Hope's Betrayal

by Grace Elliot

  The sash window above her head was open an inch or so, venting a smoking room. Now and again Hope caught a waft of tobacco and the hum of male conversation. She took little notice, until the word, "Huntley" made her skin prickle. The voices grew louder, as the men drew closer to the window. Her heart pounded. She had no wish to overhear a private conversation, but it was too late to move without drawing attention to herself. And then curiosity got the better of her as their talk continued in hushed tones.

  "….obviously Huntley has a liking for the gutter, just like his brother—that art fellow. He married a waif he found on the streets, tried to pass her off as a lady…"

  Hope bristled. It was obvious they referred to Jack and Eulogy. She almost stood and knocked on the window to put them right; Eulogy was a lady, she just didn’t happen to be raised as one.

  The man snorted. "I mean, marrying an artist's model—I ask you."

  “Yes, and now she’s breeding and they don’t seem to mind their line being tainted.”

  The man snorted again. “Devlins always were bad news and with her mysterious history—who can say she really is a purebred Devlin? Can’t imagine what Jack was thinking.”

  “Not thinking with something lower down than his brain!”

  The crude innuendo made Hope seethe.

  “Dashed lucky he’s not the eldest or he would disgrace the family more than he has already.”

  Hope bit her tongue.

  “Obviously don’t mind making a show of themselves though. I mean, You’d have thought Captain Huntley would have learned from his brother.”

  “Perhaps he has and wants to outdo him.”

  “Hmmm, hadn’t thought of that. Reverse snobbery. Dashed tasty chit though, even if I do say so myself.”

  “Yes, but absolutely no breeding, a fisherman’s daughter—the captain caught her smuggling and took her to his bed.”

  Hope ground her teeth, they could at least get their facts straight. She'd been nowhere near George's bed, although the prospect was not unappealing.

  “What?” Guffawed the first man.

  “I know, isn’t it priceless? If he marries the chit, he'll destroy any last vestige of respect for his command. His lasting legacy? The naval captain whose head was turned by a smuggler. ”

  Conflicting emotions spun around Hope’s head. With great difficulty she bit her tongue. But long after the men had strolled away, their words haunted her. Eulogy was one of the sweetest, most trusting people she had ever met—besides which she was the true daughter of an aristocratic family, albeit with a complicated childhood. If those gossips could say such things against someone legitimately born, how much more cruel would they be about a bastard?

  The thought chilled Hope. Truly, she was a nobody—worse than a nobody—the illegitimate child who had brought shame on two noble families. A sinking sensation settled in the pit of her stomach. She had been a naïve fool. Truly, if she had any feelings for George's reputation, she must leave.

  The pain in her heart intensified. The silvered moonlight mocked her, the shadows harsh and eerie as she shivered. Her mind was made up, she loved Huntley enough to let him go.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Hope shrank deeper into the shadows. The gossip had opened her eyes to the truth, that no matter how extravagant the costume, she would always be an imposter. Her pulse pounded like an executioner's drum. She should have left weeks ago and was considering slipping away without saying goodbye, when George's voice disturbed her thoughts. Feeling wretched, she forced a smile. Huntley mustn’t see her distress for he'd demand an explanation—and try to make her stay.

  "Apologies for being so long. I got buttonholed by a fellow I hadn’t seen since Dartmouth." Huntley ambled over with a smile on those kissable lips and her heart twisted—without doubt she loved him.

  "Please, do not be concerned on my part."

  "Is lemonade alright?"

  With a shaking hand she took the proffered glass. "Perfect, thank you."

  Huntley sat and shot her a sideways look. "Did something happen while I was gone?"

  "No."

  "It's just when I left you seemed so happy, now you seem a little…tense."

  "I assure you nothing is wrong," she said, wishing he would change the subject.

  "Is it because I was so long?" He persisted.

  "No! Please, just let it go."

  Awkwardly, they sipped their drinks. A couple of times Huntley opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it again. It occurred to Hope to wonder if the gossip had reached his ears and he was ashamed to be seen in her company. The evening had lost its appeal. Hope stared listlessly across the garden where torches lit shingle paths along which couples strolled arm-in-arm. The perfect night for romance mocking the fact that here she sat, too miserable to speak, planning to leave the man she loved.

  And George, he drained his drink in one and sat on the edge of the bench as if trying to distance himself. Knowing she couldn’t disguise her hurt, Hope turned away.

  Huntley cleared his throat. "It's a beautiful evening."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "I said, it's lovely weather for the time of year."

  "Oh yes. I suppose."

  "Look here, Hope. The thing is, there's something I've wanted to ask for a long time now, but never found the courage." He blurted out.

  "It's alright." She sighed. "You needn’t sound so worried, I know what you’re going to say."

  "You do?"

  "Yes, and I've been thinking about it myself."

  "You have?"

  "The last thing I want to do is bring shame on you and Lady Ryevale. I'll leave in the morning."

  "Leave?"

  "Unless you preferred I went tonight?"

  "No! Of course not."

  "The morning it is then."

  Huntley jumped up and then clutched his leg. He set about rubbing it while fixing Hope with his penetrating gaze. "What are you wittering about? I most certainly don’t want you to go."

  "Then what?" Her brows shot up into her hairline, as Huntley's wide lips tipped up at the corners. Slowly, steadying himself against the bench, he lowered himself into a kneeling position.

  "Captain? What are you doing? Get up!"

  "Hope Tyler…"

  Alarm fired through her blood. "Why so serious?"

  "Hope Tyler, would you do me the great honor…"

  Suddenly fearful, that if he proposed she lacked the strength to refuse, she tugged at his arm. "Captain Huntley, do get up. Your poor leg!"

  He laughed. "This is so like you, Hope, putting others before yourself."

  "Please, get up."

  “Not until I’ve asked you to be my wife. Hope Tyler, marry me!”

  Hope's mouth dropped open; she must protect Huntley from himself. “I can’t think with you like this. Please. Sit down.”

  "If you insist." Using the bench to lever himself up, Huntley sat. “There…and your answer?”

  For a moment she hesitated.

  “Why do you want to marry me?”

  Huntley’s face grew grave. “Because I have never met such an uncommonly agreeable woman.”

  The irony was so great she almost giggled. All the angst and he didn’t even love her!

  “So the main reason is because I don’t bore you?”

  “Well, that's not exactly,…”

  To think she had been agonising about how to let him down gently! Farcical! Huntley had just made everything a whole lot easier.

  “No, Captain Huntley, I will not marry you.”

  To give him credit, his mouth worked up and down. “But I thought…”

  “You thought what, Captain Huntley?” She challenged him with a steely stare. “You thought I would be grateful? That I’d fall at your feet to be a Huntley? Well no. I have more self-respect. I won’t marry for anything less than love.” There, she had trumped him; the word was obviously alien to his tongue.

  “Love?” Huntley seemed dumbfounded, shaking his head with his
eyes closed. “But I love you more than my own life. Did I not say that?”

  Hope felt as if she’d been slapped.

  “Your proposal sounded like a business proposition.”

  “Hope, I thought you knew. I took it as read you knew I love you—why else would I dress in this ridiculous costume and prostrate myself like an idiot—if not to please you.”

  “Oh!”

  He grasped her hand and placed it over his heart. Through the embroidered cloth she felt it hammer. “It beats only for you. You are my reason for living.”

  Emotion choked her throat. “But it cannot be.”

  “Why not? I love you—heart soul and body. I have loved you since I first set eyes on you, even when I thought you were a boy, my body knew I loved you. Please, say yes.”

  “No,” Tears sprang to her eyes. “Please don’t be difficult, just accept my answer is no.”

  “Do you love me?”

  Hope gasped, her heart breaking. She opened her mouth, bracing herself to lie, but false words refused to come.

  “I see in your eyes you do,” he squeezed her hand, “so what are you afraid of?”

  “I’m not afraid for myself,” she whispered, “but of ruining your life.”

  Huntley smiled patiently. “Hope, the only way you could do that is if you walked away.”

  Exquisite anguish penetrated her soul and she almost cried aloud.

  “Tell me what bothers you?” He entreated. “Is it because I am not the man I was? Because I walk with a limp?”

  “Of course not.”

  “I see your distress, but don’t understand. Please, I have to know, my dearest, tell me.”

  “If…if I married you…” she stuttered and then the words spilled out, “the gossips would eat you alive, and any chance of a Naval career would be gone forever. Your reputation in tatters.”

  Huntley sat back “Tis true,” he said, “the Navy was my life, my reason for existing, to smell the salt air, the adventure, risking life and limb…”

  Her heart chilled, after all his protestations of love, she was right.

  “But that was before…before I had a better reason for living…you! I've had time to come to terms with my situation and I don’t mind so much now. Before, those were empty years, I was restless, to give life purpose I sought to right wrongs, to do my best by King and country. But now I have a greater reason…you.

  Hope Tyler—marry me!”

  “I….I don’t know what to say.”

  “How about yes?”

  She clutched her gown, she could not let her selfish desires color what was best for him. At the very least she needed time.

  “I need to think.”

  “Very well,” Huntley looked grave, “Never have I met a woman I wanted to spend more than ten minutes—let alone a lifetime—until you. So I can wait.”

  Hope looked down to hide her confusion. Huntley stood.

  “You look exhausted."

  She nodded. "I would like to leave now."

  "I shall summon the carriage. Will you be alright here alone for a few minutes?”

  Hope nodded, but couldn’t look at him for fear she would crumble. She felt the air move as he bowed and heard his uneven steps as he left to find Lady Ryevale and summon the carriage. Only once he was out of sight did her shoulders sag and she gave way to tears.

  For several minutes she sat quietly weeping as she struggled to compose herself."Excuse me, Miss Tyler, but are you alright?" A figure stepped out from behind the shrubbery.

  "Mr. Oswald!" Hope gasped. "How long have you been there?"

  Oswald looked awkward. "Ah, I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that—only I was passing when Captain Huntley made his proposal—I didn’t like to interrupt and so I dropped into the shadows."

  "Ah. So you heard…everything?" The thought of Oswald knowing Huntley’s feelings made her uncomfortable.

  "It was certainly not my intention to eavesdrop."

  "Then I can rely on your silence?"

  "As a gentleman, that goes without saying. But the reason I made my presence known…"

  "Yes?" Why couldn’t this annoying man leave her to wallow?

  "…is because, you might want to consider an alternative offer. I would have bidden my time, but it seems Huntley has got there ahead of me, so best I show my hand."

  "I don’t follow?"

  "Miss Tyler, you are a very attractive woman… and I would like to court you."

  Hope's brow shot up in surprise.

  "It would be an arrangement pleasing to both sides. I am well-off, I keep a comfortable home and have much to offer the right woman."

  "Such things do not interest me."

  "And I believe we have a link in the Isle of Wight. I believe I have heard of your father—William Tyler."

  Hope regarded him in shock. "You know my father, but how?"

  He smiled indulgently, as speaking to a child. "My business sometimes takes me to the Island. Your father is well known among the fishing community."

  "You deal in fresh fish?" For some reason this surprised Hope, he wasn’t like any fish merchant she knew.

  "In a manner of speaking…"

  But before Oswald could elaborate further, and to Hope's immense relief, Captain Huntley returned.

  "Hallo. Oswald isn’t it? Fancy meeting you here."

  "Indeed, at your service." Oswald bowed in an obsequious manner. "I saw Miss Tyler was alone and thought to keep her company."

  "Very thoughtful of you," Huntley said in a tone which implied otherwise, "but I'm back now, and Miss Tyler and I are about to leave."

  "Such a shame. I couldn’t entreat you to change your minds? Miss Tyler and I were having such an interesting exchange of ideas."

  Hope started to bristle. "Really? I thought our conversation at an end."

  "In that case, please consider what I've said." Oswald narrowed his eyes like a reptile. "I shall take my leave."

  *****

  Even though fatigue soaked her bones, sleep eluded Hope as she listened to a distant clock mark the passing night hours. Every time she closed her eyes, the gossip's bile spilled over into her mind and she woke again. If she married George, his career would be over and if he loved her now, she wasn’t so naïve as to think he wouldn’t hear gossip, and start to resent her. Hope finally fell asleep just before dawn, confirmed in the opinion that if she truly loved George, she must leave.

  As morning light flooded through the curtains Hope was woken by a feeling of dread. For a moment she was confused as to why, then remembered the Captain's proposal and her heart sank afresh. She couldn’t face him. He would try to talk her around and she wasn’t sure she had the strength to resist. She would slip away—leave a note. But something was wrong, something overlooked. Then it came to her, Lady Ryevale had been so kind, it was wrong to leave without an explanation, she owed her that at least.

  Reluctantly, Hope pushed aside the bedcovers and rose. Ruby had been in while she slept and laid out a fresh gown. Mechanically, Hope dressed and said goodbye to the familiar walls. She remembered the first time she had seen this room, how she had felt so overwhelmed. Perhaps that was the problem, she thought herself grander than she was and had forgotten her roots. With a renewed sense of purpose, Hope decided to write Lady Ryevale a letter, with the intention of being far away when she read it.

  But a surprise awaited Hope in the office, in the form of Lady Ryevale already seated at the desk, papers spread around her. Hope blinked in bewilderment.

  "What...?"

  "Come in, come in, dear." Lady Ryevale peered over the top of her semi-lunette glasses. "I didn’t expect you up so early."

  "I thought you'd lie in....after the ball."

  "The accounts were on my mind so I decided to deal with them head-on."

  Hope glanced nervously around, half-expecting George to be hiding in the shadows.

  "And Captain Huntley?"

  "Don’t speak to me about George! He was acting most oddly at brea
kfast, said he had business in town, but wouldn’t tell me what and he had the most peculiar look in his eye. Took the gig and went—I don’t suppose he said anything to you last night?"

  "No, Ladyship." Hope struggled to keep her face composed.

  "Oh well, I'll find out in due course. But in the meantime, the accounts. Now be a dear and make notes."

  Without knowing how, Hope found herself sitting at the desk, quill in hand. In the cold light of day, leaving a letter seemed cowardly. She would speak to Her Ladyship and explain, but she must pick the moment, perhaps later that morning, once the accounts were done…

  "Did you get that, Hope?"

  Hope jumped, startled as she realised Her Ladyship had been talking to her. "Sorry, I was miles away."

  "I can see that. I can manage by myself if you're too tired."

  The idea of escaping had appeal. No, Hope decided, the least she could do was finish the job she'd started.

  "No, no, I'm fine, please do go on."

  Her Ladyship looked at her with suspicion. "Are you sure George didn’t let anything slip last night?"

  "Quite sure." Hope stared fixedly at the ledger.

  "Hmm, very strange." Her Ladyship gazed out at the misty grayness which veiled the lawns and turned shrubs into hunched ghosts. "Hardly the sort of weather for a pleasure trip."

  "No, Ladyship."

  "Oh well. Now, where was I?"

  "The miller's invoice, Ladyship."

  They worked steadily, bills filed and the amounts tallied in the ledgers. The effort of concentration soothed Hope's nerves, distancing her from the moment when she said goodbye. She was so deeply immersed in the columns of figures that when the maid entered, it came as a surprise.

  "Beggin' pardon, Lady Ryevale, but there is a gentleman to see you."

  "At this hour?" Her Ladyship removed her glasses. "The caller's name?"