Hope

by Lesley Pearse

  He asked her a great many questions, about both Anne and Hope. Nell thought he was never going to get to the end of them. She was so tired, it had seemed an interminable day, and all she wanted was her bed.

  ‘And how did Hope feel when she was told the man she’d always called Father wasn’t her real one, or that you aren’t even her sister?’ he said finally. ‘It is no wonder she came close to losing her mind!’

  ‘You will have to ask her that yourself, sir,’ Nell said wearily. ‘She hasn’t said much about it to me. But I do know she is very fond of you.’

  ‘She saved my life in Balaclava,’ he said with feeling. ‘I have seen men die from far lesser wounds than I had. She has a healing touch. One of the other officers asked me soon after that if she was a relative of mine as he thought we were very alike.’

  ‘You are alike, sir.’ Nell nodded. ‘The first time I met you I knew you were her father, just by your looks. I wondered that her ladyship didn’t see it.’

  ‘Mostly we only see things we want to see,’ he replied, and smiled. ‘And I see you are tired, Nell. Go to bed now.’

  Angus stared pensively into the fire for over an hour after Nell had gone to bed, his thoughts bittersweet. Anne’s death was sad, but not entirely unexpected, for when he’d seen her at William’s funeral she had looked old and seemed confused, and he’d heard later that her health had deteriorated still further.

  There was no point in being angry that she had kept the birth of their child from him; he had, after all, always known that position and wealth meant more to her than love. But he found it hard to forgive her for not coming to him when she discovered that Hope was that child. Surely she must have known that he would have moved heaven and earth to find her?

  Yet clearly it was written in the stars that he was intended to have Hope in his life, even if the path to that end was circuitous. When he met Nell by pure chance that day by the mill, he offered her the position of housekeeper more from sympathy than real need for help in his home. Yet it was one of the best decisions he’d ever made, for Nell had become a valued friend, and she’d created a stable, comfortable home, which was something he’d never had before.

  When he discovered that the pretty surgeon’s wife who had been attacked in Varna was none other than her missing sister, he sawit as the most remarkable stroke of good fortune, a way of repaying Nell for all she’d done for him. Yet she was his daughter!

  Looking back, and setting aside the connection with Nell, there was something about Hope which had drawn him to her right from the start.

  He had, of course, thought it was only because of her sultry eyes, dark curly hair and her sweet face. In fact, he’d pulled himself up from thinking about her too often by reminding himself he was old enough to be her father.

  Thankfully his feelings for her had never been ones of desire, but admiration at her courage, stoicism and nursing skills. Later, after she had stitched his wounds, there was deep gratitude, and amusement too because she was such a little firebrand.

  Yet as time went on and he got to know both her and Bennett very well, he’d been stirred by what he could only call paternal feelings towards her. He felt real affection, he worried about her health when he knew she was carrying a child. When she left Balaclava he had felt emotional and even bereft.

  It was that which had made him search for Bennett; and through the difficulties, he had urged himself on, going that extra mile for her. On the voyage home he felt so proud of himself for bringing her husband back to her. He had in fact been as excited at the prospect of seeing her again as Bennett was.

  And now he’d been told she was his flesh and blood, that her baby was his grandchild. And that was like being presented with the sun, the moon and the stars.

  *

  ‘She’s beautiful,’ Angus said gruffly, looking down at Betsy in her mother’s arms. ‘A father and a grandfather in one day! That’s enough to make even an old soldier cry.’

  It was ten in the morning. Bennett was still in bed, Nell in the kitchen and Hope had come into his study with Betsy in her arms so he could see her.

  ‘Nell told you everything, then?’ Hope asked.

  Angus nodded, and quickly wiped a tear from his cheek.

  ‘There’s so much to say, but I don’t know howto say it,’ he said. ‘I lay awake most of the night thinking on it. I thought I had it all straight in my head, but now I’m looking at Betsy…’ He stopped, fresh tears filling his eyes as he let the baby grasp one of his fingers.

  ‘We don’t need words surely?’ Hope said, looking up at him with tears in her eyes too. ‘We were friends from the first, weren’t we? Through you, Nell and I were reunited, and you made the Crimea a better place for me and Bennett by just being there. Then you rescued Bennett for me. So if it was some kind of apology you were trying to make, don’t.’

  ‘It wasn’t an apology I wanted to make,’ he said, reaching out to touch her cheek with tenderness. ‘It was more of a joyful outpouring of my delight. I am of course horrified and ashamed that I had no part in your childhood, for had I known of your birth I would have taken you and brought you up as my daughter, regardless of how others viewed that.’

  ‘Then perhaps it was as well you never knew about me,’ Hope said, and took the hand caressing her cheek and kissed it. ‘You would have been away soldiering and I would have been left with nursemaids who might not have been as loving as Meg Renton and Nell were.’

  ‘Always so practical and level-headed!’ He nodded. ‘But my dear girl, you have been through so much since Betsy was born, far too much, and we must be sure there is no repetition of what occurred last night.’

  A cloud passed over her face. ‘I don’t know what possessed me,’ she said, dropping her eyes shamefacedly.

  ‘The human mind can only take so much,’ he said gently. ‘I have seen many men become irrational after battles and hardship, I suspect it is nature’s way of demanding that they allowthemselves to rest. But Bennett is back safe and sound, and I hope you will let me take care of my family now?’

  ‘Your family?’ she repeated, looking up at him in wonder. ‘That sounds so lovely.’

  Angus put his arms around both mother and child and drew them to his chest.

  ‘It sounds lovely to me too,’ he said softly, his voice breaking with emotion. ‘I’ve never had a family, I was always the cuckoo in someone else’s nest. But the extraordinary thing is that if I could have handpicked the people I wanted in my family, you are all the very ones I would have selected. And with young Betsy, I will be able to give her the love and attention I never got the chance to give you. I think that makes me the luckiest man alive.’

  Christmas, something Nell and Hope had barely thought about until the men came home, was suddenly only a week away and each day was full of frantic preparations. Bennett was still too weak to do more than play with his daughter as the women made pies and puddings and cleaned silver around him. Angus chopped wood, brought in huge bunches of holly and ivy, and went off to the market in Bristol. He brought home not just provisions, but a horse to pull the trap which had languished in one of the sheds since he’d been away.

  Willow End was full of chatter and laughter. There were so many stories to share, lengthy discussions on past events, and what they would like for the future, but every now and then all four adults would sit around the kitchen table, just beaming at one another in their delight that they were all together again at last.

  How much, or how little, they were going to tell the rest of the family about Hope and Angus when they arrived for Boxing Day was a source of endless debate. It was Angus who finally suggested they should wait until Christmas Day in the company of Rufus, Uncle Abel and Alice and make the decision then, with them.

  At five in the afternoon on Christmas Day it was already dark outside, but the dining room at Willow End was ablaze with light from two dozen candles and a roaring fire. The ceiling beams were decorated with garlands of holly, ivy and red ribbon, and the re
d tablecloth was barely visible beneath the wealth of glasses, plates and silver tureens. The goose was a mere skeleton now, the vegetable tureens empty. Everyone had agreed they’d need a rest before they could possibly manage plum pudding.

  ‘I had dreamed of a Christmas like this for years,’ Bennett said reflectively. ‘But I never thought it would come true.’

  He looked around the table, aglow with wonder that he’d survived to be here today with all the people he loved: Hope in a red dress on his right, her dark curls shining like ebony in the candlelight; Nell wearing pale blue came next, followed by Uncle Abel, Alice and finally Rufus. Not forgetting Betsy, who lay gurgling in her crib by the window.

  For Bennett, past Christmases had been mostly rather dismal affairs, usually spent with people he didn’t much care for, or barely knew. Even the ones spent with Uncle Abel had not been happy because of their often strained relationship.

  But everything had come right at last. Abel had grown very fond of Hope, and he was clearly proud of his nephew now. Alice had always shown Bennett a great deal of affection, but she was positively radiant now that she could do this openly, and lavish attention on Hope and Betsy too.

  Nell was just as Hope had described her, placid, kind and motherly, yet she was not dull as Bennett had feared, she laughed a great deal, she could be very funny, and when riled she didn’t mince her words. He thought she was perhaps the most ideal of sisters-in-law.

  When Bennett looked at Angus, his heart swelled up with gratitude. He’d admired the dashing Captain right from the start because he wasn’t one of the usual weak-chinned, aristocratic, brainless oafs who bought their commissions in the cavalry because they wanted to parade around in a flashy uniform. Angus’s courage was unquestionable, but it was his humanity that had touched Bennett. Many of his troopers had recounted how he’d given them food, clothing and blankets during the last winter; he’d visited them when they were sick and wounded; he wrote letters home for them.

  Yet it was Angus coming to search for him in Scutari that made him love the man. He would never forget the moment when he opened his eyes to see Angus in his blue and gold coat and cherry-red breeches grinning down at him. The fever ward was the grimmest one of all, a dark, stinking room in a basement that was overrun with vermin, but Angus had brought light and fresh air in with him.

  ‘You can’t skulk down here,’ he’d said. ‘Hope needs you at home. So up you come, my lad.’

  He had lifted him out of that bed and slung him over his shoulder, and sick as Bennett was at that moment, somehow he knew that Angus’s will to get him home was too strong to allow him to die.

  Angus would never relate to anyone that he had washed and fed him like a baby for days until Bennett could manage it for himself. Like all true heroes, he didn’t find it necessary to talk about his deeds. Yet back in Scutari he’d known just what to talk about to get Bennett to rally round.

  He had described this very room in detail, even down to the chintz curtains Nell had made and the rosewood of the table. He’d said they would be round it for Christmas, and that the goose would come from Matt’s farm. He’d described Nell’s cooking until Bennett’s mouth was watering, and reminded him that Hope would be sitting next to him, prettier than a rose in full bloom.

  Now that Bennett knew Angus was Hope’s father, he wondered why he hadn’t suspected it long ago for they were incredibly alike. Not just their identical dark eyes, but the shared courage, loyalty and dogged determination. What could be sweeter than having a father-in-law who had already proved himself to be the best and truest friend?

  As for the seventh person at the table, Hope had told him so much about her childhood friend in the past that, coupled with what he knew of the behaviour of both his parents, Bennett had been expecting a real milksop. But here was another surprise, for Rufus wasn’t weak in any way. He was as tough and hardworking as Matt Renton, quick-witted, big-hearted, with a fine social conscience and entertaining too. Bennett had never much liked the sound of Lady Harvey, but he had to admit she must have had some good qualities to produce two such outstanding offspring.

  ‘You’ll never have a lonely Christmas again, not with our family,’ Nell said, interrupting his reverie. ‘But in a few years’ time you might be wishing for a quieter one.’

  ‘I propose a toast to many more happy occasions like this one,’ Angus said, raising his glass of wine.

  ‘To many more!’ everyone said as they clinked their glasses.

  ‘Next year Betsy might be walking,’ Hope said, glancing over to the crib in the corner where she was lying awake, waving her hands. ‘Then there won’t be peace for any of us.’

  Bennett squeezed her hand under the table for he was delighted to see her fully recovered. She was too embarrassed to discuss what had ailed her the night he came home; all she would say was that she was afraid she’d never see him again. Clearly it had been a whole raft of things, shock, fear and anxiety, but whatever the cause, she was her old self again now.

  ‘Remember last Christmas?’ Hope said, addressing Bennett and Angus.

  ‘I think I had a scrawny bit of chicken with a lump of bread.’ Angus laughed. ‘Howabout you?’

  ‘I don’t remember eating anything,’ Bennett said. ‘But the jollifications on the quay on Christmas Eve were memorable, if only because I couldn’t get my wife out of other men’s arms.’

  ‘I was only dancing with them,’ Hope pointed out, looking round at the rest of the company. ‘Bennett always likes to make out he was so hard done by that night, but as I recall he drank a whole bottle of rum.’

  ‘You three talk about the war as if it were a jolly picnic,’ Rufus remarked. ‘I can’t pin any of you down to tell me what it was really like. Angus and Bennett haven’t even said anything about the nurse Florence Nightingale, yet the newspapers are full of her heroics.’

  ‘Maybe that’s just because we are a little weary of the public’s adulation being centred on her,’ Angus retorted. ‘We sawsoldiers’ wives risking their lives on the battlefields to help the wounded. They, Hope and doctors like Bennett were there from the start of the war, doing what they could without medical supplies or any facilities, hamstrung by governmental bungling. Miss Nightingale is undoubtedly a good woman – she brought about better conditions in the hospital at Scutari, and I’m sure she has turned the tide so that nursing will from here on in be seen as a noble profession. But those of us who were at the sharp end of the action would rather like to see less illustrious people honoured for their courage and self-sacrifice. They gave everything they had for their country and their fellow man. Of those who have survived, many will come back here with missing limbs to find their wives and children in the workhouse. That is where many of those brave men will end their days too. But Miss Nightingale won’t share that indignity.’

  Hope shared Angus’s views and she knew Bennett did too, but this wasn’t the appropriate time for airing them.

  ‘Come now, Angus,’ she wheedled, giving him an arched look. ‘As Nell would say, “That’s not a suitable subject for the dinner table.” ’

  ‘It certainly isn’t,’ Nell said indignantly. ‘Conversation at the table should be light and frothy.’

  Rufus snorted with laughter. ‘Hark at you, Nell! I bet if you said that down at Matt’s they’d fall off their chairs with laughter. They talk about butchering pigs and castrating bullocks at the table.’

  Hope smiled. ‘What about you, Uncle Abel? What do you talk about?’

  ‘He’s been known to discuss the contents of someone’s stomach after he’s done a post-mortem,’ Alice said impishly. ‘At one dinner party one of his guests came running out as green as grass!’

  Abel looked faintly embarrassed. ‘That was unfortunate but I was under the impression he was a doctor too.’

  ‘I count myself rebuked.’ Angus smiled at Nell. ‘War, medical matters, religion and politics are best avoided at dinner.’

  ‘That’s good for me as I knowvery little abo
ut any of those subjects,’ Rufus said lightly.

  ‘You’d better brush up on religion if you are going to marry the rector’s daughter,’ Hope retorted. ‘And when is it going to be?’

  ‘Well, that brings us back to the ticklish subject of blood ties,’ Rufus said, suddenly looking more serious. ‘Before I ask Lily to marry me we have to decide whether I should tell her that Hope’s my sister.’

  Before dinner they had informed Uncle Abel and Alice about the recent developments. Both had been so astounded they said they needed time to think about it before they could comment. But Hope had sensed Abel much preferred the idea of her being the love child of aristocrats than the legitimate child of peasants.

  ‘If you do tell her, we’ll also have to tell Matt and the rest of the family,’ Nell said, looking worried.

  In the discussions before Christmas they had all felt that the ultimate decision about this had to be made by Rufus, as he was the one most likely to be affected by the scandal.

  Angus pointed this out to him. ‘Much as I’d like to acknowledge Hope as my daughter,’ he said, ‘I do not wish to tarnish your mother’s name.’

  ‘Does that matter now she’s no longer with us?’ Rufus shrugged. ‘I would gain a sister, a niece and a brother-in-law, all of whom are important to me, and are likely to be important to my future children too. Hope would gain a father.’

  ‘But Hope would lose the whole Renton family she’s grown up with,’ Uncle Abel said, just a little too eagerly.

  ‘No she wouldn’t,’ Nell said indignantly. ‘They aren’t going to feel any different towards her. To us she’ll always be our sister.’

  ‘What do you think, Bennett?’ Rufus asked.

  ‘Well, it seems to me that we’ve already seen what misery secrets can inflict,’ he said. ‘If you were to go ahead and marry Lily without telling her, it could very well erupt later, Rufus. But more importantly than any scandal that might ensue, Lily is going to be hurt you didn’t confide in her.’