The next day when Martha came to see Hope, she brought their first letters from Mary and Honoria, although they were signed Mary and Helen. It was almost four weeks since Honoria and Hope had left.
Hope smiled as her mother read each letter aloud to her, starting with Mary's.
'My Dearest Hope and my Darling Sister,
We have been in America for two days now and we are still staying in New York City whilst we decide where we would like to settle. We are staying at Sturtevant House, a nice hotel where the immigration officials suggested that two single women would be safe and looked after, without costing a fortune.
The ship we came over on was lovely, although I believe that the steerage passengers were a lot more crowded than 2nd class. Helen was very frightened at first, but she is handling everything well. When we got to Castle Clinton, where we had to register our entrance to the country, I thought that Helen might be terrified by the noise, crowds and chaos, but she actually seems much calmer now that we are here. I believe that now we are an ocean away, Helen is beginning to believe that we might be safe.
I too must confess that I am feeling excited to be here. The country really is so large that it astounds me at times, but I look forward to discovering it. Or parts of it, at least.
New York is a very busy city, far busier than anything I am used to, which is why I do not believe that we can settle here. Crime is also rife here, so the immigration officers informed us. From what locals have told us so far, Chicago sounds nice. In contrast, it is a much smaller city but something of a transportation hub, so it has all the benefits of a city without the associated problems.
Some have also suggested that we venture south or east, to the frontiers as it were. Helen seems slightly enamoured by this idea, but I believe it is always easier to hide among a crowd. Also, while Helen has shown that she is willing, I don't believe that she understands the amount of work that would be involved in keeping a remote house. If you have an opinion, we would be very interested to hear it.
I'm afraid I don't have time to say much more now; we brought so little with us that we need to stock up a little before we move on. Helen has been fitted for two new dresses which she is very much looking forward to collecting.
I do hope that Ma is not too troubled by my loss. Please tell me what you know when you reply.
Please reply to the hotel address on the stationery. The manager has assured me that if we have moved on, he will forward your letters to us.
With fondest regards,
Mary'
“How good to hear that they are settling in well and looking forward to the challenge.” Martha said, folding up the letter and unfolding the next one. “Honoria sent us a letter each.”
'Dear Hope,
We have been in America for two days now, and I have to say that I have never felt lighter since I married Malcolm. I feel so free, as though I can do anything that I want!
My only regret is that you couldn't come with us. I do so miss you at times.
Mary is a lovely woman and has been very good to me; thank you for asking her to accompany me. Were it not for her steady nerves, there are times when I think I should have lost my equilibrium. The docks for example, were so crowded when we landed, and the immigration hall was complete mayhem, but Mary kept her head.
The hotel we are staying in is very nice, although we have opted for a middle class establishment rather than a more upper class hotel. Still, the staff are all very friendly and the manager seems to have taken a liking to us, going out of his way to help us find places. Without him, I believe there are times that we might have gotten lost. I also cannot tell you how nice it was to sleep on a bed that didn't rock with the waves.
I have been to London during the Season, but the sheer size of New York puts London to shame, and we have not even seen very much of it yet.
We are still very busy, buying many things that we didn't have time to before the journey, although the ship staff were very good when we needed something. We are also asking everyone we meet what they know about the country and where they believe might be a good place to settle. One gentleman told me that if I was looking for a husband, I should try Texas. He was so earnest that I didn't have the heart to tell him that it was the furthest thing from my mind at the moment, or that I was actually trying to lose a husband!
I must thank you again for what you and your mother have done for me. I do hope that you are both well.
I also hope that James hasn't taken the news of my disappearance too badly. Please tell him that I would want him to focus on his studies and not to grieve.
Please write back soon, I cannot wait to hear from you.
Your dearest friend,
Helen.'
Hope's smile had faded by the end of the letter. How could she write back and tell her friend that her brother had shot Malcolm? Or that Malcolm had attacked Hope and now she was too frightened to leave her bed.
Honoria was approaching what could be terrifying with remarkable courage and optimism. She didn't feel worthy of being Honoria's friend, so how could she reply when she was so feeble?
“Won't you write back?” Martha asked.
Hope turned over in her bed, pulled the covers up to her neck and reached a hand out to pet MacDuff.
“Not today,” she answered.
“Darling, Honoria would love to hear from you. Please?”
“I can't, Mar. Not today.”
Martha knew better than to badger her daughter so she dropped the subject for now. She just wished that she knew how to help her.
Although he still hadn't been told where Honoria was, James was thrilled to hear that not only was she safe, but that she seemed very happy.
“Did you hear?” he asked as he came into Hope's bedroom. “Honoria's first letter arrived today.”
“I heard.” Hope sounded very deflated.
“Thank you for what you did for her.”
Hope sighed.
“What is it?” he asked, pulling his chair up beside the bed.
“Nothing,”
“It's not nothing, but if you don't wish to tell me, then I shan't ask again.”
Hope turned her head to look at him, wondering why he never pressured her. Oddly, the lack of pressure made her more inclined to answer.
“I failed your sister,” she explained.
“I don't understand?”
“Were it not for my foolish plan, you would not have shot Malcolm and be facing jail. Honoria will never forgive me if anything happens to you.”
“I rather think that it is I who failed Honoria,” he said, his happiness fading somewhat. “I read her journals,” he went on to explain. “Time after time she tried to tell me of her misgivings and her pain, but I was blind to it. I, who knew her better than anyone, couldn't spot what you and your family did.” He hung his head. “I don't think I challenged Malcolm to a duel just because I was angry at him. I think... I think that a part of me wouldn't have minded if he had won, because I feel I that I deserve my fate.”
“Then surely the fact that you won, means that God forgives you?”
“He might,” James smiled wryly, “but it's proving much harder to forgive myself, even knowing that she is safe and alive and... Well, I can't help thinking that if I had not provoked James with the duel, he might not have taken his anger out on you.”
“You can't believe that?”
“He hadn't shown any signs of violence to you beforehand, so I must assume that I pushed him over the edge. I was prepared for him to be angry at me but perhaps if I had been thinking clearly, I would have realised that he is a bully and as such, only picks on those be believes to be weaker than himself, so I would never have been his target.”
“It's not your fault. Malcolm is a vile man and I am certain that sooner or later, he would have taken his anger out on me. He has no proof but he believes that I am hiding Honoria from him. I think it was inevitable in many ways but I too, was unable to predict his actions.”
“I am still amazed that he was well enough to try such a thing.”
“He was drunk,” Hope explained. “I smelled whisky on his breath, and too much drink can make people reckless.”
James sighed. “I just don't understand why a man like him, who seemingly has everything that he wants, would be so angry and bitter.”
“No, I don't understand that either.”
Hope debated with herself for a moment but he had been honest with her, so she felt better about being honest with him.
“Ever since the attack, I can't help but wonder how she endured it. I know that I should be getting up and using the bath chair, but I just can't.” Her eyes filled with tears.
“Do you know why not?”
“I'm frightened,” she admitted. “And I know that it isn't reasonable or rational, but in here feels safe, and out there...”
Touched by her honest admission, James reached out and took her hand as it rested on the covers.
“You know, even the longest journeys begin with a single step.”
Hope looked into his eyes as she considered his statement. The longer she thought about it, the more she realised that he was right. She was about to suggest that she try when he spoke up, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable with him.
“Shall I take MacDuff out before we start?”
“Oh, yes. Yes, that is a good idea.”
So James left with the dog and Hope bit her lower lip as she considered his words again. Maybe she could do this.
She swung out of bed and, rather inelegantly, hopped over to her dresser. She pulled a clean night shirt on, then belted her dressing gown over it. Even if she had wanted to get dressed in her full regalia, she didn't have time. She worried that if she didn't do this now, she might never find the courage again.
She slipped her feet into her slippers, although her sprained foot was too tight with the splint and bandage, so she left that slipper off and hopped over to the doorway. She opened the door, peeking out into the hall, like some thief in the night. Her behaviour was ridiculous and she recognised it as such, but she couldn't help it. Thankfully, no one was about, so she hopped into the doorway and looked around. The stairs were to her left but there was quite some gap before she got to the railing to hold onto. She knew that she could call for help but she didn't want to.
She was just about to try to hop from the doorway over to the railing, when James came up the stairs. He put MacDuff down at the top and smiled warmly at her.
“You did it!”
She shrugged, feeling uncomfortable for taking pleasure in such a small act.
“In all good conscience, I can't let you hop around on one leg so if it helps, the next few dozen steps are on me.” He held his arms out towards her.
Hope debated with herself for a moment but he was right, she had come this far, she might as well go a little further, so she nodded her agreement.
James carefully picked her up, bridal style, and then made his way downstairs with her. Waiting at the bottom was the bath chair, in to which he placed her. She was surprised when something cold and wet nudged her hand and she saw MacDuff standing beside her, his splinted paw held in the air.
“Did you do the steps all by yourself,” she asked him, more thrilled by his accomplishment than her own but if he could do it, she could too.
James just stood there, making no attempt to wheel the chair anywhere. He waited until she was through with the dog before he spoke.
“Do you want to go back up?” he asked.
Hope looked back towards her bedroom but found the idea terribly dull.
“I believe it's about time for afternoon tea, perhaps we could take it with Mama.”
“That sounds wonderful.” He went behind the chair and took the handles to push her towards the family parlour. Someone must have oiled the chair recently, because it moved with relative ease.
A few servants passed them and did a double take, but Hope did her best to ignore them. She didn't want to feel odd, even although that was how she had been behaving recently. Thankfully, her mother and father didn't seem to think there was anything unusual about their daughter being wheeled into the parlour in her night clothes and dressing gown.
“Hope, darling, how are you?” Martha asked, pulling the bell to have more cups brought up.
“I'm fine, I think.”
“Good.”
Lucien went over to her and kissed her cheek. “It's good to see you, darling.”
“I didn't expect you to be here,” she answered guilelessly.
“No.” His smile faded somewhat and Hope noticed how worn he looked. The maid came in then with more cups and Martha began to serve the tea. James wheeled Hope closer to the sofa where Lucien and Martha were sitting, taking the armchair himself.
“What's wrong?” Hope asked.
“It's Malcolm,” Lucien confessed, although he didn't really want to. “Dr McCoy came to see me earlier. Apparently Malcolm has caught an infection and is in a serious condition.”
Without thinking about it, Hope reached out for James' hand, trying to offer him some comfort since this seemed to be news to him too.
“Is he still in jail?” Hope asked.
“No, he was released earlier today because... well Dr McCoy believes he has developed blood poisoning. He was released because he is not expected to last the night, but Dr McCoy can at least offer him comfort in his clinic. He assured me though, that Malcolm is secured to the bed, so you don’t have to worry about him getting free.”
“Just about James being charged with murder.” Hope finished.
“Yes,” Lucien admitted.
Hope didn't know what to say. She wanted to rage and yell and curse, but instead felt as although she was shrinking. How could this be happening? It was two weeks since the duel, how could he get an infection now?
“I've written to Mr Klein and asked him to come and advise us further as soon as he is able.”
James looked to Hope, certain that the news would please her. He thought that he had detected an attraction between them and even although it pained him to see her with another man, he wouldn't object if it pleased Hope. Right now he would do almost anything to make her smile like she used to, so he was surprised when Hope seemed to recoil slightly.
Hope didn't want to see him. Her mother had suggested writing to him, but she didn't want anyone to have to see her in the state she was. Her bruises were healing, some almost gone, but now Edward Klein was unfamiliar, different, and she didn't want him to see her as the pathetic creature that she felt like at the moment.
She knew she couldn't object though, because James needed to know the legal situation. Martha handed her a cup of sweet tea and she drank it.
“Who would have ever thought that I would be upset that Malcolm Arundell is dying?” she asked rhetorically.
“Wait a moment though, if Malcolm does die, wouldn’t that mean that...”
Martha caught James' meaning, that Honoria could return but she didn't want them to discuss such a thing when servants could be listening and shook her head.
James loaded up a plate with sandwiches and a slice of cake and absently handed it to Hope, before preparing his own. She hadn't eaten much recently but being distracted, she ate almost unknowingly.
“Do you suppose they will charge me with murder?” James asked.
“Hard to say,” Lucien replied. “You did cause him serious injury, but I suppose it comes down to whether your bullet hole introduced his infection, if that can even be ascertained.
“Jails are hardly hygienic places,” Martha offered. “Perhaps we could make a good case that he caught the infection there.”
“Possibly,” Lucien agreed. “We could argue that if he hadn't attacked Hope, then he would never have been in prison where he caught the infection, and it's possible that he even reopened the wound during the struggle. Or the prosecution could argue that without his bullet wound, he would not have caught the infection, regardless of being
jailed or not.”
Hope listened to their conversation with interest but didn't put forth any of her own ideas. She knew nothing more than her father and perhaps a great deal less given that he was a magistrate, so she didn't feel as if it wasn't her place to offer an uninformed opinion.
Chapter Twenty Three
When James came to see Hope on the Friday, he had been teaching at the school again, so he was later than usual. Hope had gotten dressed the last two days (which with a splinted ankle and wrist, was quite an ordeal, even with a lady's maid) but she had still kept largely to her room.
Now she was sitting by the fire and turned to James when he came in, smiling at him.
“Shall I take MacDuff out?” he asked as usual.
“Not today. He's getting about largely on his own now, so I just let him out of the room when he cries and one of the servants sees him out to the garden.”
“I'm glad he's feeling better,” James said as he took the armchair next to her.
“How was school?”
“Frustrating,” he admitted with a sigh. “Sally earned her blue ribbon today, the first that anyone has earned, but all that intelligence will go to waste. She could easily become a teacher but I spoke to her after class last week and her mother has already asked at the cotton mill, about the possibility of her being taken on. I don't think she'll even be allowed to stay another year.”
Hope nodded sadly; she too had lamented the same thing. In fact the only reason why Sally was still in school, was because Mary had been to see her family and offered to pay the school and lunch fees out of her own pocket.
“Unfortunately, Sally's father died in a factory accident a few years ago, leaving the mother struggling to survive. They have already moved to a smaller home but Sally has three siblings under six. Her mother leaves the children who are too young for school with a neighbour, but one woman's wage just isn't enough to support six children. Her oldest brothers, who are ten and eight, are already working. Sally is lucky to have been able to remain in school at all.”
“Eight?” James sounded shocked. “That's far too young to send a child to work.”
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