Hope's Betrayal (26 page)

Hope felt
humbled as she noticed his stiff gait, a sign his injury troubled him and yet
he'd put her needs first. They had grown close recently, and she hated to think
of him in pain, but knew well enough not to smother him. As her head cleared,
she tapped her foot to the distant music, looking forward to his return. After
the crush inside, being outside was soothing, she felt better in the fresh air
and suspected Huntley felt the same.

The sash window
above her head was open an inch or so, venting a smoking room. Now and again
Hope caught a waft of tobacco and the hum of male conversation. She took little
notice, until the word, "Huntley" made her skin prickle. The voices
grew louder, as the men drew closer to the window. Her heart pounded. She had
no wish to overhear a private conversation, but it was too late to move without
drawing attention to herself. And then curiosity got the better of her as their
talk continued in hushed tones.

"….obviously
Huntley has a liking for the gutter, just like his brother—that art fellow. He
married a waif he found on the streets, tried to pass her off as a lady…"

Hope bristled.
It was obvious they referred to Jack and Eulogy. She almost stood and knocked
on the window to put them right; Eulogy was a lady, she just didn’t happen to
be raised as one.

The man snorted.
"I mean, marrying an artist's model—I ask you."

“Yes, and now
she’s breeding and they don’t seem to mind their line being tainted.”

The man snorted
again. “Devlins always were bad news and with her mysterious history—who can
say she really is a purebred Devlin? Can’t imagine what Jack was thinking.”

“Not thinking
with something lower down than his brain!”

The crude
innuendo made Hope seethe.

“Dashed lucky
he’s not the eldest or he would disgrace the family more than he has already.”

Hope bit her
tongue.

“Obviously don’t
mind making a show of themselves though. I mean, You’d have thought Captain
Huntley would have learned from his brother.”

“Perhaps he has
and wants to outdo him.”

“Hmmm, hadn’t
thought of that. Reverse snobbery. Dashed tasty chit though, even if I do say
so myself.”

“Yes, but
absolutely no breeding, a fisherman’s daughter—the captain caught her smuggling
and took her to his bed.”

Hope ground her
teeth, they could at least get their facts straight. She'd been nowhere near
George's bed, although the prospect was not unappealing.

“What?” Guffawed
the first man.

“I know, isn’t
it priceless? If he marries the chit, he'll destroy any last vestige of respect
for his command. His lasting legacy? The naval captain whose head was turned by
a smuggler. ”

Conflicting
emotions spun around Hope’s head. With great difficulty she bit her tongue. But
long after the men had strolled away, their words haunted her. Eulogy was one
of the sweetest, most trusting people she had ever met—besides which she was
the true daughter of an aristocratic family, albeit with a complicated
childhood. If those gossips could say such things against someone legitimately
born, how much more cruel would they be about a bastard?

The thought
chilled Hope. Truly, she was a nobody—worse than a nobody—the illegitimate
child who had brought shame on two noble families. A sinking sensation settled
in the pit of her stomach. She had been a naïve fool. Truly, if she had any
feelings for George's reputation, she must leave.

The pain in her
heart intensified. The silvered moonlight mocked her, the shadows harsh and
eerie as she shivered. Her mind was made up, she loved Huntley enough to let
him go.

Hope shrank
deeper into the shadows. The gossip had opened her eyes to the truth, that no
matter how extravagant the costume, she would always be an imposter. Her pulse
pounded like an executioner's drum. She should have left weeks ago and was
considering slipping away without saying goodbye, when George's voice disturbed
her thoughts. Feeling wretched, she forced a smile. Huntley mustn’t see her
distress for he'd demand an explanation—and try to make her stay.

"Apologies
for being so long. I got buttonholed by a fellow I hadn’t seen since Dartmouth." Huntley ambled over with a smile on those kissable lips and her heart
twisted—without doubt she loved him.

"Please, do
not be concerned on my part."

"Is lemonade
alright?"

With a shaking
hand she took the proffered glass. "Perfect, thank you."

Huntley sat and
shot her a sideways look. "Did something happen while I was gone?"

"No."

"It's just
when I left you seemed so happy, now you seem a little…tense."

"I assure
you nothing is wrong," she said, wishing he would change the subject.

"Is it
because I was so long?" He persisted.

"No!
Please, just let it go."

Awkwardly, they
sipped their drinks. A couple of times Huntley opened his mouth to speak, and
then shut it again. It occurred to Hope to wonder if the gossip had reached his
ears and he was ashamed to be seen in her company. The evening had lost its
appeal. Hope stared listlessly across the garden where torches lit shingle
paths along which couples strolled arm-in-arm. The perfect night for romance
mocking the fact that here she sat, too miserable to speak, planning to leave
the man she loved.

And George, he
drained his drink in one and sat on the edge of the bench as if trying to
distance himself. Knowing she couldn’t disguise her hurt, Hope turned away.

Huntley cleared
his throat. "It's a beautiful evening."

"I beg your
pardon?"

"I said,
it's lovely weather for the time of year."

"Oh yes. I
suppose."

"Look here,
Hope. The thing is, there's something I've wanted to ask for a long time now,
but never found the courage." He blurted out.

"It's
alright." She sighed. "You needn’t sound so worried, I know what
you’re going to say."

"You
do?"

"Yes, and
I've been thinking about it myself."

"You
have?"

"The last
thing I want to do is bring shame on you and Lady Ryevale. I'll leave in the
morning."

"Leave?"

"Unless you
preferred I went tonight?"

"No! Of
course not."

"The
morning it is then."

Huntley jumped
up and then clutched his leg. He set about rubbing it while fixing Hope with
his penetrating gaze. "What are you wittering about? I most certainly
don’t want you to go."

"Then
what?" Her brows shot up into her hairline, as Huntley's wide lips tipped
up at the corners. Slowly, steadying himself against the bench, he lowered
himself into a kneeling position.

"Captain?
What are you doing? Get up!"

"Hope
Tyler…"

Alarm fired
through her blood. "Why so serious?"

"Hope
Tyler, would you do me the great honor…"

Suddenly
fearful, that if he proposed she lacked the strength to refuse, she tugged at
his arm. "Captain Huntley, do get up. Your poor leg!"

He laughed.
"This is so like you, Hope, putting others before yourself."

"Please,
get up."

“Not until I’ve
asked you to be my wife.  Hope Tyler, marry me!”

Hope's  mouth
dropped open;  she must  protect Huntley from himself. “I can’t think with you
like this. Please. Sit down.”

"If you
insist." Using the bench to lever himself up, Huntley sat. “There…and your
answer?”

For a moment she
hesitated.

“Why do you want
to marry me?”

Huntley’s face
grew grave. “Because I have never met such an uncommonly agreeable woman.”

The irony was so
great she almost giggled. All the angst and he didn’t even love her!

“So the  main
reason is because I don’t bore you?”

“Well, that's
not exactly,…”

To think she had
been agonising about how to let him down gently! Farcical! Huntley had just
made everything a whole lot easier.

“No, Captain
Huntley, I will not marry you.”

To give him
credit, his mouth worked up and down. “But I thought…”

“You thought what,
Captain Huntley?” She challenged him with a steely stare. “You thought I would
be grateful? That I’d fall at your feet to be a Huntley? Well no. I have more
self-respect. I won’t  marry for anything less than love.” There, she had
trumped him; the word was obviously alien to his tongue.

“Love?” Huntley
seemed dumbfounded, shaking his head with his eyes closed. “But I love you more
than my own life. Did I not say that?”

Hope felt as if
she’d been slapped.

“Your proposal
sounded like a business proposition.”

“Hope, I thought
you knew. I took it as read you knew I love you—why else would I dress in this
ridiculous costume and prostrate myself like an idiot—if not to please you.”

“Oh!”

He grasped her
hand and placed it over his heart. Through the embroidered cloth she felt it
hammer. “It beats only for you. You are my reason for living.”

Emotion choked
her throat. “But it cannot be.”

“Why not?  I
love you—heart soul and body. I have loved you since I first set eyes on you,
even when I thought you were a boy, my body knew I loved you. Please, say yes.”

“No,” Tears
sprang to her eyes. “Please don’t be difficult, just accept my answer is no.”

“Do you love
me?”

Hope gasped, her
heart breaking. She opened her mouth, bracing herself to lie, but  false words refused
to come.

“I see in your
eyes you do,” he squeezed her hand, “so what are you afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid
for myself,” she whispered, “but of ruining your life.”

Huntley smiled
patiently. “Hope, the only way you could do that is if you walked away.”

Exquisite
anguish penetrated her soul and she almost cried aloud.

“Tell me what
bothers you?” He entreated. “Is it because I am not the man I was? Because I
walk with a limp?”

“Of course not.”

“I see your
distress, but don’t understand. Please, I have to know, my dearest, tell me.”

“If…if I married
you…” she stuttered and then the words spilled out, “the gossips would eat you
alive, and any chance of a Naval career would be gone forever. Your reputation
in tatters.”

Huntley sat back
“Tis true,” he said, “the Navy was my life, my reason for existing, to smell
the salt air, the adventure, risking life and limb…”

Her heart
chilled, after all his protestations of love, she was right.

“But that was
before…before I had a better reason for living…you! I've had time to come to
terms with my situation and I don’t mind so much now. Before, those were empty
years, I was restless, to give life purpose I sought to right wrongs, to do my
best by King and country. But now I have a greater reason…you.

Hope Tyler—marry
me!”

“I….I don’t know
what to say.”

“How about yes?”

She clutched her
gown, she could not let her selfish desires color what was best for him. At the
very least she needed time.

“I need to
think.”

“Very well,”
Huntley looked grave, “Never have I met a woman I wanted to spend more than ten
minutes—let alone a lifetime—until you. So I can wait.”

Hope looked down
to hide her confusion. Huntley stood.

“You look
exhausted."

She nodded.
"I would like to leave now."

"I shall
summon the carriage. Will you be alright here alone for a few minutes?”

Hope nodded, but
couldn’t look at him for fear she would crumble. She felt the air move as he
bowed and heard his uneven steps as he left to find Lady Ryevale and summon the
carriage. Only once he was out of sight did her shoulders sag and she gave way
to tears.

For several
minutes she sat quietly weeping as she struggled to compose
herself."Excuse me, Miss Tyler, but are you alright?" A figure
stepped out from behind the shrubbery.

"Mr.
Oswald!" Hope gasped. "How long have you been there?"

Oswald looked
awkward. "Ah, I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that—only I was passing when
Captain Huntley made his proposal—I didn’t like to interrupt and so I dropped
into the shadows."

"Ah. So you
heard…everything?" The thought of Oswald knowing Huntley’s feelings made
her uncomfortable.

"It was
certainly not my intention to eavesdrop."

"Then I can
rely on your silence?"