Hope's Betrayal (33 page)

Huntley narrowed
his eyes. “You mean, join the Excise men on a permanent basis?”

“That’s right.
On a formal contract of course. I've spoken to the powers that be and you would
be the senior officer in charge of operations.”

Hope watched
Huntley carefully. Clearly he was tempted, the steady tap of his foreigner against
the chair arm gave that away. She wanted to be happy for him. If he accepted,
then he had purpose, not everything was lost. So why then did she feel a jolt
of bereavement. And then she knew. For if Huntley joined the Customs Service,
then it was her duty to leave. She couldn’t jeopardise his second chance. If
she’d learned anything over the past few days, it was that the smuggling
network was spread wider than she’d ever imagined. Who was to say there
wouldn’t be somebody else who would try to use her past to hurt Huntley? No,
she couldn’t take the risk of having his name linked with hers. Painful though
it was, she must sacrifice her own feelings to repay the debt she owed him. 

She looked down
at her lap and started tracing the threads of yellow in the tartan rug,
anything but look at Huntley—because if she did she would cry. She would have
left the room had she been able to speak to excuse herself, but if she opened
her mouth she feared she would sob. Swallowing hard, she prepared herself for
the inevitable. When Huntley accepted she would be dignified and congratulate
him, no matter what the cost to herself.

“Bennett,”,
Huntley looked a little lost. “this has official sanctions? It’s not just a
whim?”

Bennett rocked
backwards and forwards on the balls of his feet.

“Absolutely,
Captain. It has the Admiralty’s blessing, They consider it an ideal way of not
losing a good man to pasture.”

“Well, that’s
flattering to hear.” Huntley’s face was unreadable and the seconds ticked by.

“What do you
say, Captain? Is it a yes?” Bennett glowed with excitement. “And if you’re
wondering about working with me, I’m not a man to bear grudges.”

“That’s big of
you, Bennett, thank you.”

Hope risked a
glance a Huntley; a vein ticked in his forehead. Her heart leaped into her
throat. Surely there was only one answer—for a man of action like Huntley, this
job was a gift..

“It is a
tempting offer, one I’m flattered to receive.”

“Well then?”

“But my answer
is…no. I cannot accept this commission.”

Hope’s mouth
dropped open and Bennett stared at him.

“Perhaps you
need more time to think things through. It would be an ideal position.” His
gaze flicked to Huntley’s leg. “Oh, I see.” His already pink cheeks gained more
color.

“My decision
isn’t based on my lameness, but other considerations.”

Huntley’s eyes
met Hope’s. She stared into their aching blue depths and glimpsed a tenderness
there which shocked her. Unable to look away, her chest seemed locked in iron
bands. Emotion welled to the surface as she fought back tears.

“Is there
anything I can say to change your mind?” Bennett said.

“No, nothing.”

Huntley spoke
softly to Hope, as if forgetting Bennett was in the room.

“All my life
I’ve sought to fill a void at the centre of my being—fill it with adventure and
danger, anything to make me feel alive. But I’ve changed. The contentment I
seek isn’t found in activity, but in the company of the right woman. And you,
Hope Tyler, are that woman.”

Bennett cleared
his throat. “Perhaps, sir, it’s best if I leave now.”

Neither Hope nor
Huntley saw him go as Bennett discretely left the room.

“Hush,” she
insisted, “don’t say any more.” Fear rushed through her blood lest she let
herself hope for no reason. “I am honored  but what if I’m not enough for you?”
Her head pounded. She wanted to throw herself into his arms but she held back,
struck by the notion that in the future he would  resent her for stealing  his
life of adventure.

Huntley stared
at her long and hard, and for a moment she wondered if she’d displeased him.

“Hope, deep
down, I haven't been happy for years. All the noise and activity was just to
cover the yawning gap in my life. The thing was, until I met you, I didn’t even
know what I was doing, but I daren’t stop in case I had to face how unhappy I
really was.”

Hope swallowed
hard.

“My eyes have
been opened. I want different things now. The thought of being away at sea for
months rings hollow. I want home and hearth, a wife and children. Dickens is
old and Charles shows no interest in the estate. I was chasing shadows, trying
to right great wrongs when there is enough to be done here, to make life better
for the tenants. If Charles agrees, then I could think of nothing better than
to live here with you as my wife, and run the estate, but that all depends on
your answer.”

They had eyes
only for each other. Huntley pushed aside his rug, and made his way stiffly to
Hope’s side. He took her hand in his and pressed a kiss against the palm.
Warmth and heat flooded up her arm. Crouching beside her he rested his head in
her lap.

“Hope Tyler, I
love you. Once, I asked you to marry me and you turned me down. Might I dare
think that if I asked again, you might reconsider?”

In a state of
shock, Hope sat frozen. Absentmindedly, she reached out to stroke his hair.
Such feelings filled her...that such a man...so noble and strong...desired her.
She felt inadequate. Could she live up to his expectations, perhaps the chase
was better than the capture? But then words burst through and before she knew
they had come out of her mouth.

“Well, we won’t
know unless you ask me.”

Clearing his
throat, and with great dignity, Huntley knelt and took her hand at the precise
moment the parlor door opened, and Lady Constance breezed in.

“Oh, Hope dear…I
thought George was with you…Oh!”

“Hello Mother.”
Huntley looked up warily.

“I say George,
what are you doing down there? Are you quite alright?”

“Yes, Mother,”
he said through gritted teeth, " I was on the point of proposing to Hope,
when we were interrupted.”

“Oh, I say. Best
I leave you to it.” She hesitated. “You do know it’s awfully warm in here,
don’t you?”

“So we’ve been
told.”

“Alright then
dear, carry on.” Unless her eyes deceived her, Hope could have sworn Lady
Constance winked.

“Now, where was
I?” Like a bird settling down its ruffled feathers, Huntley gave a little
shake. “Ah yes, Hope Tyler, would you do me the great honor of becoming my
wife?”

 “Well, seeing
as you put it so very nicely…yes!”

For a moment
neither moved. And then they laughed. Pressing their foreheads together, great
rippling gales of laughter erupted between them. Huntley kissed her cheek. She
smiled through the mist of joy, and leaned forward to kiss away the tears which
glistened on his own cheeks. They tasted salty, of man, and a long suppressed
longing woke within her. A tension between them pulled them closer until his
breath tickled her lips. She sighed with relief as he kissed her, such a deep
need within that everything else was forgotten as she tasted his passion for
her. His tongue swept her lips, igniting fire in her belly. He filled her
senses with the scent of his masculine musk, of the comfort and strength.

“I love you,
George Huntley.” She murmured.

“I love you
too.”

Caressing her
face, stroking her hair, smoothing a curl from her forehead, he kissed the tip
of her nose, her eyelids and her forehead. He groaned.

“It is going to
be difficult to keep my promise not to touch you until our wedding night.”

Hope flushed, a
surge of hot desire swamping her body, making her knees weak. It would indeed
be difficult to stick to her resolve.

“And I love you
all the more for it.”

His eyes glowed
dark with passion as his lips found hers—hot, wet and demanding. Her blood
surged with a new beat, lost in the enchantment of his closeness.  Her hand
cupped behind his neck. Thrilling as he quivered beneath her touch, and when
the door opened, neither of them heard it.

“One last thing
George, while I think about it. Oh!” Lady Constance flushed scarlet. “Oh my
dears. Do I take it Hope said yes?”

“Yes, Mother,”
George looked up darkly. “She did indeed.”

“Well hurrah for
that. I thought you two would never see sense.”

Whatever
misgivings Hope might have had about not being good enough for Huntley, were
swiftly put aside by Lady Ryevale's delighted reaction .

“This is the
best news, quite wonderful.” She strode over and threw her arms around the
couple, embracing first one and then the other. “Now all I need is for Charles
to settle down and everything will be perfect.”

“I’m so pleased
you are happy, Mother. And the best is yet to come.”

“What?” She
looked at him quizzically.

“Tell her.” Hope
prompted.

“If it’s not
putting Charles’s nose out of joint, I shall help Dickens run the estate, and
in due course, take over from him.”

“But that is
doubly wonderful news!” Lady Constance’s face broke into a broad smile,
wrinkles framing her eyes while she looked much younger. “It’s what I’ve been
hoping for. At last I can relinquish all that worry and responsibility. I shall
move into the dower house and perhaps Hope can help me choose a suitable
companion.”

Their wedding
day dawned with a bone-white sky and ground sparkling with frost; it was as if
the world had been gilded with silver for the occasion. The weeks since she'd
accepted Huntley had flashed past, and now the day was here. Hope had slept
little and woken early. With no mother to advise her, she fretted over the
wedding night. What was expected of her? Would she know what to do? Hope had
thought of asking Lady Ryevale, but that didn’t feel right. In the end, she opted
for ignorance and the vague hunch that an activity akin to a ram tupping a ewe
would take place.

"Hope,
dear, you look beautiful. Stunning." Her face beaming with pleasure, Her
Ladyship held out her hands. "Are you ready, my dear? It's time to
go."

The carriage
rattled through the countryside Hope had come to love so much, and a short time
later drew up outside Sandehope Parish church. Hope leaned forward and rested a
gloved hand against the window. The lych-gate was decorated with white ribbons
and yellow winter jasmine. Thomas Tyler stood proud as a peacock, waiting to
hand her down. Hope’s throat closed over, at a loss for words. Never had she
seen her stepbrother look so smart. In new clothes he looked quite the country
gentleman; the jacket cut with a velvet collar, a white rose in the buttonhole,
and his hair, much like Jasper's, had been brushed until it shone.

“Hope?” He bowed
and offered his elbow. “You look beautiful, you do.”

She beamed,
still at a loss for words.

“Ready, dear?”
Lady Ryevale lifted Hope’s veil, and at her nod, arranged the lace carefully
over her face. “There now. You are ready.”

After Hope
alighted, came Lady Ryevale, resplendent in a gown of quilted satin. Then,
yapping, asking to be lifted down, came Jasper. Once on the ground, the dog
fussed around their ankles, a large satin bow tied on his collar. Given the
winter weather, Hope wore a pelisse trimmed with swan’s down on top of her silk
bridal gown. She wore a circlet of seashells in her hair, anchoring the veil in
place while she wore her hair long, in a dark curtain down her back.

As Hope entered
the church, she was surprised at how full it was. An old stone building, in
parts dating back to Norman times, the nave a riot of colour from the bonnets
and gowns of the assembled well-wishers. As the organ struck up, people turned
to stare, all smiles and grins. Hope recognised many from Sandehope and
environs, and some had even travelled from the Island. It seemed once folk had
got over the initial surprise, the match was a popular one, for people
recognised that Hope taming the Captain sufficiently to take over the estate,
was beneficial to laborer and farmer worker alike. If there was one cloud over
Hope's day, it was that her father was bedbound, but he had given her his
wholehearted blessing and sent Tom in his place to give her away.

Sliding her arm
through Tom's as the organ music rose into a swell, Hope walked down the aisle.
Being winter, swags of holly with red berries, and sheaves of mistletoe
decorated the columns, as well as the bouquet of winter jasmine Hope gripped as
if her life depended on it. The music carried her forward, as she forgot her
nerves and let it echo deep through her soul. Jasper padded with great dignity
behind her, wagging his tail as if the congregation was there to admire him and
not the bride.

Ahead of her was
the broad back and wide shoulders of Captain George Huntley, with Jack to his
side. Hope smiled to herself. First, George had asked Charles to be best man,
but such was his elder brother’s fear of matrimony, that he had declined on the
grounds it was an institution he intended to avoid at all costs—and deferred
that honor to Jack. The two brothers stood shoulder to shoulder; both tall,
broad and muscular. But it was only George Hope saw. His heroics on the beach
had set back his recovery, making it painful for him to stand for any length of
time, and yet his pride precluded him from using a stick on his wedding day. A
fresh wave of love threatened to overwhelm Hope as her heart swelled with
emotion.