“Well, I wouldn’t call it settling. I shall still have my freedom, and I will come and go as I please.”
“That won’t do for you, Gil. You wanted a family of your own more than I did…well, before Fanny came back into my life, anyway. Come to think of it…out of all of us, you were always the one keen on taking a wife and starting a family.”
“All I want to do is forget who I was before I entered the Wars. It is true. For a long time, I wanted to be a husband and a father, and now….”
“And now…” Felix urged.
“Now…I want to figure out how to be a proper lord, just as you once did. And I am perfectly happy without having to deal with any…romantic entanglements. A wife is a load of mischief I do not require at this point of my life. I can continue warming my bed with prime articles. I definitely do not need a Xantippe.”
“I don’t know what a bloody Xantippe is…wait, do you mean a shrew?” Felix asked, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t need a shrew of a wife? They aren’t all like that, Lucky. As for being proper lords, we will never be proper lords. Most don’t even think we deserve the honors that have been bestowed upon us—they disdain us, sometimes openly for being so honored. We can only be who we are, and those dearest to us shall either have to take it or leave it. Your future wife has to love you for who you are, who you were, and who you will be. You have always been able to pass yourself off as a man of breeding, a bit easier than me. My mouth gets me into quite a lot of trouble that yours doesn’t. And you have done a bloody good job of masquerading your real accent, and mimicking Clarence’s. My Geordie still slips out every now and then, much as I try to suppress the cheeky devil.”
“That only adds to your charm, Tiny,” Lucky chuckled. “Perhaps, I shall make merry this evening, and have a jolly good time, and if I am truly lucky, there just might be a wench in attendance that shall catch my eye. I shan’t make any promises, but I shall give it a try.”
“I don’t think any of the young gentlewomen that my lady wife has invited could be called wenches.”
“But they are probably country girls, aye?”
“Oh, aye. Just not the kind of wench that you find on King’s Street. These are ladies of breeding, not ladies schooled in the fine art of bedding,” Felix smiled at him wryly.
“Well, I grant you that one,” he chuckled.
“You, do, however, have an advantage over me. You are a far better dancer. I have a tendency to make a right and proper mull of it. I always seem to forget the steps. There are so many dances to remember, and having the Dancing Masters in, haven’t seemed to help me at all, if anything, it has only confused me more.”
Lucky laughed. “Aye. I do not trip over my two gigantic feet. Which one of the eligible ladies has your lovely Countess picked out for me?”
Felix did his best to look innocent. Unfortunately, it wasn’t good enough. The man couldn’t act his way out of a bloody hole. He couldn’t talk himself out of one either. He usually ended up digging the hole deeper for himself and then throwing the dirt back onto himself.
“Tiny, you know that your face and mouth shall always betray you. You know far more than you let on to others. You, sir, are no harlequin.”
“To be sure, I do not know what you refer to. I am a daft bloody arsehole,” he said softly.
“Aye, and I am a bloody bastard,” Lucky said.
“My wife is the clever one. She has decided to invite her cousins to the ball.”
“I wasn’t aware she had any cousins,” he muttered. The idea of leaving Gloucestershire for Wiltshire seemed more appealing to him by the minute. If Felix weren’t here, he would have already been gone.
Wiltshire or London? Both appealed to him for very different reasons. Would the Lovetts be in London right now? Edward Lovett preferred the Country to Town life, but he also had important work that took him to London so they might be there…
“Oh, aye. Through her Aunt Elizabeth. She is one of the Colonel’s many sisters, and she married a gentleman by the name of Cecil Fortescue, 10th Baron Ashburton. He was a gentleman trying to make do with a bankrupted estate, and I hear that his vices for gambling didn’t help that any. He left her and their daughters with nothing to their names. Apparently, the Baroness has a whole gaggle of girls. Hope, Charity, Faith, Grace, Amity and Desdemona, the last two they call Amy and Desi. They didn’t grow up with Fanny. They were raised in Devonshire, and only returned here right before Fanny’s mother passed away. Fanny said she was swallowed up by her grief after her mother passed, to pay them the attention they deserved until now, and she wants to see them have the opportunity to find good husbands.”
“The youngest sister, why is she named Desdemona when the rest of them possess virtuous names?”
“According to Fanny, her aunt was so tired of having girls, she never produced the heir her husband needed, but apparently didn’t care if he got, that she ran out of what she deemed were pretty names, and allowed her husband to name the last one. One of his favorite names was Desdemona. Poor unfortunate child. I pity a girl with a name like that. I expressed my sentiment to Fanny, and she said that Desi was a walking bottle of poison, and that I needn’t feel bad for her.”
“And which one of them has Fanny decided shall set their cap on me? Surely not the poisonous one.”
“I wager not. The poisonous one is far too young. She won’t be sixteen until the spring, and hasn’t officially had her Come Out yet. As for which one my darling wife wants to leg-shackle you to, oh, I don’t know the answer to that ruddy question, Lucky. Why don’t you go and ask her yourself? She only told me that there was still hope for you yet. So, I suppose she means to match you up with the eldest sister, who will go by Miss Fortescue. I haven’t met any of them, so I am in the dark with you. From what Fanny tells me, Hope is painfully shy, and quiet. Her other sisters eclipse her. Fanny wants her to claim a bit of the attention tonight, and she thinks you are just the man that will bring her out of her shell. Hopefully, Miss Fortescue doesn’t favor the Blessing side, eh?” he chuckled.
“With that kind of noble bearing, she could end up being a handsome woman.”
“As long as her nose fits her face,” Felix countered.
“Oh, aye. If it doesn’t…well, poor girl. I would pity a lass with the Blessing nose combined with delicate features.”
“We shall all be together again tonight. And, then, well, you will leave us. I shall be bitterly sorry to see you go, mate. You and I were the last of our lot. We stuck it out together, didn’t we?”
“Yes, that we did,” Lucky said, lost in thought. He wanted desperately to find a woman who would have him for who he was. He wanted someone who would look beyond his handsome visage and love him for his heart and his mind. “I shall ask her for a dance, Felix. Will that please your wife?”
“Aye. That ought to do it. Just keep a watchful eye out for Miss Desi. Apparently, she believes herself to be the prettiest out of the bunch, and she aims a bit too high. So, she will try for you, as I am certain you will be the handsomest man at the ball, and as you are now an earl you will be deemed worthy in her eyes. She has no dowry, of course, the Colonel might decide to provide her with one, but as it stands, she is penniless just like the rest of her sisters. Their father, God rest his soul, left them with nothing to their names. So watch for when she decides to pursue you. From what I gather, she is worse that Miss Duffy used to be. Fanny says that Desi targets Hope maliciously. Fanny believes that she does it out of sheer jealousy.”
“You said that Hope was shy and quiet. What would the little chit be jealous of a timid creature like that for?”
Felix shrugged. “I suppose…well, Fanny told me that Hope is in her estimation, the prettiest sister, and Desi is handsome—not pretty. Fanny says that Hope has a soft enchantment to her that none of the rest possess.”
“Beauty cannot be measured by how we appear on the outside, Felix,” Gil sighed heavily. He was quite sick of everyone measuring him by his looks, rather than a
ttempting to get to know him. He often wondered if some maidens thought he was cold and emotionless, as one of the tarts on King’s Street had told him once that when she’d first caught sight of him, she believed him to be as cold as a winter day. Never knowing the sort of fire that burned within him.
“Tell that to Fanny. I suppose…mayhap, Fanny means that Hope is pretty on the outside and on the inside. I didn’t pursue the subject. I was too enamored with my own darling wife to give a rap about any her cousins.”
“I will hold my judgement. I want to meet them all first and decide for myself which one of them is the fairest of them all. I want to see which one of them has a light inside of their soul. I do not want to leg-shackle myself to a frigid—but beautiful woman.”
Felix snorted. “Good luck. No matter what they look like, they are going to be fawning over you. There is doubt that they shall flock to you. They will probably trip over their dainty little feet in their haste to reach your side. I wager you will be surrounded by them. You shall be lucky if you have a moment alone tonight. Oh, wait, you are lucky, aren’t you?”
“Off with you, Felix,” he chuckled. “I have to finish with this bloody neckcloth and then, I will be down for the ball.”
“Do I have your word?”
“What are you on about?” he asked, fighting back the urge to laugh again at the overly hopeful expression on his friend’s face.
“I don’t want you staying up here and sulking away in your bedchamber. I know you shall be tempted to do so.”
“I do not sulk, Felix,” he said indignantly.
“Brood, then. That’s what Fanny called it. Miss Duffy said you do it well. She said that you…” he cleared his throat nervously. “She said that you look even handsomer when you are brooding, and then her face turned bright vermillion, and she didn’t make a peep for another hour. Cass heard her say it, and he started to pout. He is either going to have to set his cap on Miss Duffy, or sheer off. I don’t think I can put up with the two of you fellows brooding about the place. Although, I could escape it all, couldn’t I? I have a mind to take Fanny someplace for a honeymoon, and get away from all of you brooding bucks. I can only hope that tonight you shall make a selection from all of the lovely young angelics that are coming to the ball. Dance with a few of them, and maybe…just maybe one of them shall catch your interest.”
“Why don’t you take her to Ireland?” Gil asked softly.
“Now, there is a thought,” Felix said. “I was thinking about Brighton or Bath, but maybe Ireland would suit her better. Me Ma has written to say that she will arrive shortly. I don’t know how she will fit in here. She is going to stir things up, in an awful way. I am still rather hesitant to have her here, but Fanny says we need to welcome her with open arms. Problem is, she is bringing my aunts with her, and my aunts—they are like me, they are painfully blunt and don’t bandy about the bush with regard to anything. I fear their mouths…I fear some might not take to their rather large bone boxes, and like me, they usually don’t know when to shut them.”
“She and her sisters will be residing at Heaven Hall, won’t they?”
“I think so. I offered to buy her and the aunts a little place of her own, but Fanny is adamant that she and my aunts remain close to us. I don’t know. I leave all of that up to Fanny. She is the one in charge. I just sit back and adore her.”
Lucky snorted. “I think you do more than that, Felix. You aren’t as daft, nor as helpless, as you like people to think. I do believe that you prefer to play the great big lug, so you won’t have to be bothered with anything that might inconvenience you…so you take the lazy way out.”
“That’s exactly what Colonel Blessing said to me. Now would you fancy that?” He pulled out his pocket watch. “Oi, I have to get going. Fanny wanted me to look at her in her ball gown before we had to go down and play host and hostess.”
“Just make certain she stays in the ball gown, eh, Felix?”
Felix’s blue eyes danced merrily. “I might consider it. I cannot make any promises, mate. You know how I like to enjoy a priceless treasure,” he drawled, winking at him, he left the room.
Lucky sighed, and looked in the mirror. Nothing was amiss. His hair was perfect. His clothes were perfect. He was perfect. Damnation. Why did he have to look like such a bloody dandy?
Chapter Three
Hope sat with her aunts in one of the three carriages departing Elysium Hall bound for Blessing Hall.
A carriage rug was thrown over their legs, and yet, she still felt quite chilly. She ought to have worn a heavier cloak, instead of the one she had picked out.
The only good thing about being alone with her aunts was the absence of Desi, who had ridden with three of her sisters, and Faith, her mother and Peter and had ridden in another carriage. She wondered how Charity, Grace and Amy were faring with Desi.
“Oh, my, Hope, you do look lovely in that color. The young bucks shall think you quite fetching in it,” her Aunt Phoebe said. “You shall command an audience at the ball, mark my words. The hue of your gown is really bringing out the green in your eyes, and your hair, oh, it is so shiny. I do think that it is your crowning glory. It by far is your best feature.”
“Do you really think so?” she asked, placing her hand up to her hair in a self-conscious gesture. “I decided to give it a wash before I dressed. I think it might still be a bit damp, although I did try to dry it by the fire.”
“Oh, dear. You shouldn’t have washed your hair not at this time of the year. Why, you might have caught your death. At the first sign of a sniffle from you, we shall send for the doctor,” her Aunt Priscilla said, clucking her tongue. Her Aunt Priscilla was constantly fretting that someone would catch their death, as she had lost her beau to the same sort of malady back when she had been a young girl. Since then, she took all due precautions to stay healthy.
Back in Devonshire, Hope had run across their country estate barefoot like a wayward fairy, well into the autumn. She had immersed herself in the outdoors, rarely staying cooped up inside for long. She had felt at peace with the ground beneath her feet, the wind whipping through her hair, and nature humming around her. She hadn’t felt that sort of contentment in a long time.
Her father had often laughed and said she was away with the fairies to explain her wild hoydenish behavior. As she had grown into a young woman, she had desperately clung to her wild ways. All of that had come to a resounding halt when her father had abruptly died. No one had thought he would keel over. There was no way they could have predicted it. He had been in perfect health right up to that dreadful moment. He had his many faults, some of which Hope hadn’t been aware of prior to his death, but he had been a good loving father to all of his daughters. He hadn’t disdained having daughters, like some of the men in the ton did. He had openly embraced them all, and to her knowledge, he never berated her mother for failing to produce a male heir. Quite the contrary. He had told her he would take a daughter over a son, and that his cousin could have the estate with his compliments.
No one had known the estate was bankrupted, and had been since her father had inherited it. His attraction to the gaming tables hadn’t helped matters. How he had stretched his monies as far as he had done, she would never know. Her mother had painted him as a blackguard to her Uncle Christian, and Hope couldn’t quite summon the courage to defend her father. He had lost a bit of their wealth through gambling, but he wasn’t as bad as her mother painted him out to be. Hope feared if she did attempt to clarify things to her uncle, he would banish them from Elysium Hall, and then, where would they be?
It was far easier to blame the dead, rather than the living taking responsibility for what they had done. Her mother had constantly nagged her father for money for a new wardrobe for all of them every season. She had spent their money like it would magically replace itself. Hope couldn’t entirely blame her mother—she had been raised in a household where money was never an issue, and so when it was time to be careful about it, she hadn’t
known how.
As rain slashed across the carriage windows, and the wind moaned a mournful lament, her mind drifted back to one particularly stormy night in Devonshire. They had all been unsettled by the thunder, the howling wind, and the streaks of lightning that lit up the night sky like fireworks. Indeed, it sounded as if giants themselves were lumbering across the ground. Her father had laughed and said that the pixies and the fairies were fighting again, and that the giant mercenaries the pixies sometimes employed, were running past the house and shaking the ground. He said not to worry about the giants. If there were giants about, there would also be the large race known as the spriggans who guarded the fairies. He said that some thought the spriggans were the ghosts of giants, but that wasn’t true. Like pixies and fairies, they were two different races.
She sighed. Her memories were making her mawkish. The pain of losing her father shouldn’t still be so fresh. It shouldn’t feel so raw. Five long years had passed, and she could still hear him laughing, and see him as he shared a conspiratorial wink with her.
“A penny for your thoughts, my dear?” Her Aunt Abigail asked, giving her a wistful smile.
Hope smiled back at her, and shook her head. “They probably aren’t worth that much, Aunt Abigail. I was only thinking of my life before we came here. I was thinking of my papa, and the life that could have been, should have been.”
Her Aunt Susanna grunted loudly, and pursed her lips. The shortest and stoutest of her aunts, despite her diminutive size, Susanna had a commanding presence, and the rest of her sisters usually followed her lead. “Best to leave the past where it is, Lovie. Behind us. There is no point in dwelling too much upon it. It is something that cannot be altered. We cannot change what has happened, no matter how much we wish it so. And dwelling needlessly upon it shall only run your health into the ground, and I shall not have it, do you hear?” Susanna nodded her head, in that efficient manner of hers, and turned back to staring out the window as their carriage rattled over the road. Their outrider lit the way, giving them more illumination than the lanterns on the carriage did. They passed through the gates leading into the Estate, and rambled down the long torch lit drive.
His Candlemas Hope Page 2