Forsaking Hope (Fair Cyprians of London 2)

Felix fixed the young man with a steely stare. “Just between you and me, my friend, I shall offer you the truth before I concoct the story the court needs to hear.” He reached out one arm to draw Millament aside. “The truth is, I killed the man who kidnapped the woman I’d always intended marrying; the man who stole her virtue when he raped her, who then sold her to a brothel, and, because he was drunk on the power he had over her, proceeded to blackmail her so that not one shred of her dignity remained.” Felix took Hope’s wrist, but she resisted when he tried to put his arm about her.

“You can’t do this, Felix,” she whispered. “You can’t destroy your life because of me. Mine is already worth nothing. Don’t sacrifice yours for nothing.”

“For nothing?” He’d never felt more convinced of the rightness of his actions.

“It’s too big a gamble,” she said urgently. “You may think you’re being noble now, but you won’t when your life is hanging in the balance. Please, Felix”

They heard more footsteps. Felix dipped his head to Hope’s ear. “Don’t refute what I say. I have a chance of being exonerated if I claim responsibility. You don’t!”

“You can’t, Felix!”

“Why did you not contact me when Wilfred held you against your will? Or when he came back to blackmail you? Why? Was it because you thought my sense of propriety would be offended? That I’d consider your actions so dishonourable? Well, I am that man of honour you believed me to be, and I will not see a travesty of justice condemn you to death.” He turned to Millament, his heart racing, never more desirous of his friend’s acquiescence. “Promise that you’ll agree with everything I say! And promise me that you’ll ensure that Hope is safe. She must leave this house now. I don’t want there to be any association made between her and Hunt. Not ever, and certainly not until long after her sister weds Lord Hartley on Saturday.”

“Hope’s sister is to wed Lord Hartley?” Millament swayed with astonishment.

“Hope Merriweather left England for Germany to be a governess. At least, that’s what everyone thought. However, before she even made it onto the train she was kidnapped by this man…” Felix indicated Wilfred with a scornful nod, “and sold to Madame Chambon. That is the truth. We will, however, adhere to the fiction that Hope has, in fact, spent the last two years in Leipzig, and that she was, only this afternoon, greeted off the boat by Hunt who took her here, to this house, against her will, where I found her and defended her honour. In no way must her good name be compromised.”

“Impossible!” Millament shook his head, his horror having turned to measured concern. “Felix, I want to help you, but it’s impossible. Why, half the men in this room have slept with the woman you claim is as pure as the driven snow. Beg pardon, Miss Merriweather, but we’re speaking facts.”

“It can be done,” Felix insisted. He would not be dissuaded now. He pushed Hope towards his friend. “Take her away. Quickly! I’ll deal with this. Our first task is to keep her name out of the newspapers until her sister is

married tomorrow. No mention of her identity, and remember, I have spoken only to you about that because I trust you, and you are the only one who can help us now. I’ll worry about the rest later.”

Chapter 15

18 months later

“Goodness, darling! You’ll never believe it!” Hope couldn’t keep the shock from her tone as she stabbed her finger on the article in The Times.

Felix looked up enquiringly from where he was eating his breakfast at the table opposite.

“Miss Annabelle Hunt is to marry Lord Westfall.”

Felix stood up and went round behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder as he read aloud the news and Hope twisted to look at him, smiling as she gazed out at the snow-capped mountains while Felix read aloud the words, and the past flooded back.

“Well, provided nothing happened to prevent it, they’re already happily wedded,” Felix said, pointing to the date.

Two months prior. Although it took a long time for London newspapers to reach the Black Forest, this one must have been unusually delayed.

“Are you all right, my love?” Felix murmured, in that concerned, reassuring way of his that had been so hard to get used to. Not that he mollycoddled her. Hope had made sure he didn’t do that for long. But, for as long as she could remember, no one had concerned themselves about Hope unless it was to further their own ends.

She nodded.

“And baby’s doing well?” Gently he placed his hand upon her belly, not yet showing, but occupied by a growing little being that had, declared Felix, added a layer of joy to his life he could barely credit.

“Baby’s doing very well. And so is its mother.” Hope twined her hands behind Felix’s neck and brought his face down for her kiss.

They were interrupted by the arrival of the parlourmaid carrying a silver salver with several letters bearing London postmarks. Hope straightened, thanking then dismissing the servant. She had taken well to being mistress of her own household and every day basked in the relief that her past was not about to destroy the happiness she’d found with her new husband.

“One for each of us, including news from Charlotte!” she cried happily, bending over Felix to reach for a knife to slit the envelope, then unfolding the parchment. “Oh, and she’s having another baby!” she added when she’d scanned the page. “I wish I could see her children. And Charlotte. It’s been nearly four years.”

“Would you really?”

“Of course, I would!”

“I mean, would you really want to go back to England? With all its dangers?” Felix tapped the letter he’d just read. “It’s an invitation from the London Literary Society to speak about On Her Majesty’s Service.”

Felix had not idled his time away in their mountain eyrie. In between loving Hope, he’d penned an exciting spy novel which had started life as a distraction when he refused to return to England without his darling wife.