Degrees of Hope (3 page)

The outerwear business on the other hand, was started as a partnership between Martha and Lucien, although upon their marriage, it legally became Lucien's in its entirety.

Lucien still discussed most matters with his wife though, not because he had to but because he valued her opinion. Any major decisions on the gloves he discussed with both Hope and Martha, since they were majority owners.

Mostly they were content to design the gloves and outerwear and happy to leave the day to day running of the business to him, as they trusted his business sense. Still, it wasn't unusual for business to become a topic of discussion over dinner, so both women were reasonably well informed, although Martha took a greater interest than Hope.

“Not wholly,” Martha agreed with Honoria. “I leave the running of the company to my husband, but he does like to talk matters through with me. I think it helps him to organise his own thoughts.”

Honoria looked astounded. 

“Malcolm doesn't discuss business with you?” Hope asked.

“No, although I confess,” her voice lowered conspiratorially. “I do often read his daily paper once he has left for work. I know that it is frightfully unladylike, but I am interested in the world. Please do not tell him; he disapproves of such behaviour in women.”

“Your secret is safe with us,” Martha assured her with a warm smile.

They chatted amiably for a while longer until the men joined them and soon afterwards, Martha and Lucien excused themselves to prepare for bed. Many of the aristocracy didn't retire until the early hours of the morning but Lucien had businesses to run, which required an early start. Malcolm seemed happy to retire then also and as they all headed upstairs, Hope noticed that Malcolm and Honoria each went into their own bedrooms, without even a kiss goodnight.

She frowned as she entered her own room, and wondered what it must be like to be a part of such a loveless marriage. Separate bedrooms were normal among the upper classes and even Hope's parents had their own rooms, however Hope couldn't remember her father sleeping in his bedroom since Charity was born. In fact, he only seemed to use it for housing his clothes and for dressing.

Even when her parents disagreed, which wasn't that unusual, they still shared a bed at night.

Hope's lady's maid came in to help her disrobe and take her hair down, and she chattered away about this and that. Hope usually enjoyed listening to the gossip from the servant's hall but this evening she was distracted. As she settled under her covers, she suspected that she would have a restless night ahead of her, and she was right. 

Over the next two nights, after they had retired to bed, Martha and Lucien repeatedly returned to the topic of whether to allow Malcolm to buy the land he wanted.

Lucien was opposed to the idea as the longer he spent in Malcolm's company, the less he was inclined to like him but Martha pushed him to accept, as she felt rather protective of Honoria.

“I'm not sure I can stand to live next to such a man,” Lucien said on the second evening of discussions. “And don't forget, we will be required to socialise with them.”

“Only occasionally,” Martha argued. “He works away during the week, and we won't be socialising every weekend. Besides, there are already a number of people in our group that you find distasteful, what is one more?”

“You make me sound like a curmudgeon,” he said. “There are a few people of our acquaintance that I dislike, I admit it, but that is hardly 'a number'.”

“You are right, I'm sorry.” Martha smiled. She had been lying with her head on his shoulder, but she pulled away and propped her head up on her hand so that she could see his face.

“What?” he asked, noting her troubled expression.

“I just feel bad for Honoria,” she admitted. “Her father arranged this marriage and I think that she is desperately unhappy.”

“And you think that living here will make her happy?” he asked, confused by her argument.

“No,” she admitted. “I do however, think that Malcolm's plan in bringing her here to live, is to isolate her from her friends and family. I cannot help but think that if they are on the estate, Honoria will at least have someone sympathetic nearby, and possibly even a friend in Hope.”

Lucien still wasn't inclined to agree to the sale, but he could see her point.

“Do we really want to get involved in their marriage?” he asked.

“We aren't getting involved,” she assured him. “I just want Honoria to know that she has friends around her.”

“And what if she comes to us, asking us to help her?”

“Then we help.”

“We don't have that right,” he said. “A marriage is between a man and a woman. Even if we wanted to, we have no right to intervene.”

“Perhaps not legally, but morally we do.”

Lucien just glared at her, upset at the idea of being embroiled in a fight that wasn't his.

“Darling,” Martha said, leaning down to kiss him gently. “The chances are that we will never be asked to become involved, Honoria is far too dutiful to ever consider leaving her husband, but we can still be a friend to her. And you never know, there is a chance that her quiet ways may rub off on Hope and help to calm her.”

“We couldn't be that lucky,” Lucien smiled.

Martha knew that she was winning, and played her trump card. “Please, for me?”

Lucien sighed, knowing that he had lost this round. “Fine. Tomorrow I will inform Malcolm of our decision and get started on drawing up the deeds.”

“Thank you.”

“You owe me,” he said, only half teasing.

“And how would you like to be repaid, sir?” she asked, coquettishly.

“I'm sure you'll think of something,” he answered her, a smirk on his lips.

Martha leaned down and kissed him deeply and when she pulled away, they were both breathing heavily.

“How's that?” she asked.

“It's a promising start,” he told her.

Chapter Three

Over the course of the next two weeks, Hope did her best to befriend Honoria; a task that was made considerably easier when her husband left for London during the week to oversee his business interests, returning on Friday night. Honoria remained reserved but she was much easier to talk to without Malcolm around.

As soon as Hope's wrist had healed, she took Honoria all around the estate, showing her the plot of land that her husband was interested in. Hope would have been livid if her husband built a house somewhere, without even showing her the land first, but Honoria simply accepted it.

Overall, Honoria was a very dutiful girl, taking seriously her duty to both her husband and her God and her favourite phrase seemed to be, “It is God's will” or some variation on that theme.

At the same time however, she seemed to find Hope's abandon quite appealing; watching and laughing as Hope jumped gates on her horse that she had been warned not to, or made a very unladylike joke or observation. Whilst Honoria wasn't going to overstep the moral boundaries placed on her, she seemed perfectly happy to live vicariously through Hope.

She smiled freely whilst with Hope, and it made her beauty radiate out from her. So much so that Hope thought it a pity that her husband didn't try to make her smile more often.

As soon as her husband returned, her levity vanished, and she would beg Hope not to speak of their antics in his presence.

On the Thursday afternoon of the second week, just two days before she and her husband were due to leave, Hope and Honoria were having a picnic lunch in the unoccupied paddock.

MacDuff accompanied Hope everywhere she went outdoors, and was at this moment stretched out beside them on the grass, enjoying the sun. Honoria liked the dog and often petted him when her husband wasn't around, but today she had no interest. In fact she seemed very subdued that day and when Hope thought about it, she had been getting quieter all week.

“Is something wrong?” Hope asked.

Honoria looked up at her and smiled sadly. “Not at all, I am just a little sad to be leaving, that's all.”

“But your house will be ready before the end of the year, and then you'll live here most of the time.”

“Yes,” she sighed. “Removed from all my old friends and family. At least in London, I had some friends visiting me during the season, and my brother came see me regularly. Here I shall have no one but you.”

“Then why are you moving up here? Surely there is land closer to London or your family's estate available.”

“There is,” Honoria admitted. She looked down, as though ashamed of what she was about to say. “Malcolm can be very jealous,” she said softly. “Not just of men but of anyone who claims my time. Malcolm says that he wants to live here to get away from the hustle and bustle of city life but the reality is... well, I think he wants me away from the London life. He wants me isolated so that he can have me all to himself.”

“Then he has failed,” Hope said, reaching over and taking Honoria's hand. “No matter what happens, you and I will always be great friends, and I am but a ten minute ride from your new home.”

“I...”

“Yes?”

Honoria glanced up into Hope's eyes then quickly looked away again.

“I am worried that he will forbid me to see you.”

“So? He is in London most of the week; he cannot know what you do.”

“But he can. The servants do as he asks them and they report my movements to him.”

“Well then, I shall just have to be exceedingly nice to him, so that he has no reason to forbid me from seeing you.”

Honoria was silent for a long while before speaking and when she did her voice was barely above a whisper.

“He already disapproves of you. He believes that it is unseemly for a woman, such as yourself, to be independent and still unmarried at almost twenty four.”

“Honoria, look at me,” Hope said, gently squeezing the other woman's hand, silently giving her strength.

Honoria looked into her friend's eyes.

“You will never lose me,” Hope assured her. “Even if he moves you to the Outer Hebrides, all you have to do is write and I will come running.”

“Thank you.”

To Hope's surprise, Honoria began to cry. Hope put her arms around her and held her tightly until her tears subsided.

The Arundell's house was finished by Christmas, and although nothing when compared to Marchwood Hall, it was a fine home. With six bedrooms, a small stable block, a landscaped garden at the rear and with no expense spared, there was no doubting the status of its residents.

Malcolm and Honoria moved in over the Christmas period, and in the New Year their pattern of behaviour began to formulate. Honoria lived full time at the house, whilst Malcolm left for London during the week to manage his businesses, leaving on the Monday morning and returning on the Friday evening.

Honoria quickly made a few friends among Marchwood society, but Malcolm seemed to have little interest. Indeed, they hardly socialised at all on the weekends and it seemed that the only activity that could tempt Malcolm away from his wife, was the shooting parties that Lucien or another local gentleman organised on the weekends.

Sadly he had moved to Marchwood too late to partake in the game shooting for very long, as the law prohibited hunting game birds after the first of February. However hare had no season, so although the hunting parties were less frequent in the spring and summer, there was on average a shooting party at least every other month. 

Malcolm expressed an interest in hunting deer but whilst there were a few on his estate, Lucien didn't cultivate them or hunt them, although he did allow the steward and gamekeeper to cull them when their numbers grew too large.

Lucien thought deer to be a proud animal and disliked killing them, though his excuse to other gentlemen was that there was less skill required to chase a deer to exhaustion and then shoot it whilst it was cornered. Hitting a pheasant, grouse or hare on the other hand, was difficult and much more sportsmanlike.

Since the Marchwood estate was the largest for easily thirty miles and offered the best sport, local gentlemen abided by his likes and dislikes, even when one of them hosted a shooting party. Some of the gentlemen ventured further afield, to other estates in the county where they might hunt big game, but Lucien always declined such invitations if deer were being hunted.

Besides which, deer stalking took place at dawn, whilst game shooting was an all-day activity and therefore, much more sociable. The ladies would congregate by the picnic tables in the garden whilst the men hunted, and then both parties would come together for lunch. Usually that was the end of shooting for the day and the afternoon would be spent eating and drinking, either outside in the sunshine if weather permitted, or in the Beaumont's new orangery if the weather wasn't so kind.

Today was one such day in mid-March, and after the spring showers turned into actual rain, the ladies had decided that the gazebo tents they were sheltering under weren't going to be enough, and they rushed inside.

Hope was giggling as they entered the orangery, having enjoyed the dash through the rain. Some ladies were upset that their gowns or hair had become wet, but most seemed to have enjoyed the excitement.