, you never told me!” gasped Charlotte, while Felix went suddenly cold.

  Mrs Merriweather nodded. “I’d been meaning to, my dear, but the last few days have been all about you and your wonderful plans.”

  “Mama, she’s my sister! Of course I’d want to know.” Charlotte looked distressed, and Felix asked, “Who is the gentleman in question?”

  Mrs Merriweather, at whom he’d directed his query, glanced at Lady Hunt who said, “The nephew of the family to whom she went as governess two years ago.” Smiling at her companion, she added, “I told Margaret it was a wonderful opportunity for Hope, and so it has proven to be.”

  Felix glanced at Charlotte, who looked nonplussed but said nothing, and then Lord Hartley turned the subject by inviting her onto the dance floor, and the party broke up.

  Felix felt it was appropriate to invite his betrothed onto the dance floor also, as he needed the exertion of some energetic waltzing if only to give his mind free rein. Making small talk with Annabelle would be excruciating, but fortunately the fast pace of this waltz would preclude that.

  He needed to sort through his head all the conflicting information he’d learnt in such a short time. Not that he’d learnt much. He’d only been presented with unexplained anomali
es.

  Miss Charlotte had had only questions that he could not answer and which, indirectly, he’d asked Mrs Merriweather, who’d, in turn, directed them to Lady Hunt.

  Felix had a dozen more questions though clearly he was going to get only lies if he asked directly.

  He wondered what Annabelle knew of the clandestine affair between Hope and her brother. And how long had it been going on? Had Hope eloped with Wilfred before she was due to meet Felix at the church and then discovered she’d not chosen the better man, hence her letter begging for rescue and forgiveness?

  “My, Felix, but you’re a superb dancer,” Annabelle told him, laughing at the pleasurable exertion as he led her off the dance floor a few minutes later. Her face was flushed and her eyes sparkled as she squeezed his arm. “I know you must be bored hearing it, but you truly have made me the happiest girl in all the land.”

  He had to go carefully. It would not do to burst her excited bubble. Annabelle, for all her generally equable nature, could sulk and rage, he knew from having known her since she was in the cradle. Not that they’d had very much to do with one another until she was a young woman assessing the local talent in the district before being prepared for her London debut. He wondered why she hadn’t made more of her opportunities for snaring any number of the eligible and far more illustrious catches she could have made.

  Felix forced a smile as he made an expansive gesture with one arm. The other was being tightly clung to by Annabelle.

  “And you are a butterfly amidst the throng. Young and beautiful. Why choose me?”

  She looked coy. “Why, you chose me, Felix.”

  “But you could have made any number of wonderful matches during the last two years.” He plucked two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed her one. “I often wondered why you didn’t marry in your first season out. Or your second.”

  Annabelle took a sip, staring at him over the rim. “I was waiting for you,” she said softly.