Of course he hadn’t intimidated her publisher. Luke had charmed him. Utterly dazzled Mr Cooper into re-evaluating his own rigid stance until he considered it his own idea in the first place.
How annoyingly clever of him.
‘Then news of your youngest sister’s success leaked out and it seemed as if the planets were aligned. It was only at the end of our conversation that he mentioned he was biased about your literary genius and that you were going to be his wife.’ A full week before she had pushed him into asking her to marry him.
That gloriously inescapable fact seemed to banish all the anger.
He was intending to ask. Always had been. She hadn’t twisted the dratted man’s arm at all. Perhaps she wouldn’t strangle him, but the jury was still out over the ice cream.
Hope hailed a hackney to take her to Gunter’s, where she impatiently waited an hour for him to arrive. When he didn’t, in a panic and imagining all sorts of hideous reasons to explain it, she hired another one to take her home where she was met by a white-faced Charity and her mother, who rushed towards her the moment she put one foot through the front door.
‘What’s happened?’ Because clearly something hideous and catastrophic had. But of all her panicked and hideous imaginings, nothing could have possibly ever prepared her for the catastrophe which had.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
There is always a scandal at the Renshaw Ball, but I am all astonishment at what must surely be the biggest of them all. For the reclusive Dowager Marchioness of T. apparently never eschewed society at all—she was instead an inmate in a private madhouse for lunatics in Wiltshire! And if that bombshell wasn’t shocking enough to have you reaching for your smelling salts, Gentle Reader, then the accounts of how her insanity rendered her both witless and incoherent will! For I have it upon the most intimate authority from a lady close to the besotted Marquess that his mother’s physicians had to restrain her repeatedly over the years simply to prevent the deranged and deluded Dowager from hanging herself by the neck from the rafters of her cell...
Whispers from Behind the Fan
August 1814
Five days on and Luke still couldn’t think of Hope’s betrayal without wanting to smash something with his fists. Even if she hadn’t betrayed him outright, because he couldn’t believe she was that cruel and callous to have gone to the newspapers herself, she had betrayed his confidence somewhere and that was unforgivable.
Thanks to her indiscretion, perhaps tattling to her flighty sister Charity or the unsubtle Roberta who adored gossip because she liked to be the first to spread it, she had completely ruined his poor mother’s life. All those years of suffering, then the years of slow recovery, all his painstaking work to keep it all a secret to protect her were all now for nought. One careless conversation and it had all come crashing around their ears. The awful truth was out, and the impending relapse was as inevitable as his heartbreak and he couldn’t bear the thought of it.
Or her.
His own stupid fault for trusting Hope in the first place, he supposed, when he was usually so cautious about letting anyone in. It was, no doubt, brought about by the profound effect she had always had on him. But then again, he should have known better, as she had a profound effect over all men so he should have steered well clear. Instead, he had uncharacteristically thrown all caution to the wind and had been thoroughly seduced by the siren from the outset, and cross-eyed with lust, he had left his mother exposed. What had he been thinking to bare his soul to a woman from a family who made a near weekly appearance in the scandal sheets?
He never should have dragged his mother to London and he certainly never should have allowed himself to fall in love. Two hideous and gross errors of judgement which would have far-reaching and horrific consequences. All he could do now that he had returned her to the sanctuary of Tregally at breakneck speed, was wait for the inevitable fallout and deal with it as best he could.
To that end, he had sent a message to Dr Long Fox the moment they had arrived home late last night, informing him he would need to receive his mother at Brislington House as soon as there were obvious signs her health had begun to deteriorate.
His mother had put a brave face on it all though the long journey—but that mask would crumble soon enough. Bitter experience told him it was a matter of when, not if, and he had to be prepared. Perhaps for another long haul. In the meantime, all he could do was wait, quickly offload as many of his responsibilities in London as he legally could, and batten down the hatches again to prevent exposing her to more danger. It wasn’t much of a plan but, frankly, the best plan he could make in such a hurry.
If only it didn’t all hurt so blasted much.
If he could focus only on his mother and forget Hope, then he wouldn’t feel quite so out of control. However, his emotions were all over the place, clouding his mind while his heart bled buckets inside his chest.
He rested his forehead on the leaded glass of his study window and listlessly stared out at the stars.
What a hideous, but totally avoidable, mess.
‘Couldn’t sleep?’ His mother’s voice behind made him jump and he instantly squared his shoulders, not wanting her to see that he was broken too when she needed all his strength now more than ever.
‘I have too much to do.’ She was pale. Dark shadows ringed her eyes, making her look older than her fifty years. ‘I still need to write to my managers and my solicitor before I can go to bed but you should try to get some rest. Shall I fetch you some hot milk?’ Five days on and the crushing guilt meant he still couldn’t be in his mother’s company for more than a minute or two at a time. This time he couldn’t blame his uninterested father or his callous brother for threatening her mind. Ultimately, this mess was all his fault.
He was a blasted idiot!
Idiot!
And he should have known better.
‘I’d much rather some company.’
‘I’ll go wake Clowance.’ The nursemaid would know what to do. If anything, out of the three of them, Clowance was calmly taking it all in her stride.
‘Is it your plan to avoid me for ever, Luke? We’ve hardly swapped ten words since we left Bloomsbury. Please talk to me.’ She stroked his arm. ‘I can see you’re hurting.’
Of course he was hurting. He was in hell. ‘I should never have subjected you to London.’ Some of the guilt leaked out before he could stop it and he burdened her with his pain. ‘I keep thinking that if I’d have left you here or simply left the solicitor to deal with my unwanted inheritance and stayed here in the first place, none of this would have happened. I’m so sorry.’
‘I told you to go to London, as I recall, to have a grand adventure and then I pushed you into visiting because I wanted one too.’
‘Still—I should have mitigated against all this. I should have anticipated it.’
‘Why? Because I am your sole responsibility, put on this earth purely so that you could nobly protect me?’ She shook her head. ‘I never had you so that you could be my parent, Luke. That is not the way our relationship should be, and I hate the fact you feel so beholden and responsible when none of what happened was ever your fault.’
‘This is my fault.’
‘Of course it isn’t.’ She rubbed his back and stared out into the darkness too. ‘It’s funny... I’ve dreaded this moment for years. Dreaded being exposed. Dreaded peoples’ judgement of me and their judgement of you. Dreaded how I would cope with the shame of it all—dreaded if I could cope with the shame of it all. Now that it’s finally here, I have to say it’s all a strange anticlimax.’ Typically, she was minimising the impact to spare his feelings.
‘It is perfectly understandable that you feel devastated and lost. You have no need to hide it.’
‘I do feel devastated.’ She frowned, tilting her head to stare at him. ‘But for you—not for me. You are putting me before everything aga
in when I had finally hoped you were putting yourself first. You were so happy in Bloomsbury, my angel. Much happier than I have ever seen you.’
‘We’ll be happy again.’ He would do whatever it took to find his mother’s smile. ‘I promise you it will all pass. We’ll get through this together and in a few months what happened in London will be another part of the distant past.’
She shook her head. ‘Do you seriously think you will get over her in a few months?’
‘This isn’t about me.’
‘No...of course not. Heaven forbid you do something for yourself for a change. Prioritise your own life and your own happiness.’ For some reason she was angry at him. ‘Not when you have to watch me like a hawk for any sign I might lose my mind again! Clowance told me you’ve contacted the physician in anticipation of my next bout of insanity. She also told me you’d told her to watch me in case I start to behave irrationally.’ She prodded him hard in the bicep. ‘Your lack of faith is beyond insulting, Luke! And for the record, if anyone is being irrational right now it is you.’
‘Clowance shouldn’t...’ She stayed him with her hand.
‘Firstly, Clowance is my friend first and foremost nowadays, so she jolly well should have, and secondly, she trusts me enough to know that this will not break me, Luke. Do you hear me?’ She grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. ‘This will not break me! If anything, I am relieved it is all out in the open because I now no longer have to dread being exposed. Why should I care who knows what happened at Mill House? That place is an outrage which needs exposing and what happened to me there is what sent me mad the second time. That Cassius could do that to me out of revenge, legally and with no recourse, makes an ass out of the law. People have the right to know that.
‘The more I think upon it, the more I think I should have stayed put and talked to the newspapers myself, put forward my side of the story and the side of all the other poor wretches wrongfully incarcerated in similar hellholes still suffering all the abuse. Or better still allowed Hope to use her talent with words to tell the world what is happening to people up and down the country. I would have preferred to have told the truth with my head held high and proved to them that I am as sane as anyone, rather than running away with you like a coward and proving their suspicions to the contrary!’
‘Protecting you isn’t cowardly!’ And he resented the implication. ‘It is a responsibility I have always taken seriously, even if that is detrimental to my own happiness.’
Instantly her face changed to one of pity and she stroked his arm again. ‘If you love her, don’t you think you should have given her the benefit of the doubt and at least waited for her explanation? I cannot imagine Hope would ever go to the newspapers. You only have to read her book to see that she is principled and has a strong social conscience. And she loves you so very much, I cannot think what she stood to gain to jeopardise it all?’
‘An explanation wouldn’t have changed the facts, Mother.’ Not that he could have borne looking at her when he had to bid her goodbye. His overwhelming love for her would have made him waver when he needed to be resolute and his intense feelings would have clouded his judgement and stopped him from doing what his mother needed. ‘Whether she went directly to them herself, or she told someone who did, the fact remains she betrayed my confidence and yours when we entrusted her with the truth. Whichever way I try to dress that up—and believe me I have tried—that betrayal is unforgivable.’
‘But it makes no sense, Luke. She loves you. A blind man with blinkers on could see as clear as day you were the only one for her. The poor girl must be heartbroken.’
A feeling which was quite mutual. ‘Hearts mend.’ Or at least he prayed they did as his had truly been bludgeoned to pulp. The bleak and utter hopelessness of that was killing him. All the despair and pain must have showed on his expression because tears filled her eyes. ‘Oh, Luke...perhaps...’
Not a conversation he could have without disgracing himself by blubbing like a baby at the cruelty of fate and the feckless woman who had destroyed him. In case he did, he made sure he was stalking towards the door before he risked answering. ‘There is no perhaps, Mother. She let me down. I cannot forgive that.’ Before the door slammed decisively behind him, his mother couldn’t let it lie.
‘I let you down for years, Luke—and you forgave me. And we both know I treated you far worse.’
* * *
Most of the interminable carriage ride to Bath went past in a blur of abject misery, not helped by the fact Hope had had to take it all alone. At the last minute, Mr Kemble decided he needed Charity to help him choose a fitting Figaro to play opposite her. He wanted a youngish tenor with whom she had chemistry and said he wouldn’t be able to gauge that unless she was there to sing and act beside him. Ergo, despite her sister’s loud objections and genuine concern, Hope was visiting Faith alone with only their trusty coachman Evan for company. His wife, their maid Lily, and Charity would join them both later once her perfect Figaro was found.
It was probably just as well.
Had her sister been with her she would have been dreadful company, her mood veering dangerously between utterly bereft and so furious her blood was literally boiling, while she tried to comprehend how Luke could have come to the conclusion that the only person who could have passed on the story was her.
Not that he’d had the decency to say as much to her face. Instead, he had hightailed it back to Tregally as soon as the morning paper had been delivered and accused her of the awful crime in a letter which five days on she still couldn’t quite believe as he had spewed such venom.
Three words was all he thought she warranted after the night they had spent together. Three words which he had clearly written in a hurry before he thrust the missive at Charity then rode out of Bedford Place moments later. Three paltry words was all it took to completely split her heart in two.
How could you?
Not Did you?
Not Can you think who?
Not even a wounded Why did you?
In his stubborn, stupid, big cloddish Cornish head, she was automatically guilty before he had even considered any other possible explanation and she was still reeling at the staggering speed at which he had come to that conclusion. Almost as if all the promises they had made to each other suddenly meant nothing and neither did she.
The carriage slowed as it turned into a short drive and she spied her sister and Piers waiting at the end of it. Faith was grinning from ear to ear as her husband helped Hope down and hugged her tight. Then she frowned at the distinct lack of Charity.
‘Is it just you?’
‘Only until Charity is free.’ There was no point in delaying the big announcement. ‘She’s been given one of the lead soprano roles in The Marriage of Figaro at Covent Garden. It will open in January.’ Hope tried to inject as much excitement into her sister’s brilliant achievement as she could as they walked into the house, understanding that Faith needed to hear it properly and Charity deserved the credit too. They were settled in a sunny parlour awaiting tea by the time she finished.
‘Why that is marvellous! I am so happy for her!’ And by the delighted look on her face, Faith was more than just happy at Charity’s success. There was something different about her. A radiance and vitality which she assumed was everything to do with Piers and her new-found happiness with him, and which she might well have glowed with herself less than a week ago when everything about her future had seemed rosy. ‘What else have I missed? As much as I have adored honeymooning all summer, I’ve missed you all horrendously. I don’t think our family have ever been apart for this long before.’
‘Well... I got a publisher for my book.’ How hollow that all felt now despite the beaming smile she forced. ‘Cooper and Son’s bought it, so I will finally be in Hatchard’s in the New Year. January as well, so that will be quite the month, what with Charity’s opening.’
/> ‘Oh, Hope!’
Faith jumped up and bounded over, hugging her again, her usually slender waist considerably fuller than normal. ‘That is the best news of all! Though I never doubted you could do it. You have always been so driven—I suppose all three of us follow Mama and Papa for that—but I always envied you your single-minded determination and confidence in your own abilities.’ Clearly Hope’s veil of bravado was supremely convincing if her most similar sibling hadn’t spotted all the raging uncertainties swirling beneath the surface.
As she stepped back, a surprisingly stiff summer breeze through the open windows plastered the bold yellow muslin to her eldest sister’s body and her hand instinctively went to her stomach as Hope’s eyes dropped there. Then she beamed again, her gaze immediately going to her husband and the pair of them shared such a look of overwhelming affection the intensity of it actually hurt. The wave of longing for Luke suddenly so intense her chest ached.
‘As you can probably see, Piers and I have some news too.’ Faith smoothed her dress tight and the tell-tale shape of her bump was unmistakable.
‘You’re pregnant!’ Another pang of emotion floored her. Not just the overwhelming happiness for her sister, but a deep well of sadness for herself, mourning the sudden loss of something she hadn’t realised she wanted but which had been torn away when Luke had left her.
‘I am. Very. I’ve been holding out to tell you all in the flesh, Piers’s family too. So please don’t write to Mama and Papa about it till we all head back to London at the end of the month. I want to see their faces when they realise they will be grandparents.’
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