“I believe you’re weighing up an offer from Lord Westfall. I heard it at my club.” He closed his eyes briefly as if in pain. “He’s a great deal richer than I am.”
“But not as handsome as you, Felix. Or as satisfying a lover.” Hope plucked her dressing gown from the end of the bed and shrugged into it, careful to appear heedless of his feelings. “He’s due here shortly, so I must prepare myself. You realise what Madame Chambon would do if she caught you trespassing? I don’t know how you slipped past her guard, but let me reassure you that I enjoyed our little session very much. I’m sorry I stole Wilfred’s promissory note from you. That was naughty of me but I’m glad you’re not too angry. I’m glad you came back for more of what we enjoyed this afternoon.” She tucked a curl behind one ear and gave him a meaningful smile. “And I hope that when you’ve fulfilled your matrimonial obligations and given Annabelle the husbandly attention every new wife deserves, you will call on me again.”
Hope had no concern whatsoever for Annabelle. Charlotte was a different matter. Until her sister was safely married, she wasn’t about to put a foot wrong.
“I suppose if I’m in the market for sex with no strings attached and no danger of my heart becoming engaged, then a heartless jade like you would suit my purposes.” He finished buttoning his jacket at the door then bowed his head. “It was, perhaps, a good thing we’ve had this conversation. It’s brought me clarity, for I’d always believed you felt…something…for me.” He touched his heart. “Something that might have grown into what I felt for you. Now I realise you always were the hardened little trollop my mother called you and, certainly, this way of life has hardly softened you.”
Chapter 11
Hope threw herself face down on the bed and held her breath as she listened to his footsteps pounding down the passage. She was unprepared when the door was pushed open and Faith’s voice floated tentatively through her distress.
“I…I’m sorry to interrupt.”
The soft hand of sympathy that the girl laid on Hope’s bare shoulder was too much. For so long, Hope had bottled up her emotions so that even she might have believed Felix’s assessment that she had no heart. Until the storm of emotion hit.
“Hush!” Faith climbed onto Hope’s bed and wound her arms about Hope’s shoulders. “Hush, you don’t want Madame Chambon to hear you.” She sounded frightened. “I shouldn’t have let him in, but when he said you’d visited him earlier this afternoon and hinted at what you felt about him, I’d hoped he might …” Her voice trailed away.
Hope tried to bring her sobs under control. If the other girls heard, Madame would be here in a flash demanding to know every last detail, and declaring roundly her disgust that Hope had failed in one of her primary duties: to be impervious to all feeling when it came to the gentlemen. Hope had never received one of her famous lectures, though girls who’d been so foolish as to have fallen in love had.
Hope rubbed her eyes. “Hoped he might what? Ask me to marry him? That doesn’t happen at Madame Chambon’s.” She gave a bitter laugh.
“But if he was here, why didn’t you tell him what you really felt? He might have set you up. Isn’t that what all you girls want? A steady gentleman who is kind, and for whom you might feel a little tenderness.”
Hope shook her head. “I couldn’t tell him, though how I longed to.”
“Why not?”
“Because unless he marries a certain young lady, I’ve been assured by someone that my sister will learn the truth of what I am, which will threaten her magnificent marriage which is to take place on Saturday.”
“Oh. Blackmail.” Faith nodded slowly. “That’s a difficult one. Still, there’s always later.” She brightened. “Once you see your sister safely married, you can approach your young man and tell him the truth. Even if he is married, to someone else, he’ll be glad to know what you really feel for him. And then he might offer to set you up.”
Hope shook her head. “I don’t believe I’ll ever have an opportunity to tell him how I feel. Not when there is a malevolent gentleman who is determined to kill all feeling between Mr Durham and myself. And so, I must get used to the fact that the one man I’ve ever had feelings for is lost to me.” She drew in a shuddering breath and apologised. “I don’t know why I’m allowing myself to behave so foolishly when I knew long ago our love was doomed. Why, at fifteen, when I used to steal glances at him in church, my mother would kick my ankle and whisper that a future viscount, Mr Durham, would never look at a penniless female like me. A governess was what I was destined to become, and she always said I must remember my place.”
She saw Faith was dressed for entertaining. Her hair was curled and elaborately pinned, and she wore a silk princess-line gown in palest blue with an elaborately looped bustle skirt and train.
Hope laughed, her look admiring, as she attempted to steer the conversation from her own distress. She sat up, settling herself against the bed end. “You’d turn every head in the room if you were being presented at court.”
“My father is a silk weaver. Who knows but he wove this.” Faith touched the fabric reverently.
Hope put out her hand and touched the girl’s silk-clad shoulder. “And so you must look like a duchess to entertain the gentlemen. How long have you been here?”
“Eight months and I’ve never been with a gentleman.”
Shocked, Hope looked from Faith’s exquisite ensemble to the girl’s beautiful face. “But Madame Chambon teaches you the graces with everyone else. She teaches you how to entice the gentlemen with gestures and wit. She pays for your clothes”
Faith shrugged. “My benefactress pays for my clothes and for my lessons.”
“Your benefactress? She pays for you to live here?” Hope wasn’t sure how to go on. “What do your parents think about that?”
“Of course they don’t know. I was dismissed from my position as a housemaid one night after the young gentleman of the house took liberties. And Miss Gedge, an elderly lady staying at the house rescued me and, true to what she told my parents, has been responsible for turning me into a lady.”
Hope couldn’t fathom it. “A lady? Here? At Madame Chambon’s? Who is this Miss Gedge? Have I seen her?”
“She’d never come to this house. She’s a real lady. But I meet her for tea at Fortnum & Mason’s once a month where she ‘puts me through my paces’ as she calls it.”
“And is she satisfied with your…progress?”
“When I saw her yesterday she seemed satisfied.” The girl pressed her lips together. “Mrs Gedge smiled—which is rare—and touched my cheek. She called me her ‘beautiful weapon’.”
“Hope!”
The two girls drew apart guiltily as Madame Chambon threw open the door and beheld the miscreants with a fiendish glare.
“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 inc
isive 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 look blooming.”
“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 nothing 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.” Charlotte 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 which was dated after she was supposed to have boarded her boat for Germany.” 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?”
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