Tempting Her Reluctant Viscount (18 page)

Hope had stayed at Lady Lancaster’s last night after returning home from the ball. She still did not want to face Mr. Stuckeley, but the duchess was sure a confrontation was unavoidable, and as the mission was coming rapidly to an end (only Cochrane-Johnstone remained at large) she suspected the confrontation would be happening sooner than later.

Considering all this, Lady Lancaster decided not to mention anything about the Exchange hoax to the girls just yet. Better to let Hope work through her family concerns a little while longer before being subjected to a number of questions she may not be ready to discuss. Or if she felt the need to talk, she could instigate a more private conversation herself.

Truthfully, the duchess rather hoped she
would
confide in her friends. That was their purpose, after all. Unconditional love and support in the face of adversity.

To that end, Lady Lancaster said, “No, Rose. There will be no discussion of missions today. In fact, I believe we should conclude our meeting early.”

The five ladies in the room all looked at the duchess somewhat aghast.

“Are…are you sure, my lady?” Emily asked hesitantly, looking very concerned.

Lady Lancaster scoffed at the look of alarm she saw on more than one of the faces before her. “Oh pish posh, ladies! I am fine. There is simply nothing else to discuss today. However, you are all welcome to stay and chat as long as you like. In fact, I am sure Hope would appreciate a little ‘girl time’. She has not seen very much of you lately, busy as she has been with her own…
pursuits
.”

Looking at Sarah and Emily, Lady Lancaster was gratified to see that they understood the less than discreet message and already were maneuvering to Hope’s side.

Hannah and Rose exchanged a glance and quickly excused themselves. Hannah had promised Rose some of David’s childhood clothes for use in her own intrigue, so they had to leave; but clearly they trusted that Emily and Sarah would support Hope in whichever way was required of them and report back to Hannah and Rose with anything that they could do to help.

Satisfied that Hope was in good hands, Lady Lancaster left the room, pausing to stop a passing maid and ordering tea and sweets to be delivered to the remaining girls. In her experience, desserts always made a difficult conversation better.

…

Hope was surprised at how quickly the room emptied out after Lady Lancaster made her pronouncement; although considering the complete lack of finesse the lady has used to indicate Hope’s desire to talk, she shouldn’t have been. Hope wasn’t particularly aware of her own need to converse with her friends and, honestly, she wasn’t sure how helpful airing her concerns would be, but there they were…Sarah and Emily…looking at her as supporting and understanding as possible, patiently waiting for her to spill her troubles at their feet.

Hope sighed.

It wouldn’t do to hurt their feelings, she decided, so she would talk about a few of the safer topics to appease them and keep the bulk of the tale to herself.

However, as it sometimes happens, once she started talking, she couldn’t stop. Soon the whole story was out and, judging from the looks on Sarah and Emily’s faces, they thought Hope had had a right to be quiet and sullen during the meeting. Frankly, her friends were surprised that Hope could even muster the energy to drag herself from her bed every day.

“So,” Emily said in a hushed, sort of awed voice, “your father’s advisor is neck-deep in this whole affair.”

Hope nodded morosely.

“Which means your father likely is, too,” Sarah decided with her usual bluntness.

“Well, we don’t know that for sure,” Hope rushed to say. “He could still be the one…”

Hope’s voice trailed off in the face of her friend’s reproachful looks.

“Hope,” Emily admonished gently, “you can’t possibly believe that your father is innocent in the face of all this evidence. I know it’s hard to believe about one’s own father, but you need to prepare yourself for what is going to happen. He
will
be found out, and you need to come up with a plan to protect yourself and your step-mother and siblings when all the balls he has been juggling lately suddenly fall to the ground.”

And in that moment, Hope forgot how to breathe. She felt as she had received a kick in the stomach. Emily was right. If her father
was
guilty, and she could no longer deny that he very probably was, she and her family would be left with nothing. Already Mr. Stuckeley had squirreled away most of their income, and the government would probably seize the rest. They would be ruined, destitute.

Michael!
Hope thought frantically. He would be ruined, too, if their relationship were to continue. The Stuckeley’s would be tarnished goods. Hope would have no dowry, no reputation, and a father in prison; not to mention she would suddenly have five extra mouths to feed. Certainly, she could no longer be deemed worthy of a viscount. Assuming he even wanted her.

Hope felt faint.

Hope took a huge shuddering breath and gasped, “Whatever shall I do?”

She looked at Sarah and Emily with panic-stricken eyes and then collapsed into gut-wrenching sobs.

Sarah and Emily moved to Hope’s side and wrapped her in the biggest, tightest hug they could manage.

Over the top of Hope’s shaking form, Sarah hissed, “Good work, Em.”

“I’m sorry,” Emily replied with horror. “I had no idea she would take it like this.”

“How did you think she would take it? You just told her that her life was all but ruined,” Sarah announced with less than tactful sarcasm and Hope began to cry even harder.

Clearly at a loss as to what to do, Emily and Sarah decided to stop talking to each other and took to patting their friend ineffectually on the shoulders and back and murmuring things like “it’s going to be alright”, “you’ll always have us”, and “if you need to vomit, let me know and I will get the wash basin” (at which point the speaker, Sarah, was hit rather forcefully by the co-comforter, Emily, effectively ending conversation altogether).

It wasn’t too much later, though, that Hope found herself pretty much cried out. She sat up and shooed her friends off of her. They returned to the spots across from her and watched Hope carefully, ready to return to her side if a relapse should occur.

With an occasional hiccup so typical after a good cry, Hope sat up and pushed her hair out of her face and wiped the last of the tears from her eyes. Her crying jag had not done her much good nor, she was sure, did she look her best, but she had come to a number of conclusions.

She would contact an employment agency as soon as possible to see if she could procure a job, perhaps as a nanny; she rather liked children, actually. Whatever it was, she needed something to do that would allow her to support herself and her family. Her stepmother might be able to hire someone to carry out her investment requests (given to her by Hope, of course) and they could start to rebuild their income through those means, too.

Surely, if a family is abandoned by the man of the house, the wife could conduct business without him? Hope would need to make some inquiries.

But most importantly, Hope needed to end her involvement with Michael. There was really no other choice. She could not, in good consciousness, bring Michael down in any way. He was already on the outs with much of the
ton
due to his strange proclivity for working his own lands. She would not compound the issue by allowing him to marry her—a traitor’s daughter. Assuming he even wanted to marry her, that is.

Of course, knowing the right thing to do and actually doing it, were two totally different things.

They had pretty much wrapped up the case, in her opinion, so they shouldn’t have any reason to be investigating together anymore. And as that was really the only reason they had been spending so much time together, Hope rather thought staying away from him should be fairly easy. Easy to achieve, that is…not so easy on her painfully breaking heart. For that reason, she needed time to build up the strength to end her time with Michael. So, she would simply avoid him until she could no longer. Then she would do what she had to.

Exactly when had her heart gotten so involved?

“Are you all right, now, Hope?”

Hope looked at Sarah with resignation. “No, but I think I will be.”

“I am really sorry for upsetting you,” Emily said softly.

Shaking her head, Hope assured her, “No, don’t be sorry. You said what I needed to hear. It’s time I faced facts. I have my future—and the future of my family—to think about.”

“Well, surely when you marry Michael, you will be able to provide an income for your stepmother and brothers and sisters,” Sarah stated as if Hope’s marrying Michael was a foregone conclusion.

Of course, after their behavior at the Abingdon ball, Hope would have been surprised if
everyone
didn’t believe that to be the case. In a society where just dancing with the same woman a mere three times in one night was tantamount to a formal engagement, spending an entire evening with a girl meant the two were as good as married.

Hope hadn’t contemplated marriage as a possible solution to the mess in which her father was leaving her, but now that she had thought of it, she realized it wasn’t truly an option any more.

“Yes,” Hope found herself answering carefully, “I am sure Michael would be very generous to his wife’s relations. He is a wonderful man.”

Not hearing anything amiss in Hope’s very politic answer, Emily smiled and said, “Is he escorting you to the Alvanley Ball tomorrow? It is supposed to be the event of the season.”

“Of course he is,” Sarah answered for her. “You saw the way he doted on Hope at the Abingdon party. There is no way he would be anywhere but by her side at the ‘event of the season’.”

Hope smiled weakly. She had forgotten about the Alvanley soirée. Prinny’s set had planned the grand ball, and therefore, it was expected that the prince would make an appearance; consequently, anyone who was anyone was planning to attend.

For one brief moment, Hope considered skipping the fête, but she knew that her friends—and especially Lady Lancaster—would not allow that. In their mind, there would be no reason to not attend such a coup of a party and, as Hope planned to keep them in the dark about her decision regarding Michael for as long as possible, she knew she was going to have to go.

“Michael hasn’t mentioned anything to me, as of yet,” Hope admitted, “but we have been very busy. I expect he will ask me once he recalls the event.”

And Hope would do everything in her power to avoid going with him, even if it meant sneaking off to the ball by herself. She just needed to make an appearance, to appease her friends, and then she could feign a headache or putrid stomach and return to the comfort and solitude of Lady Lancaster’s house.

“I’m sure you are correct, Hope. Any minute now, you will receive a note from him about it. Don’t you worry,” Emily reassured her, obviously mistaking her friend’s melancholy for concern that she would not be asked by Lord Lichfield.

And then, to the girls’ amazement, Jacobs entered the parlor with a large bouquet of flowers and presented them to Hope.

With a sinking heart, Hope removed the card from within the glorious array of blooms and read the note aloud. “My dearest Hope, please do me the honor of attending the Alvanley ball with me. I shall arrive at Lady Lancaster’s promptly at 8pm. Until then, all my love…Michael.”

Sarah and Emily let out identical sighs, and Hope sat rooted to the spot. Closing her eyes briefly, Hope wondered if she would be able to survive this…this self-imposed exile from the man she was beginning to think she loved…in all honesty, this time.

“You see, Hope.” Emily trilled. “I told you to expect something soon. What fortuitous timing. And such a beautiful arrangement.”

“It must have cost a fortune!”

“Sarah,” Emily scolded, “it is not polite to speak of such things.”

Sarah shrugged. “One would think you would be
used
to me saying ‘such things’, by now.”

“One would think you would have learned
not
to say ‘such things’ by now,” Emily retorted.

“Perhaps my capacity to learn is not as great as you think.”

“I rather think your capacity to learn is just fine; it’s your capacity to care that is lacking.”

Sarah appeared to consider that, before nodding. “Yes, you may very well be right about that.”

To which Emily threw up her hands. “I give up,” she announced.

“Would that that were true,” Sarah muttered, shaking her head sadly.

Hope was surprised to find herself smiling at her friends’ exchange. It was one that she had heard many times; had, in fact, engaged in many times. Sarah was famous for her frankness and all of the Garden Society ladies had, at one time or another, spoken to the girl about it. Not that it had done much good. But despite, or perhaps because of, her inability to be anything less than honest, Sarah found a way to charm everyone willing to give her a chance. She was simply endearing, that was all there was to it. And Hope was certain Sarah would make some man a wonderful wife…if the men of London would just come to their senses.

It is a shame
, Hope thought, the way society was able to dictate what was desirable. Shouldn’t a person’s worth ultimately be based on what was on the inside? Sarah, with her clumsy awkwardness and social ineptitude, would never be considered a prize, but she
was
one. A prize to be cherished and loved.

Feeling naturally disposed to being maudlin after all the events of the afternoon, Hope felt tears well up in her eyes again. She stood and pulled Sarah into a heartfelt hug.

“Don’t ever change, Sarah. I love you just the way you are.”

Sarah patted Hope awkwardly on the back and said, “Well, thank you, Hope. I, ah, love you, too.”

A second later, worried that she may be hurting Emily’s feelings, Hope pulled away from the one friend long enough to drag the other one up into the embrace, as well.

Chapter Nineteen