Hope's Betrayal (9 page)

"So be it.
I see your mind is made up." He paced to the window and peered out.
"It seems the mist is thinning."

"Indeed."

"Then my
duty is discharged and I'd like to catch the falling tide. Miss Tyler, I'd be
grateful if your brother could pilot me out of the shallows."

"Of course,
it's the least we can do."

"Thank
you."

"Father,
where did Tom go?"

"Mending
nets with Vinny, at his yard."

"I won’t be
long."

She slipped from
the room, leaving Huntley feeling as if a piece of him had gone missing. As
soon as the heard the front door open and close, he pulled a chair close to
William Tyler.

"Quick man,
we haven't much time. Answer me truthfully."

"Captain?"
Tyler's rheumy eyes opened wide.

"If Hope
continues to smuggle, it's only a matter of time before she's caught again.
Truly, do you want her to hang?"

"No, of
course not."

"Don't you
see? She feels duty bound to stay. She will never go if she has to make the
decision herself, guilt keeps her here." Huntley sucked in a deep breath.
"I'm sorry, but if you want to save her, you must make her leave."

"I don't
see how."

"Tell her
to go! Order her! Do anything it takes to convince her she's not needed…or
wanted here."

"She can be
very stubborn." Tyler’s brow furrowed. “I’m not sure it will work.”

“It has
to!" Huntley pulled a fistful of coins from his pocket. “Here, call this
an advance on her wages. Ensure Hope comes back with me and there’ll be more.
Use it to buy food, get a woman in to clean the house—but don’t let Hope stay
here and perish.”

Tyler
brightened. “I’ve an idea. How about you give me the money and Hope
stays anyway.”

Huntley glared
at him darkly. “Are you asking for charity, Mr Tyler?”

His host looked
dubious. “Not exactly, but with improved circumstances, Hope will make a good
match and her husband would keep her safe.”

“Marriage?"
Huntley felt a little giddy.

 “Aye. There’s
many a lad hereabouts has their eye on Hope but she lacks a dowry.”

Huntley turned
to the fireplace to hide his disgust. The thought of anyone pawing Hope made
him feel queasy.

“No. Your
daughter earns an honest wage or the deals off.” With a resolution he didn’t
feel, Huntley called Tyler’s bluff. “Make no mistake, it's no odds to me. She
can swing for all I care." He lied, "But make your mind up now—I hear
footsteps, she’s back.”

Hope entered
with a sturdy young man at her side. A head shorter than his sister, Tom
glowered at the visitor. His skin prematurely lined by sun and wind, bags
beneath his eyes and a deep furrow between his eyebrows, he put Huntley in mind
of a bulldog.

“Captain
Huntley, this is my stepbrother Thomas. He will aid you back into open water.”

“Much obliged.”
Huntley glared at Tyler, urging him to speak.

William Tyler
cleared his throat. “An' why would the Captain need Tom, when you can show him
the way yourself?”

Hope’s eyes
narrowed, as she glanced from one man to the other. “I don’t know what’s been
said, but I’m staying here.”

“It came as a
shock, that was all. Now I've had a think, I say you should go.”

“No, Father, you
need me here.”

“An’ I say I
don’t.”

“Not five
minutes since, you wanted me to stay.”

“Well, I've
changed me mind. We’ve managed this past month, haven't we, Tom and I? What
makes you think we won’t manage again?”

"Because,
look at the dust, and the mud in the hall. The garden's a mess and…"

"Hope,
child, I don’t want you here."

Hope grew pale
and she rounded on the Captain. "What have you said? This is your
doing."

Defensively,
Huntley held up his hands. "Listen to your father."

"I've had a
chance to think, and by my reckoning, Lady Ryevale offering you a position is
too good a chance to miss."

"Well, you
might think so but I don’t."

Tyler
floundered so Huntley stepped in.

"An honest
day's work, I thought that's what you wanted? And think, you can send your
wages home."

Hope’s eyes
shone with unnatural brightness. “I see.” She drew herself up straight. “And if
I still say no?”

“Oh, give it up
child. Don’t be so stubborn.” Tyler interjected. “Can’t you see I don’t want
yer here? I was trying to spare your feelings but if you want me to be
blunt—you’re a burden, pure and simple. If you ain’t here then Tom and I will
get along just fine."

"Father!"

Mr Tyler
sneered, "Besides, you never fitted in here, with the airs and graces your
mother gave you. She was just the same. Pretended to fit in but she never did
with her cultured manners and reading. I don’t want pity from you and your
kind. Go! Leave me with me own.”

Hope gasped and
a lone tear trickled down her cheek. “Father! How can you say that?”

“Tis the truth.
Blood will out. Your mother was too good for the likes of me—and so are you.”
He folded his hands across his chest. “Now go, girl, before Captain Huntley
changes his mind about that wage.”

Her mouth worked
but no sound came out. She turned to her brother. “Tom? What do you say?”

With a shrug of
his shoulder Tom looked dubious. “Well, I don’t see what the fuss is about. Got
a chance of a better life. You should take it. I would if it were me. I'll take
care of Father, you know that."

Hope’s large
green eyes stared into her brother’s, and slowly, she nodded.

“If you’re
sure.”

“Do it for me.
Go with my blessing.”

Tom echoed her
nod and stepped away. Huntley felt the pain of separation between them and
guarded his expression. Perhaps he should find a place for the lad as well—he
seemed decent enough. But no, in order to justify Hope’s presence—Huntley
grimaced—he had an interesting time ahead of him.

The group stood
awkwardly in the parlor, neither knowing quite what to do next. Tom took
charge.

"The tide
is on the turn, Father. They best get going."

With a grim nod,
Hope reached to kiss her father's hollow cheek.

“Goodbye,
Father.”

"I'll come
to the jetty with you." Tom said.

"No! Don’t
do that, stay with Father." A tear slid down her cheek.

Huntley turned away,
"I'll wait outside while you say goodbye. Then we best be off." 

Hope watched the
Island grow smaller, the shrinking outline blurred not only by mist, but by
tears. As the distance increased, so the separation grew keener as she left her
late mother's grave and everyone who loved her. Hope blotted her eyes on her
sleeve. Tearing her gaze from the Island, she looked ahead. The mainland filled
her vision now, her future rising up in the wooded hills around Sandehope.

Huntley sat
silhouetted against the landscape, his face rigid and unreadable. Hope shrank
into herself, now was not the time to ask questions. She sat back and let the
waves lull her sadness, thinking back to when, as a baby, she had made the
reverse journey rocked in her mother's arms.The entirety of the journey passed
in silence and when the skiff slipped into its mooring, Huntley jumped ashore.
From the water, staring uphill, The Grange seemed more imposing that she
remembered and Hope trembled.

"Here."
Huntley extended a helping hand. She glanced up; his expression grim with
resolve—and resignation. Something flared inside, for she would not let him be
a martyr because of her.

"If I'm a
burden, it's not too late to go back."

"That night
on the dunes, even then it was too late." For a moment his mask slipped
and she saw such longing—that she felt weak. Hope started to speak, to say that
he was a good man in an impossible situation, she saw that now—but her words
fell on empty air as Huntley strode away.

By the time she
gathered her crutch, the Captain was a distant figure. Out of breath and on a
painful ankle, she followed him to The Grange to find she didn’t know where the
servant's entrance was. As she considered what to do, she was surprised to see
the front door open and Jenkins, peer out.

"Miss
Tyler, this way, if you please."

It was clear
from the butler's expression he thought this a dubious request. Hope smiled
wanly, knowing she'd have to get used to condescension.

She found
Captain Huntley pacing the hall and he acknowledged her with a curt nod.

"Ah, there
you are. I've sent for Mrs Brown. She will sort you out."

"Thank you,
Captain." Hope fidgeted. Captain Huntley filled her senses, making it
difficult to act naturally. From his hawkish brow to that curl of hair behind
his ear, he touched her deep inside. She swore he had trembled when he held her
on the dock, and yet now seemed to despise her so. Never had she met anyone who
confused her in such a way, with the ability to frighten and excite her at the
same time. They waited for the housekeeper, awkward in each other's company.

"We are a
kitchenmaid short. Clothing and bed provided, wages paid quarterly." A
dark brow arched in challenge. "I take it you are not above menial
work."

"Of course
not."

Huntley grimaced,
"Good. Now, what's taking her so long? Couldn’t Jenkins find the blasted
woman?"

"George!
Language, please!" In a rustle of silk Lady Ryevale descended the stairs.
"Ah, Miss Tyler. There has been a change of plan?"

"Mother,
meet the new kitchenmaid."

Slowly, Lady
Ryevale shook her head. "George, what have you done?"

"You
disapprove? It was at your suggestion we offer Miss Tyler employment. So I
did."

"Oh
no!" Lady Ryevale stood tall, looking every inch the imperious matriarch.
"Oh no, I'm not having it."

Huntley looked
stricken. "You're not?"

"Absolutely
not. Miss Tyler is no maid." Her ladyship drummed her manicured fingers on
the banister. "I will train Miss Tyler as my secretary."

"Mother,
such a position of trust is out of the question."

Unperturbed,
Lady Ryevale inclined her head towards Hope and smiled. "Sometimes my son
forgets who's in charge here."

Huntley
spluttered. "Mother, this cannot be."

"How so,
dear?" She asked all innocence.

"Because
even having Miss Tyler as kitchenmaid puts my career in jeopardy. To have her
privy to estate business…is…is unthinkable."

"Hope has
beautiful handwriting, is quick to learn and I'm sure will prove most
conscientious and discrete."

"That's not
what I mean and you know it."

Hope watched
with alarm as Captain Huntley turned from red to puce. With cool disregard for
her son’s outrage, Lady Ryevale continued.

"For an age
I have been asking for help with estate business. Charles shows no inclination,
you are away so much and with Jack newly married—Miss Tyler is the perfect
solution. You will agree, won’t you, Hope dear?"

Hope drew in a
breath but the black look in Huntley’s eye influenced her reply.

“That is a kind
and generous offer, Lady Ryevale, but one I must decline.”

The Captain
deflated.

“Nonsense, why
ever not?”

Hope thought
quickly. “My skills are limited…and my manners…unconventional. I lack…the
refinement necessary to be your secretary.’

“Oh well, if
that’s all, it will be a pleasant diversion to broaden your education.”

From the corner
of her eye Hope saw the Captain grow large with indignation.

“And besides, I
am grateful for the position of kitchenmaid. I wouldn’t want to put Captain
Huntley in an awkward situation.”

“Heavens, George
has faced Napoleon, he can cope with a little gossip.”

Hope actually
felt sorry for Captain Huntley, clearly when Lady Ryevale made up her mind he
didn’t stand a chance.

“So, it’s
decided?" Lady Ryevale smiled benignly.

Before Huntley
could reply, Mrs Brown came waddling along the hall.

"Captain
Huntley, you sent for me?"

A shiny-faced
woman with ruddy cheeks and a double chin, dusted her hands on her apron.

"Indeed,"
Lady Ryevale broke into a beaming smile. "Please make up a room on the
same floor as my bedchamber. Miss Tyler is joining our household."

"Very good,
Ladyship. Will that be all?"

"Hmm. In
due course, send a message to Mrs Locke in the village. I'd be much obliged if
she'd call at the earliest opportunity, to measure Miss Tyler."