Forsaking Hope (Fair Cyprians of London 2)

Mrs Merriweather, at whom he’d directed his query, glanced at Lady Hunt who said, “The nephew of the family to whom she went as governess two years ago.” Smiling at her companion, she added, “I told Margaret it was a wonderful opportunity for Hope, and so it has proven to be.”

Felix glanced at Charlotte, who looked nonplussed but said nothing, and then Lord Hartley turned the subject by inviting her onto the dance floor, and the party broke up.

Felix felt it was appropriate to invite his betrothed onto the dance floor also, as he needed the exertion of some energetic waltzing if only to give his mind free rein. Making small talk with Annabelle would be excruciating, but fortunately the fast pace of this waltz would preclude that.

He needed to sort through his head all the conflicting information he’d learnt in such a short time. Not that he’d learnt much. He’d only been presented with unexplained anomali

es.

Miss Charlotte had had only questions that he could not answer and which, indirectly, he’d asked Mrs Merriweather, who’d, in turn, directed them to Lady Hunt.

Felix had a dozen more questions though clearly he was going to get only lies if he asked directly.

He wondered what Annabelle knew of the clandestine affair between Hope and her brother. And how long had it been going on? Had Hope eloped with Wilfred before she was due to meet Felix at the church and then discovered she’d not chosen the better man, hence her letter begging for rescue and forgiveness?

“My, Felix, but you’re a superb dancer,” Annabelle told him, laughing at the pleasurable exertion as he led her off the dance floor a few minutes later. Her face was flushed and her eyes sparkled as she squeezed his arm. “I know you must be bored hearing it, but you truly have made me the happiest girl in all the land.”

He had to go carefully. It would not do to burst her excited bubble. Annabelle, for all her generally equable nature, could sulk and rage, he knew from having known her since she was in the cradle. Not that they’d had very much to do with one another until she was a young woman assessing the local talent in the district before being prepared for her London debut. He wondered why she hadn’t made more of her opportunities for snaring any number of the eligible and far more illustrious catches she could have made.

Felix forced a smile as he made an expansive gesture with one arm. The other was being tightly clung to by Annabelle.

“And you are a butterfly amidst the throng. Young and beautiful. Why choose me?”

She looked coy. “Why, you chose me, Felix.”

“But you could have made any number of wonderful matches during the last two years.” He plucked two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed her one. “I often wondered why you didn’t marry in your first season out. Or your second.”

Annabelle took a sip, staring at him over the rim. “I was waiting for you,” she said softly.

He gave a nervous laugh. “Me? Why, I’m hardly the greatest catch in this room. Granted, there are many mamas who would have welcomed me as a suitor in the local district but you, Annabelle, could have done so much better.”

“I knew from the moment I turned twelve years old that I wanted only you, Felix. And now my patience has paid off.”

He repressed a shudder as she went on, “I remember the first local ball I attended. I hadn’t come out yet, but Mama let me go so I could get my feet wet, as they say.” She smiled. “You were the very first gentleman who asked me to dance, and when you put your hands on my waist and twirled me round the room, I knew I need look no further for my husband. I’d known you since I was a little girl, Felix, but here you were, a handsome, grown-up gentleman, down from Cambridge, and my Prince Charming. You danced with me three times that night, and when I got home, I told Mama I would save them the expense of a London season because the husband I wanted lived in the large house on top the hill.”

“Waiting patiently for me to settle down, eh, and realise at last that I needed a wife?”

She put her head on one side, paused, then said under her breath, “Yes, once you’d got over your obsession with Hope Merriweather.”

He felt her words like a knife and winced.

Perhaps she didn’t notice for she went on, “That wild girl was the despair of her mama and papa. Her behaviour was scandalous—”

“Was it? I don’t recall that.” Nor did he. Yes, Hope was spirited and loved to ride fast and to run about the neighbourhood without restraint, but was that really wild? He’d done the same when he was a lad.

Annabelle’s nostrils flared. She glanced about the room then back at Felix. “I know the local ladies decided she should not be invited to the local entertainments because she was a corrupting influence on the rest of us.”

“Poor Miss Merriweather. That must have been hard.”

“And wasn’t that confirmed when she rode so boldly right into the Hunt! The ladies were scandalised. Her mama was mortified, but Hope wouldn’t listen to anyone, and she rode with the rest of them as if she were…one of the men!”

Felix stared through the girl speaking as he remembered his impressions of Hope joining them so confidently, horses and hounds making way for the fine figure she cut. So young. So defiant. The gentlemen hadn’t seemed to mind. In fact, some of them had applauded her for her spirit.

And she certainly hadn’t seemed like one of the men when she’d fallen from her horse, and he’d nearly kissed her. But Annabelle would remember that.

“You rode too, Annabelle, if you recall. You joined us just after Hope fell from her horse.”

Annabelle sent him a suspicious glance. “I went for a gentle canter. I did not join the Hunt, but I came upon the two of you, as you no doubt recall.”