Degrees of Hope (11 page)

“How would you know?” Hope asked, her anger rising with each foolish statement he made. “Have you ever been married?”

James stiffened his back at that remark. “Of course not.”

“Then why do you believe that you can speak of something you have no knowledge of?”

“Because I know my sister!”

“Do you? Do you really? Then how come you cannot see that she isn't just taking time to adjust, she is thoroughly miserable, despairing even. That poor girl is in dreadful pain and you, her supposedly loving brother, cannot even see it!”

James was shocked by her words and looked into the orangery, where his sister and Martha were still chatting. They noticed him looking and smiled at him.

“I think I know my own sister,” he said, although he didn't sound very certain.

“I must disagree.”

“So that is why you are refusing me?” he asked, turning to her. He looked to be in pain.

Hope sighed, “I am refusing you because the truth is, whilst you are a learned man, in so many ways, you are ignorant.”

“Right.” He straightened his back and swallowed. “If it's all right with you, I believe I shall look around the gardens alone for a little longer. Good day, Lady Beaumont.”

He strode away from her and Hope was left feeling as though she were floundering. She turned and headed slowly back towards the orangery door.

'
Where had that come from?
' she wondered. She had seen no sign that he might like her romantically. Then again, perhaps he didn't love her; she had noticed him looking around the house covetously at times, and she was considered a very good catch for her fortune alone. Then again, he had looked genuinely hurt when she refused him.

How could he misread her so badly? She had been making an effort to be friendly, it was true, but nothing more.

“Are you all right, darling?” Martha asked as Hope approached them.

“No,” Hope said honestly. “I feel a little unwell, I think I will go and have a lie down, if that's all right.”

Martha knew Hope well enough to realise that there was more to the story, but she would go and see her privately once their guests were gone.

“Of course,” Martha kissed Hope's cheek and smiled warmly at her, silently trying to tell her that everything would be all right. Hope smiled back, although it was a pale reflection of her usual smile.

“I do hope you feel better soon,” Honoria said with sincerity.

“Thank you. MacDuff, come,” Hope called her dog and he happily trotted after her.

Martha sat back down with their guest, and wondered exactly what had happened between Hope and James. She could still see James wandering around outside and he too didn't look very happy.

James came back inside after another twenty minutes or so and sensing his distress, though he did his best to hide it, Honoria got ready to leave.

Martha wasn't upset by the early departure, since she wanted to go and see Hope. When she was able, she found Hope in her bedroom, curled on her bed with MacDuff lying beside her.

“Off,” Hope told MacDuff, knowing that the dog wasn't allowed on furniture. Martha sat on the bed and Hope pulled herself into a sitting position.

“What's wrong, darling?” Martha asked, although she had her suspicions.

“He tried to propose,” Hope admitted.

Martha had noticed the appreciative glances that James had been giving Hope, so she wasn't completely surprised by this turn of events. The idea that he obviously didn't have any clue how Hope felt about him though, didn't speak well for him.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Martha pulled Hope into her arms and held her tightly. “I'm so sorry.”

You might think that most girls would be flattered by a marriage proposal, even if they turned it down, but Hope wasn't most girls and she hated having to refuse a gentleman and hurting their feelings. That far outweighed any flattery she felt from the offers.

When Hope pulled away from her mother though, she looked more downcast than usual.

“What is it?” Martha asked.

Hope glanced at her mother only briefly, then lowered her head again.

“I think I broke a confidence,” she confessed.

Martha didn't press her, just took hold of her hand and waited for her to continue.

“I thought that he wanted to talk to me about Honoria, that maybe he had realised what Malcolm was doing to her, but when it became clear that he was still clueless...”

“You told him?” Martha guessed.

“Not exactly. Not explicitly. I told him that he was blind to his sister's pain.”

Martha took a deep breath.

“I think that is understandable,” Martha assured her daughter.

“She'll be upset with me,” Hope assured her mother. “I promised that I wouldn't say anything to James about what Malcolm was doing to her.”

“But you didn't say anything about that, did you?”

Hope shook her head.

“Even your father and I can see the pain Honoria is in, so I see no harm in pointing out something that is obvious to most. Honoria will understand that you weren't trying to be hurtful.”

“I hope so,” Hope threw herself down on the bed again and began to cry. “Everything is such a mess.”

Chapter Eleven

James and Honoria's carriage ride home was mostly silent. Honoria tried asking what was the matter, but he assured her that there was nothing wrong. She didn't believe him but she let the matter drop.

Once they arrived home, James practically sprinted from the carriage, leaving Honoria to follow in his wake. He was angry about something but it was more than that. When James usually got angry, he began long, ranting speeches about what had upset him. She had never known him to seethe in silence before. Plus, an unusual look crossed his face sometimes, almost as though he was confused about something.

Honoria went into her sitting room when they got back and James headed upstairs to his room.

He paced the length of the bedroom for a long time, replaying his confrontation with Hope and trying to make sense of what she had said earlier.

As he began to calm down, he began to see that Hope was right about his sister, she wasn't the same girl that he used to know. He had found excuses to explain her change of behaviour but in doing that, he had been ignoring the change.

He made his was downstairs and to Honoria's sitting room, where he knew that she would be at this time of the day. She smiled as he came in.

“I'm sorry if I was a little out of sorts earlier, my dear.”

“That's quite all right.” She wouldn't ask again what had upset him.

James sat in the armchair beside Honoria and looked closely at his sister as she worked on a piece of embroidery.

“Are you happy?” James asked, seemingly out of the blue.

“Happy?” she sounded confused by the question.

“Yes, with your life, with your marriage?”

“Of course,” she smiled as serenely as she could. “Whatever would make you ask such a thing?”

“You don't seem very happy,” he admitted.

“James, I am fine, honestly.”

James considered his response before replying.

“Is Malcolm good to you?”

“Whatever would make you ask that?” As she looked up at James, he thought that she looked rather like a frightened animal.

“You used to write and tell me that you were having problems, remember?”

Honoria did remember, and she also remembered his repeated replies, saying that she must try harder to be a good wife.

“I was just having trouble adjusting, that is all.” She returned her attention to her sewing, afraid that he would see the lie in her eyes.

James learned forward and took the embroidery from her.

“Look at me,” he demanded, and she obeyed. “What causes the sadness and fear that I can see in your eyes?”

Honoria wanted to tell him to go to Hell, to leave her alone, to stop asking questions, but she wasn't brave enough to do that. She felt unable to look away from his penetrating gaze and to her horror, found herself confessing the truth, or part of it at least.

“Malcolm,” she began, haltingly. “He... well sometimes... he has a temper and... it scares me.”

James sighed with relief. He had been fearing so much worse, that perhaps Malcolm was having affairs and being indiscreet about it or heaven forbid, perhaps Honoria had caught something from him.

James reached out and took his sisters hand, squeezing it gently.

“Don't worry, I'll take care of it for you.”

Honoria's eyes widened in fear. “No, you-”

“Hush, dearest, you have nothing to worry about.”

Honoria nodded and did her best to smile, but inside all she felt was dread. She had said too much, she should have held her tongue, Malcolm wouldn't like her speaking about their marriage to anyone, even her brother.

Her stomach was tied up in such knots for the next few days, that she was unable to even eat much of anything.

Martha hated saying goodbye to her boys, but there was no avoiding it. She hugged them tightly and kissed each boy, making them promise to write every week. The boys were used to her affection and now that her displays weren't in front of the school gates, they accepted it with reasonable equanimity.

Lucien kissed his wife goodbye, as Hope and Charity said goodbye to their brothers, then all three men climbed into the carriage. Lucien would still have plenty of time to say his goodbyes to his sons.

Martha and Hope watched until the carriage was out of sight, then Hope led her mother inside and Charity trailed behind them.

“They will be back before you know it,” Hope assured her mother. “Summer is not so very far off now.”

“No.” Martha took a deep breath and tried to calm down. She was sure that true noblewomen didn't get this upset about their sons returning to boarding school, but then many didn't seem to pay their children much mind at all, really.

Both Martha and Hope had been getting behind with their work and so to avoid dwelling on an unhappy subject too much, they both threw themselves into designing.

Lucien was used to that behaviour in Martha, but he was unaccustomed to seeing Hope behaving the same way. Martha explained what had happened with James and he decided to simply keep away from that subject.

In the past, some gentlemen had come directly to him asking for Hope's hand and in many ways, that was much easier for all involved. Lucien would tell the gentleman that he would have to think about it, then he would talk to Hope and see what she thought and, so far, go back to the men and tell him that his decision was 'no'. He never told them that Hope had said 'no', only that he was forbidding the match.

The gentleman then suffered no embarrassment around Hope, nor she around them. Sometimes the man might avoid Lucien for a time, but that didn't normally last very long. For some reason, it was easier to forgive another man wounding one's pride than a woman, especially if the woman in question was the object of your affection.

Some of his peers thought it strange that he 'allowed' his daughter to remain single for so long, but there was a part of Lucien that didn't want her to marry. He wouldn't stand in her way, of course but at the moment he was the most important man in her life and wasn't looking forward to being relegated to second place.

Lucien had also been spending more time away from work whilst his boys were home, and so he too found that he had more than enough to keep him occupied.

As such, no one noticed that they had not seen nor heard from Honoria in three weeks.

When news reached them that Honoria had suffered a miscarriage, just days after James had left, they all felt awful.

It was Mrs Lassiter who told Martha, having heard it from the butcher's wife in town that morning. Martha had to ask the housekeeper why it had taken so long to hear the news. Gossip usually spread like wildfire.

“I can't say for sure,” Mrs Lassiter answered, “but it seems that she has been on complete bed rest since it happened. Why, only the housekeeper had a key to her room, and even she did not know what was wrong with her mistress.”

“How is that possible?” Martha asked. Keeping information from one's servants was a hard thing to do as they were such an integral part of the family's life.

“I can't say,” Mrs Lassiter continued. “I was told that Mr Arundell had been in a frightful mood though, so I dare day that they have not felt free to ask too many questions.”

Martha wondered if the key the housekeeper had was to let her in to Honoria's bedroom, or to keep Honoria locked in.

“Did you hear anything else?” Martha asked.

“Well, the servants say that Mr Arundell has lifted some of the restrictions on them now and Mrs Arundell is leaving her room sometimes.”

“Thank you, Mrs Lassiter.”

Martha went straight to Hope and told her what she knew, Hope wrote a note immediately and sent it over to the house. She had a reply within an hour, saying that Honoria would be happy to see them for afternoon tea but the note was perfunctory and impersonal, not at all like the notes Honoria usually sent.