Hope (78 page)

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 red 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 about 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.’

‘No one but us knows the truth, so how can it erupt?’ Nell asked.

Angus put his hand over Nell’s on the table. ‘We are not all as good as you at keeping secrets,’ he said. ‘There are seven of us here today. Any one of us could let it slip sometime.’

All at once Betsy let out a bellow. Hope laughed. ‘I think Betsy wants to remind us that we aren’t just seven people to her, but family, mother, father, grandfather, aunts and uncles.’

Rufus moved to take Betsy out of the crib, and as he picked her up she stopped crying and her small face broke into a wide smile.

‘Well, Betsy,’ he said, looking down at her. ‘Far be it from me to deprive you of the dubious distinction of having a titled uncle, when you’ve already got a brace of war heroes in your family. So I guess I’d better slip round and tell Lily you will be her niece.’

Bennett got up from the table and went over to Rufus. ‘Are you absolutely sure about this, Rufus? There will be talk and it may well be hurtful to you.’

Rufus looked down at Betsy in his arms, then across the room at Hope, his blue eyes full of affection.

‘Let them talk, I’m proud to tell anyone that Hope is my sister. Maybe a few eyebrows will be raised, but what does that matter?’ He turned Betsy in his arms so she was facing everyone. ‘This little one and any other children Hope or I have matter. They must be brought up with love and honesty. And I know that Hope, like me, will tell them how we were brought up by Rentons, and that everything we learned that was good and true came from them.’

He kissed Betsy, then passed her to her father.

‘I’m absolutely certain,’ he said to Bennett. ‘Now, let’s fill our glasses one more time and drink to our family.’

Acknowledgements

To Glenn Fisher of the Crimean War Research Society, for inspiration, information and encouragement above and beyond the call of duty. Without your help and enthusiasm I would have floundered and probably sunk. My apologies to Jo, William and James for monopolizing so much of their husband’s and father’s time. Glenn, you will be mentioned in despatches.

To Sue Hardiman of the Bristol branch of the Historical Association, not just for her informative pamphlet on the 1832 cholera epidemic and its impact on the City of Bristol, which is so well written, fascinating and well researched, but also for her keen interest in my project and helping me to get my facts right.

I read dozens of books on Victorian England and the Crimean War in my research, but these ones were particularly notable and informative:

Journal Kept During the Russian War: From the Departure of the Army from England in April 1854, to the Fall of Sebastopol
, by Frances Isabella Duberly (Elibron Classics, 2000)

Eyewitness in the Crimea: The Crimean War Letters of Lt Col. George Frederick Dallas
, 1854–1856, edited by Michael Hargreave Mawson (Greenhill Books, 2001)

George Lawson: Surgeon in the Crimea
, edited, enlarged and explained by Victor Bonham-Carter (Constable and Co., 1968)

Several works on Bristol’s history, by Peter MacDonald

Mary Carpenter and Children of the Street
, by Jo Manton (Heinemann Educational, 1976)

Wonderful Adventures of Mrs Seacole in Many Lands
, by Mary Seacole, edited by Sara Salih (Penguin Books, 2005)

The Crimean Doctors: A History of the British Medical Services in the Crimean War
, by John Shepherd (Liverpool University Press, 1991)

The Reason Why
, by Cecil Woodham-Smith (Penguin Books, 1991)

PENGUIN BOOKS