Page 53 of Finding Hope
Hope nodded, but all she wanted was time alone to think. There had to be somewhere she could go undetected. All of the young ladies were accounted for in the front gardens, outside the study window, and no one would know in advance of her plans as they had with the hunt. “I think I will return to my chambers and rest for a while,” she said so that Rotham would let her go. Her chambers were not far down the hall from there, and they had posted footmen at either end as promised. “Thank you for your assistance in this matter.”
The way he looked at her threatened to melt away her resolve, but she turned away so she would not change her mind.
“Would you like Diana to escort you?”
“It is not far, and with the footmen posted, I will do very well, thank you.”
He held the door for her and she smiled slightly at him as she passed by. The door did not close behind her, so she assumed Rotham was watching her progress. Once she had turned the corner, she fled to the nearest door to escape, hoping no one had witnessed her flight. The overbearing need for space outweighed any consideration of safety.
Watching from the doorway, she saw a few people meander away from the garden towards the south lawn for games, she assumed, and took the chance to sneak past.
Patience and Grace had become best friends with Vivienne Cunningham and Lady Claudia, as had Joy with Lady Susan, and it was likely they would be occupied with their friends for most of the day. Faith was somewhere with Westwood, and Hope did not think they would miss her for a while.
She was not fit for company, with her mind whirling, and walking seemed the only way to clear her head. Besides, she needed to do something active and this beautiful estate was begging to be explored.
Thankful she had chosen her jean half-boots instead of slippers, she set off on a gravel path that headed towards the river. As she passed under the overarching pines, oaks, and black alders, the sun was blocked by the canopy of the trees and the shade from the peak.
Her situation was beginning to feel desperate, and she did not understand why someone would hate her enough to shoot at her. It had to go beyond mere jealousy…someone wanted her out of the way. Not wanting to think about it anymore, she climbed where no one would think to look for her.
She could feel her breaths coming shorter as she began to ascend the peak. It had not been her intention to climb, but she did not fear becoming lost. However, she would need to turn around in time to be back before she was missed.
As she reached the top, the wind picked up, blowing her dress and pulling her hair free from its loose pins. The sense of freedom and exhilaration were worth it. She sat for a while on a large boulder, needing the time to compose her thoughts and ask God why this was happening. He did not answer, but somehow, as she looked out over the vast vista of square fields, running water, and rocky terrain, she felt as but a speck of dust. Up there, her problems were not so significant.
Clouds began to move in, and she knew it was time to return. Faith would be visiting her room soon and would worry. Reluctantly, she rose and shook out her skirts, brushing away the dirt. She descended much more quickly, but she had only reached the bottom when a crack of thunder signalled an impending storm.
She paused, wondering if she could reach the house, when an eerie feeling of being watched made her shiver. “Impossible,” she told herself. “The shooting and notes are making you fanciful! Besides, who would be out here now?”
The rain began to fall, and since the bath house was near, she sought refuge within its portals. Already soaked, she breathed a sigh of relief when she found the door unlocked.
Thrusting the door closed behind her, she leaned against it to catch her breath and was looking about to see if anyone was there when she heard the key turn in the door behind her.
“Wait! No! Someone is in here!” She beat upon the door, wishing she could see through it. Then she ran over to one of the windows, but the rain was falling too hard to make out more than distorted shapes. Fear and panic began to grip at her, and she ran back to the door to see if there was a key or any means of escape. Unfortunately there was no key to be found. Shaking with fear, Hope sank to the floor and began to cry. How long would it be until someone searched for her?
Lord Westwood’s brother,Major Ashley Stuart, and a few of his fellow soldiers arrived around noon, much to the delight of the house party guests.
Both Major Stuart and Captain Fielding were great favourites with the gentlemen and young ladies alike. They had both been an integral part of exposing the villain when the Whitford ladies had been in danger when they had first come to London.
In fact, Max wondered if he should not bring all the men together again to see if they could help ferret out the offender. First, though, he would consult with Westwood to see if he was considering any danger that might present. The only thing which sprang to mind was if the note was from one of them, but quickly dismissed the thought. Other than Captain Fielding, he’d known all of them since their young days at Eton and would swear to their innocence. But as Major Stuart and Captain Fielding had just arrived, neither of them could have written the notes.
The younger set was currently engrossed in a lively game of pall mall on the lawn, but he had not seen Hope again since that morning. Perhaps it would be wise to see if Lady Westwood had visited her recently. He would prefer to do so himself, but had to respect her wishes to stay away.
As he approached, he could hear the mallets striking the balls with vigour as each player attempted to demonstrate feats of skill. Shouts of triumph or groans of disappointment echoed the spirited competitiveness of the players. Much to his amusement, he found Lord and Lady Westwood in a heated competition, so he was forced to watch the end of the game before speaking with her. He had noticed that all the Whitford sisters were fiercecompetitors, and it was extremely amusing to watch his equally competitive best friend being so well matched.
Of course, the Duchess would say ladies of high breeding would never be so lively, but frankly, Max wanted a wife who wasn’t a dull dish.
Westwood had the last shot, and it was his to win or lose. If Max knew Westwood at all, he would knock his wife’s ball out of the way to win, which is exactly what he did. He held up his hands and mallet in victory to begrudging applause from his wife.
“I suppose you have to win on occasion,” she conceded in a teasing manner.
The look they exchanged was one of deep affection, and Max wanted that for himself. He wanted it with Hope.
“Rotham,” Westwood greeted him when he saw him standing there.
Max smiled at him, then turned towards Lady Westwood with a bow. “A well-fought match, but every now and then he will sneak a win in.”
“As long as it is not too often, sir.”
“Have you seen your sister recently?”
