Tempting Her Reluctant Viscount (21 page)

Swearing to himself, Michael ordered the driver to take him back to Lady Lancaster’s. Hope could not hide from him for long. He would have his explanation, by God, even if he had to break down the door to get it.

…

After dropping Olive off at Lady Lancaster’s, Hope arrived home feeling more depressed and tired than she ever had before.

Knowing that Lady Lancaster’s was the first place Michael would go after she left him in the park, and knowing that the duchess would certainly want to know why Hope had arrived back alone and clearly in a traumatized state, Hope made the difficult decision to return home. At least there, she could wallow in her misery in the comfort of her own room. Provided she could avoid her father, that is.

Informing Rivers that she was not to be disturbed, Hope made her way to the staircase, intending to go straight to her bedroom where she could cry in peace. Unfortunately, not three steps into her weary ascent, Hope heard the voice of the last person with which she wished to deal.

“Hope,” Mr. Stuckeley called out furiously. “Where have you been, girl?”

He grabbed his daughter by the arms and jerked her into a fierce hug.

Shocked by his behavior, Hope attempted to remove herself from his grip, but he tightened his hold.

“Father, you are hurting me.”

“I have been so worried, girl,” he replied, releasing her abruptly. “Come with me.”

Hope wasn’t even given a chance to obey. Her father all but dragged her into the closest room. Surrounded by the pianoforte, viola, and other various instruments of the music salon, Hope wondered briefly if her father had gone crazy. Hope wrenched her arm from her father’s grasp and said, “I’m fine, father. As you can see. Whatever is wrong with you?”

Mr. Stuckeley turned, locked the door of the room, and pocketed the key before he replied, “You are what’s wrong. You and your stupid investigation.” Gazing sadly at her, he said, “You never stopped looking into it, did you, gel? And then you reported your findings to the authorities. ”

Unable to hide the guilt on her face, Hope turned away and walked over to the window, looking out with unseeing eyes. “Yes, I did, father.”

Then before he could respond, she turned back around and demanded, “How could I not? Those men…
you
…committed a monstrous crime!”

Wringing his hands, he looked like a scared rabbit. “And what exactly did you tell them about
me
?”

“I, ah, have told them nothing about you, Father. Nothing at all.”

Her father halted his hand wrangling to look suspiciously at Hope. “Nothing? Why not?”

Swallowing nervously, Hope prayed she could keep her composure. She must not let her father know that Michael was involved and that she had already told him to turn Mr. Stuckeley’s name over to the Exchange committee.

Lowering her eyes in what she hoped was a contrite manner, Hope whispered, “You are my father. I could
never
…” She let her voice trail off meaningfully.

Mr. Stuckeley seemed to sag a bit in relief and after being quiet for a bit, he said, “Come along, child.”

“Come along where, exactly?” Hope asked warily.

“Oh don’t fret, dear,” her father said in a too jovial tone, “we are just going to your room.”

Hope frowned apprehensively, but she went along anyway. Her bedroom had been her original destination after all, but something didn’t feel right. Her father was much too content all of the sudden.

However, true to his word, Mr. Stuckeley led Hope upstairs to her bedroom. He opened the door for her and waved her inside. Hope entered the comfortable and familiar space gratefully. She turned around to ask her father what he was going to do now, but he was already shutting the door. Immediately, Hope heard the familiar click of the lock. She ran to the door and tried the knob, knowing full well what he had done, but she was still surprised for some reason, when the knob did not turn.

“Father! What are you doing?” she asked frantically, pounding on the door. “Let me out!”

“I can’t, Hope-dear,” came his muffled reply. “I have to figure out what to do about this mess you have gotten yourself into; and I can’t have you running around unsupervised while I do.”

“But Father—” Hope started weakly, but he was already walking away. She listened to his heavy footfalls for as long as she could, hoping in vain he would re-think his actions and return to release her. But he never did.

Hope flung herself on the bed and began weeping. She had lost her only love, her father, and her freedom all in one day. Somewhere, sometime, she must have done something truly horrible to deserve such a fate as this; and somehow she just knew that this was only the beginning of the troubles looming before her.

Chapter Twenty-one

We have been given the unique ability to learn from the experiences of others. How sad is it that so many are disinclined to do so?

~The Duke of Lancaster

Michael walked away from the Stuckeley mansion for the third time in as many days, feeling completely rebuffed and rejected. Again, Hope had refused to see him. Every day it was the same thing…turned away at the door without so much as a ‘how-d’-you-do’. He had even gone so far as to peek through the window of Hope’s study on the off chance he would find her there. But it was empty.

Looking up at the blank windows of the second floor, Michael realized he didn’t even know which one was Hope’s room. Not that there was any way to reach any of them. None of the trees on the property grew close enough to the house to aid him.

With a sigh, Michael wondered why he was even bothering. Hope had turned down his proposal, after all. Perhaps she didn’t really want him. He had initially chalked up her refusal to the stress of finding out—without a doubt—her father was a criminal. An answer born of shock, not actual want or desire; but now…three days of not even seeing him? No explanations?

Clearly this was more serious than a simple blind reaction.

Looking up at the empty windows one more time, Michael reluctantly turned away from the house and plodded miserably back to his carriage and left.

…

Hope sat up when she heard her door opening. Although she knew it wasn’t mealtime, she glanced at the clock instinctively. In the past three days, no one had entered her room except her father. Three times a day, always with a hefty tray of food and absolutely nothing to say.

Hope had finally stopped asking him when he was going to let her out, and after only one day, she gave up on her childish decision not to eat. She was only punishing herself by starving herself. Her father said as much to her when she finished her food as when she didn’t. Nothing.

So whatever the cause for the unexpected visit this morning, Hope couldn’t help but feel a trickle of dread run down her spine. Clearly, the man she thought she knew better than anyone else wasn’t the man she thought he was. And, it appeared his back was against some sort of wall if he was willing to go to such lengths to keep an eye on her. Perhaps he had finally decided what do with her. She had a feeling that whatever it was, she wasn’t going to like it.

Running through all these dark thoughts in an instant, Hope could not have been more surprised to see her stepmother slip into her room and softly close the door behind her.

“Abigail,” Hope gasped.

Hurrying over to Hope, Abigail pulled her into an embrace and squeezed her tight. “Are you all right?” she queried, stepping back to examine her fully.

Hope knew she didn’t look maltreated in any way, although there was a prominent bruise on her upper arm; but otherwise, she appeared well fed and relatively unscathed.

“Yes…No…Oh, I don’t know,” Hope finally cried, turning to pace the room. “He has locked me in here. Father! For three days now…”

“I know,” Abigail replied. “He hasn’t left the house once in all that time until now. I couldn’t risk coming up while he was here. Hope,” she continued, stopping the girl’s absent walking and taking her hands into her own, “
what
is going on?”

Hope almost laughed. Where should she start? Should she tell Abigail everything…all that was going on with her husband…what he had done to their family?
Yes
, Hope said to herself,
she deserves to know the truth.

Hope drew her stepmother over to a couple of chairs placed in front of the large window of her bedroom. It was her favorite place to sit and think, as it overlooked the small, but beautiful garden her mother had planted in the back yard.

Sitting down, Hope indicated Abigail should sit as well. “Abigail, I have something to tell you. It’s about Father…”

Over the longest half hour of her life, Hope told Abigail all that had happened over the last week. She didn’t hold anything back. All her hopes and fears…and finally, her dismal plans for their precarious future.

Abigail sat in disbelief. Hope didn’t blame her. She had just learned that her husband had all but sent his entire family to the poor house, all for a chance to steal money they didn’t even need. For what purpose? “This is all my fault,” Abigail whispered.

“Abigail?” Hope asked with concern.

“Yes, yes, dear, “Abigail replied with a wave. “I’m fine. I just cannot believe that man. I think he did all this for us…for me.”

“For us, you? I don’t understand.”

Abigail reached down and laid a hand on her stomach. Then she looked at Hope sheepishly.

Understanding dawned on Hope immediately.

“Are you pregnant…again?” she said with an exasperated laugh.

Abigail blushed. “Well, yes. The doctor suspects it might be twins this time.”

“Oh Abigail,” Hope cried, giving her stepmother a hug “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“I fully expected your father to. I know how close you are, but I think…well, I think he went into a sort of denial instead.”

“He panicked, didn’t he?”

Abigail nodded. “That’s all I can think of for why he would do such a thing.”

“But we have plenty of money,” Hope sighed. “What was he thinking?”

“I suspect he was worrying about your dowry and all the future costs of raising 6 children. It’s a daunting task.”

“I wish he had just come and talked to me,” Hope said sadly. “I could have put his mind at ease. Worked out a budget guaranteed to show him how easily we could welcome two more babies into this family. Now it seems he has driven himself mad with his worry. What are we going to do now? He will surely go to jail.”

Abigail shook her head. “We will be fine, Hope. You will soon be married, and the children and I will find a nice, snug house of our own and be perfectly happy.”

“But Abigail,” Hope all but wailed, “how can we expect to find a house? We don’t have any money…any way to earn an income, even.”

To Hope’s amazement, Abigail began to laugh. “Earn an income? Hope-dear, whatever are you talking about?”

Hope just blinked. Once, and then twice…

With a smile, Abigail reached over and patted her stepdaughter’s knee gently. “I told you, dear, there is nothing to worry about. I have been squirreling away money for years. The children and I have more than enough to live on, and you…you will be married to that lovely viscount of yours.”

“Squirreling away…?”

“Yes,” Abigail replied proudly. “As much as I love your father, he is not the most responsible man, as you know, especially with his money. In particular, his winnings…so,” she continued lightly, “I occasionally ‘borrowed’ a few bills here and there. From his pockets and such…mostly while he was sleeping.”

Then Abigail shrugged. “He never bothered to count it before he deposited it in the bank, so he was never the wiser about the missing amount.”

“And you have been doing this for…er…years?” Hope asked slowly, impressed despite herself.

“Quite so, yes.”

Feeling a giggle rising from deep inside her, Hope began to put two and two together. “Let me guess…you have about 10,000 pounds or so stashed away somewhere?”

Looking very smug, Abigail simply smiled.

Nearly doubling over with laughter, Hope managed to gasp, “And all this time…I thought Father was skimming the funds…but it was YOU!”

“It was, indeed, I,” Abigail replied archly. “I did what I thought was best for my family…and now it is time to do what is best for you.”

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Hope looked at her stepmother curiously. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I must get you out of here, so that you may go to your viscount and clear up any misunderstandings right away.”

“Oh no, I can’t do that.”

“Of course you can,” Abigail insisted. “I know for a fact that Lord Lichfield has stopped by every day these last three days to see you. I know he still has feelings for you.”

Hope’s heart leapt when she heard that, but it quickly fell when she realized that it didn’t change anything. She never once doubted Michael’s sense of responsibility for her, but that just wasn’t enough.

“I know he cares for me,” Hope whispered, “but I cannot marry him.”

“Why ever not, dear?”

“Because marrying me will ruin him.”

“Oh, Hope,” Abigail sighed, “are you so sure you should be making this decision all by yourself? Don’t you think Lord Lichfield would want a say in the matter?”

“He will just say he doesn’t care…but he
should
care. A scandal like this won’t die down just because a new dance has been introduced or because someone lost a bundle in the gaming hells. This type of story will follow us for the rest of our lives…and,” Hope gulped down a new wave of threatening tears, “our children’s lives. My father will be convicted of treason. This was no simple robbery.”

“I think you underestimate the fickle nature of the
ton
, Hope. Yes, this story will be wagging a few tongues longer than just your typical gossip. But it too will pass. Your father is not the first gentleman to break the law, to commit treason, even. There are sons and daughters of murderers happily swilling champagne at some of the grandest soirees in town, even as we speak.”

Hope looked up at Abigail with a mixture of bleakness and fervent hope.