Page 6 of Finding Hope
The formal garden was lined with yew trees that had been shaped into ovals, surrounding a large fountain as the centrepiece. Flowering hedges formed the outer boundaries with plane and oak trees for shade, while blooms of lavender and rose filled the air with their perfume. Their bright colours danced gaily before the sombre green of the hedge.
Hope was trying to put a sunny smile on her face, but she felt only melancholy. Her best friend and sister was married and gone, and Rotham, whose friendship she had taken for granted when he was escorting her everywhere for her safety, now appeared to be unattainable. Why had he never mentioned he was already betrothed?
Not only had she lost a friend, she had also foolishly allowed herself to become enamoured with him. Had his seeming interest in her only been feigned or due to proximity?
“Welcome!” Freddy Cunningham said warmly when he saw them arrive. “Did Miss Joy not come?” He looked and sounded disappointed.
“I am afraid not. She thought seeing everyone else enjoying themselves would be too much temptation.”
“I’d have thought she would enjoy the sunshine and the company.” He frowned.
“Perhaps it is too soon. Besides, Westwood’s chef promised her some pastries, and the governess was to entertain her with some letters of Frances Burney.”
“I pray that is all it is. Have you met my sister?”
“I have had the pleasure,” Hope replied, turning to the young lady who had joined them. “How do you do?”
“I am so glad you could join us, Miss Whitford,” she said with a kind smile.
“We were pleased to come. Your home and garden are lovely.”
Mr. Cunningham introduced his sister to Patience and Grace, with whom she was of an age. They seemed to take to each other immediately, and began giggling about something.
Hope began to feel ancient, and wondered if she’d ever been that young. Miss Cunningham seemed so very young and innocent—the very opposite of Lord Rotham. He would eat her alive or be bored to tears by her. He needed someone who could keep his interest. Yet, that was not to be Hope. It chafed that she was not thought to be good enough for the likes of a future duke, but that was the way of the world, and she did not wish to be the cause of any strife or viewed as an object of disdain by his family. Hope had always borne this strong need to be liked. Perhaps it came with being the second child and one of many siblings, yet she did not detect this weakness in any of her sisters.
It was hard not to think about what Lord Carew had said about wanting what was unattainable. She certainly felt that effect on herself. However, she had to behave indifferently for her own protection. What was the distinction between indifference and coldness, though? After he’d protected her and been her friend, she owed Rotham better than that. She’d heardsome say that men and women could not be just friends. It was not always true, certainly, but it could be more difficult.
Hope knew the moment he arrived. The hairs on her arms and neck seemed to prickle with awareness. Instead of looking for him, she searched for Lord Carew, who, when her eyes met his, smiled at her with amusement.
He began walking towards her. “Do you have need of me, Miss Whitford?”
She put her chin up in the air, offended that she had been called out. “I did no such thing, but now that you are here, you can be useful.”
“At your service, of course. Are we pretending indifference?”
She tilted her head and pursed her lips. “I was trying to decide how to accomplish indifference while remaining friendly. Is such a thing possible? He did do me and my sisters a great service. All of you did.”
He inclined his head. “I do not think you need to be uncivil or cold, but do not go out of your way. Make him come to you.”
“But how do I behave when I am with him?”
“Treat him like you treat me. Although you should not pretend to be indifferent with me,” he added.
“This is terribly confusing. I do not think I can do it. Besides, what is the point if he is promised to someone else?” she asked as much to herself as to Carew.
“Smile, my dear. He is walking this way.”
Hope immediately felt very conscious of Rotham’s presence and their changed situation. For once, she did not know how to act. It was distinctly uncomfortable to know that his friendship and proximity were no longer hers to command.
Just as he reached them, Hope saw the Duchess watching from across the garden, and that made her spine stiffen. She greeted Rotham with more coolness than she had intended.
“Carew, Miss Whitford,” he said with an easy smile. Rotham was looking more dark and dangerous than usual, which only made Hope want him more. But she knew better than to throw herself at his feet. She would not demean herself so—especially in front of the Duchess.
“Lord Rotham.” She inclined her head. Should it be a small comfort that he had greeted her before Miss Cunningham?
A waiter walked by with glasses of punch and champagne, and Rotham took one and offered it to her.
“Thank you,” she muttered as she accepted it, but could think of nothing else to say.
