Page 1 of Finding Hope
CHAPTER 1
Hope Whitford had watched that morning as her elder sister Faith had married Dominic, Lord Westwood, their guardian, and not without a little trepidation. Nothing would change, they said, but Hope was sceptical. She now sat at a table littered with remnants of the wedding breakfast, watching as Dominic danced with Faith, the two of them looking as though nothing or no one else existed in the world.
Hope could not suppress some jealousy towards Lord Westwood. She was not proud of this emotion, but it was difficult to think of Faith as anything other than her motherly elder sister and best friend. She had not even wanted to come to London and had had no thoughts of getting married, yet she had made the match of the Season. It was not that Hope wasn’t pleased for her sister, but she did not want everything to change. But how could it not?
She looked around the ballroom, which no longer resembled the heavens as it had only a few weeks before at her and her sister’s debut ball. Instead, it looked like a rose garden with tables for dining and room for dancing. Mr. Cunningham was doting on Joy and Freddy Tiger as the beloved rescuedcat was currently taking turns jumping from her lap to his. Hope laughed as she thought of the cat’s performance during the ceremony, when he’d leaped from Joy’s pocket to pounce on Faith’s train as it had snaked along behind her. The congregation had not been able to contain their laughter.
Patience was surrounded by her court of gentlemen in Regimentals. They all looked the same to Hope except for Major Stuart. He at least, with his fair features, resembled his brother Lord Westwood enough that she recognized him.
Lord Montford, another of Lord Westwood’s close friends, was holding out his hand, clearly asking Grace to dance. Hope stabbed her confit de canard with her fork, chewed it without tasting it, then took a long swallow of her champagne.
“May I join you?” Lord Carew, also one of Westwood’s friends, asked as he slid into the seat beside her before she could answer. “You look as though you are in mourning rather than celebrating.”
Hope tried not to watch as Lord Rotham twirled the beautiful Vivienne Cunningham around the room. She was Freddy, Mr. Cunningham’s younger sister and every bit as beautiful. With her blond curls she was the complete opposite of Hope, and looked ethereal next to Rotham’s dangerous dark looks.
“Would it help if we danced?” Carew asked, as if reading her thoughts.
“I doubt it.”
“Which sister will be next, do you think?” the Dowager asked the now Dowager Lady Westwood none too quietly—at least, from where Hope sat, it seemed as though she was almost shouting.
“It is hard to say. All of them have plenty of suitors.”
Hope heard a harrumph. “Better catch Rotham for the next one.”
Her ears pricked at the name.
“He will have to want to be caught. I am not certain that will happen anytime soon.”
“Balderdash! He will want what his friends have, mark my words.”
Hope frowned at that. What a lowering thought. To be wanted only for such a reason.
“Come. You need to dance.” Carew held out his hand to her, and she accepted it, meeting his twinkling blue eyes.
“Perhaps you are right.”
“My attentions to your sister seemed to get Westwood’s notice. Maybe Rotham will wake up and notice the prize before him as well.”
As she was swept into his arms, Hope thought perhaps she had fallen for the wrong man.
“Smile, dearest,” Lord Carew said as they danced. “Nothing will get Rotham’s attention more than seeing you enjoying another man’s arms.”
“Forgive me,” Hope said. “I must be a terrible partner.”
“Not at all,” he said graciously.
“Why are you doing this for me?”
“It would amuse me to see Rotham brought to heel.”
“Did it amuse you to do the same to Westwood?”
He smiled devilishly. “Indeed it did.”
He was remarkably handsome. Why could she not be in love with him? But Grace, her younger sister, was very much enamoured of the Irish rogue and Hope did not wish to hurt her.
“Were you insincere in your offer for Faith, then?” she asked.
