Forsaking Hope

by Beverley Oakley

  “I’ve killed him.” She didn’t look up, but kept her gaze on the figure whose right eye was smashed in. “I’ve killed him,” she said again, even more softly, as if she couldn’t believe what she’d done.

  Nor could Felix. He didn’t think he’d seen a sight so gruesome and his stomach clenched, but overriding his revulsion was his terrible fear for the woman kneeling by Hunt’s side.

  “What did he do to you?” Gently he put an arm about her.

  The distant strains of the orchestra could be heard from the makeshift ballroom while the night caller declared it to be four in the morning. All the sounds indicated it was an ordinary night but Felix knew nothing would ever be ordinary again.

  “He tried to force himself on me. I know I should have submitted, but I just couldn’t do it again.” Her voice cracked. “I couldn’t give him the very last of me…of my dignity.”

  She turned, her eyes luminous in the dark but she didn’t seem to register Felix’s identity. He was simply the man who’d stumbled upon her crime.

  “Wilfred is dead, and I’ll hang. It was always going to end in tragedy.” She sounded resigned, but then her eyes widened as if at last she realised to whom she was speaking, and she reached out a hand, her voice urgent. “Felix, please, don’t let them release my name until Charlotte is married! She needn’t know the truth of what I’ve become. It needn’t destroy her happiness. Don’t let my notoriety be known before Charlotte is Lady Hartley.” She withdrew her hands to cover her eyes, adding brokenly, “Otherwise everything will have been for nothing.”

  Felix couldn’t help himself. He’d wanted to rescue Hope his whole life and now he finally had the chance. He took her in his arms. She didn’t resist but nor did she cleave to him. It seemed her fear for her sister’s happiness was more important than her own future; more important than anything else.

  He kissed the top of her head. “Is that how Wilfred blackmailed you? By threatening to reveal the truth of your…profession…and thus shame and disgrace your sister, putting her marriage in peril?”

  “He was blackmailing me over what he turned me into.” Hope raised her stricken face to his, then looked down at herself, her expression one of contempt as she contoured her ruby-clad gown with both hands. “I am anyone’s who can pay for me. Would you like me, Felix?” Her voice shook as she uttered the words that seemed to brand her as so much worse than she could ever be. “Before they take me away, I’ll give you a good price because I’ve always liked you. Truly, I have. And I know you once liked me. The night of the Hunt Ball. I wanted you to kiss me then. I’d never been kissed before, and I wanted you to be the first.” She ran the back of her hand across her face. “But, of course! That’s why you’re here. You were looking for me, weren’t you? You wanted to make me another offer?” She gave a bitter laugh. “A counter offer to Lord Westfall’s. Congratulations on your impending marriage, Felix. I’m sorry I just killed your future brother-in-law. I never meant to cause trouble. But please, try and keep my real identity secret, at least for as long as it takes for Charlotte to be married. That’s all that matters.”

  “Hush!” He restrained her hands in his to stop their agitated plucking at her skirts then pulled her against his chest. “No one knows who you are, Hope,” he soothed, “and no one will know you’re associated with Charlotte. Ever. I’ll make sure of it.”

  She sagged against him and began to weep. “I’m sorry, Felix. I must be filth in your eyes.”

  He shook his head and held her tighter, kissing the top of her dark glossy hair once more and revelling in her need for him. It fulfilled his own desire to be more to her than he ever felt he could be. “Never,” he whispered.

  Gently, he put her away from him and turned at the sound of a voice calling him from further down the corridor.

  “I say, Felix! Where are you? Westy’s on the warpath, so if you’re up to something I give you fair warning. Good Lord!” Finding the door difficult to open, Millament had given it a good shove and now stood upon the threshold, staring at the grisly scene.

  “Close it!” Felix barked, and open-mouthed, Millament obeyed.

  Hope began to speak but Felix cut her off, rising, and taking her hand to draw Hope to her feet. “I found Hunt in the process of ravishing Miss Merriment, and I killed him,” he told Millament matter-of-factly. “When he rushed at me with the fire iron, I seized the poker to defend myself.”

  “You killed him?” Millament’s eyes bulged. “You killed Hunt…your future brother-in-law…for ravishing a woman who’s paid by dozens of men to do exactly what Hunt was no doubt going to pay her for? And you killed him?”

  “I was defending the woman I’m going to marry.”

  “Christ, Felix, have you taken leave of your senses? You’re going to marry Miss Annabelle Hunt!” Millament looked bilious as he glanced at the man lying on the floor then added, “The woman whose brother you just killed defending a prostitute, in case I don’t have to remind you again!”

  Felix fixed the young man with a steely stare. “Just between you and me, my friend, I shall offer you the truth before I concoct the story the court needs to hear.” He reached out one arm to draw Millament aside. “The truth is, I killed the man who kidnapped the woman I’d always intended marrying; the man who stole her virtue when he raped her, who then sold her to a brothel, and, because he was drunk on the power he had over her, proceeded to blackmail her so that not one shred of her dignity remained.” Felix took Hope’s wrist, but she resisted when he tried to put his arm about her.

  “You can’t do this, Felix,” she whispered. “You can’t destroy your life because of me. Mine is already worth nothing. Don’t sacrifice yours for nothing.”

  “For nothing?” He’d never felt more convinced of the rightness of his actions.

  “It’s too big a gamble,” she said urgently. “You may think you’re being noble now, but you won’t when your life is hanging in the balance. Please, Felix”

  They heard more footsteps. Felix dipped his head to Hope’s ear. “Don’t refute what I say. I have a chance of being exonerated if I claim responsibility. You don’t!”

  “You can’t, Felix!”

  “Why did you not contact me when Wilfred held you against your will? Or when he came back to blackmail you? Why? Was it because you thought my sense of propriety would be offended? That I’d consider your actions so dishonourable? Well, I am that man of honour you believed me to be, and I will not see a travesty of justice condemn you to death.” He turned to Millament, his heart racing, never more desirous of his friend’s acquiescence. “Promise that you’ll agree with everything I say! And promise me that you’ll ensure that Hope is safe. She must leave this house now. I don’t want there to be any association made between her and Hunt. Not ever, and certainly not until long after her sister weds Lord Hartley on Saturday.”

  “Hope’s sister is to wed Lord Hartley?” Millament swayed with astonishment.

  “Hope Merriweather left England for Germany to be a governess. At least, that’s what everyone thought. However, before she even made it onto the train she was kidnapped by this man…” Felix indicated Wilfred with a scornful nod, “and sold to Madame Chambon. That is the truth. We will, however, adhere to the fiction that Hope has, in fact, spent the last two years in Leipzig, and that she was, only this afternoon, greeted off the boat by Hunt who took her here, to this house, against her will, where I found her and defended her honour. In no way must her good name be compromised.”

  “Impossible!” Millament shook his head, his horror having turned to measured concern. “Felix, I want to help you, but it’s impossible. Why, half the men in this room have slept with the woman you claim is as pure as the driven snow. Beg pardon, Miss Merriweather, but we’re speaking facts.”

  “It can be done,” Felix insisted. He would not be dissuaded now. He pushed Hope towards his friend. “Take her away. Quickly! I’ll deal with this. Our first task is to keep her name out of the newspapers until her sister is
married tomorrow. No mention of her identity, and remember, I have spoken only to you about that because I trust you, and you are the only one who can help us now. I’ll worry about the rest later.”

  Chapter 15

  18 months later

  “Goodness, darling! You’ll never believe it!” Hope couldn’t keep the shock from her tone as she stabbed her finger on the article in The Times.

  Felix looked up enquiringly from where he was eating his breakfast at the table opposite.

  “Miss Annabelle Hunt is to marry Lord Westfall.”

  Felix stood up and went round behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder as he read aloud the news and Hope twisted to look at him, smiling as she gazed out at the snow-capped mountains while Felix read aloud the words, and the past flooded back.

  “Well, provided nothing happened to prevent it, they’re already happily wedded,” Felix said, pointing to the date.

  Two months prior. Although it took a long time for London newspapers to reach the Black Forest, this one must have been unusually delayed.

  “Are you all right, my love?” Felix murmured, in that concerned, reassuring way of his that had been so hard to get used to. Not that he mollycoddled her. Hope had made sure he didn’t do that for long. But, for as long as she could remember, no one had concerned themselves about Hope unless it was to further their own ends.

  She nodded.

  “And baby’s doing well?” Gently he placed his hand upon her belly, not yet showing, but occupied by a growing little being that had, declared Felix, added a layer of joy to his life he could barely credit.

  “Baby’s doing very well. And so is its mother.” Hope twined her hands behind Felix’s neck and brought his face down for her kiss.

  They were interrupted by the arrival of the parlourmaid carrying a silver salver with several letters bearing London postmarks. Hope straightened, thanking then dismissing the servant. She had taken well to being mistress of her own household and every day basked in the relief that her past was not about to destroy the happiness she’d found with her new husband.

  “One for each of us, including news from Charlotte!” she cried happily, bending over Felix to reach for a knife to slit the envelope, then unfolding the parchment. “Oh, and she’s having another baby!” she added when she’d scanned the page. “I wish I could see her children. And Charlotte. It’s been nearly four years.”

  “Would you really?”

  “Of course, I would!”

  “I mean, would you really want to go back to England? With all its dangers?” Felix tapped the letter he’d just read. “It’s an invitation from the London Literary Society to speak about On Her Majesty’s Service.”

  Felix had not idled his time away in their mountain eyrie. In between loving Hope, he’d penned an exciting spy novel which had started life as a distraction when he refused to return to England without his darling wife.

  Hope clapped her hands, excitedly. “What an honour! You want to go, don’t you? Surely you need to, since you became Lord Lambton?”

  “I won’t go without you, and I don’t think it’s wise for you to return after so short a period of time.”

  Hope regarded him seriously. For some months, she’d been assessing the right time to broach the subject. She took his hands and began to chafe them lovingly. “You were the one who endured so much during the trial. My identity was protected. You arranged everything, Felix. And it’s not as if you’re proposing to live there. I have no fear in going back if you can contrive to keep my presence secret as you managed so assiduously before.”

  He looked troubled. “That’s just it, Hope. I don’t want to keep your presence secret. I want the world to know you as my wife, Hope. I want your stepmother to accord you the respect you deserve and which she withheld, and which makes her an accessory in the terrible crimes against you.”

  Hope shook her head. “You want a true justice, my sweetheart, but that’s not possible. At least for another few years, it’s wisest for me not to be introduced as your lawful wedded wife”

  She was cut off by an announcement from the returning parlourmaid that they had an unexpected visitor who’d just arrived in the village and, learning that they were residents of the chateau on the hill, wished to pay his respects to Lord and Lady Lambton. “A gentleman by the name of Lord Farrow.”

  Hope gasped, and Felix looked discomposed before he said to the parlourmaid in German that he and his wife would be delighted to attend to Lord Farrow in the drawing room in five minutes.

  “I can’t possibly appear!” Hope whispered. Lord Farrow had been one of her greatest admirers when she worked at Madame Chambon’s.

  Felix only had to look at her panicked face to understand her. “If we’re to visit England, then consider this your first test.” He raised her hand and brought it to his lips. “Courage, darling. You’re not the one who deserves opprobrium. I’m right here with you. And are you not the most consummate actress in the world when you need to be? Why, there was a time when I was certain you cared nothing for me!”

  On Felix’s arm, Hope swept into the elegant vault-ceilinged withdrawing room of the chateau they’d leased since they’d fled to the German dominion following the trial that had exonerated Felix who had been found to have acted purely in self defence after Wilfred Hunt, horribly drunk, had tried to murder him with a fire iron.

  “Lord Farrow, I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure,” Hope murmured after Felix had introduced her. Madame Chambon’s training had been thorough, and there was no sign of the terror Hope felt at being recognised, even as his lordship sent her a long and scrutinising look after he’d failed to hide his surprise.

  “Is anything the matter, my Lord?” Felix enquired as he led them to a cluster of seats arranged around the fireplace.

  Lord Farrow appeared to collect himself. “No. Yes, that is, Mrs Durham—or should I say, Lady Lambton—looks familiar.”

  Hope feigned surprise as she exchanged looks with her husband. “Do you know, Felix, that’s the second time someone’s said that to me.” She laughed. “Another friend who came to visit Felix said exactly the same thing: that I bear a striking similarity to someone who was well known to them in England. When I quizzed him on who it was, his memory failed him.” She turned back to Lord Farrow. “Tell me, who is the lady you speak of whom I so closely resemble? It’s rather amusing to be mistaken for someone else.”

  Lord Farrow flushed hotly and shook his head. “I can’t quite recall and besides, you are far more beautiful than she, Lady Lambton, even if I can’t remember her name.” When it looked as if Hope might persist with her questioning, he went on in a rush, “And you’re even more beautiful than your sister whom I met some months ago with her husband at the theatre. I believe you’ve spent the last five years in Germany.”

  Hope seated herself and inclined her head. “That’s correct. Lord Lambton and I would very much like to return to England, though, if only to visit. Why, we were in fact discussing the possibility when you were announced.” Hope smiled warmly at her husband, the glint in his eye telling her she was doing well.

  Lord Farrow cleared his throat, dragging his admiring gaze from Hope’s face to his host’s. “In that case, perhaps you’d both be my guests for a little shooting party on my estate I’m organising next August—should you be there at that time. If you follow the Hunt, you’ll be in excellent company.”

  Hope and Felix exchanged looks, and Hope nodded slowly. “I believe that would fit in well with Felix’s itinerary. He’s been asked to address the London Literary Society,” she added proudly.

  “Splendid!” Lord Farrow clapped his hands together. “I’m so glad I looked in on you. You’ve garnered quite the notoriety, and I’ll confess my curiosity got the better of me.”

  “Notoriety?” Hope asked, cautiously.

  “Lord Lambton’s runaway success. His book!” Lord Farrow explained. “Perhaps you don’t know that everyone back home has been talking about it.” A shad
ow crossed his face, and he lowered his voice. “I hope you didn’t think I was referring to that…other matter.”

  Hope saw that Felix was looking warily at their visitor who went on, seemingly unaware of the sudden tension. “Hunt was despised, in the circles to which I belonged, at any rate. Although he was never called to account for it, he was a bounder. A thief and a liar. It came as little surprise to anyone that he could also be capable of violence and, my dear Lord Lambton, it was perfectly understandable in most people’s eyes that you, being a man of honour, did the only thing you could under the circumstances.”

  When Lord Farrow had gone, Hope exhaled in relief as Felix took her into his arms.

  “We’ve passed our first initiation,” Felix murmured into her hair. “And you were marvellous.”

  “But will I be so marvellous if Lord Farrow does invite us to his estate and suddenly I’m faced with so many of the men I once knew under…circumstances I’d care not to remember.” An unexpected sob rose in her throat. “Oh, Felix, surely an encounter like this—and every similar one to follow—will erode just that bit more of your respect for me?”

  He put her away from him, shaking his head as he smiled.

  “All that matters to me is what you are: a brave, clever woman whom I’m lucky enough to call my wife. And, if Lord Farrow invites us to his estate, and we join in the Hunt, it’s my intention to do what I failed to do all those years ago and which might have inexorably changed the future had I not lost my nerve but rather just kissed you as you lay on the soft earth, in that secluded clearing.”

  “Oh, Felix, I would like that very much,” Hope said upon a sigh, closing her eyes as she nestled against his chest, breathing in his wonderful, familiar, and comforting smell of fine wool and the sandalwood soap he used.

  And indeed, after Lord Farrow proved true to his word and Felix, Hope and their first child—a lusty son they named Benedict—were ensconced at Farrow House the following August, Hope and Felix did find an opportunity to peel off from the pack and discover the perfect grassy glade for Felix’s promised tryst.