Trusting Lady Hemmingway (The King's League)

“I see,” Robert murmured, the gloves beginning to fade from his thoughts as he took a couple of steps closer to her. He wanted to find a way to comfort her, wanted to bring her relief from her pain and her agony but knew that there was nothing he could do save to offer her his sympathies. “There is great strength in you, Miss Hemmingway, coming to me with this as you have done.”

This appeared to be the wrong thing to say, for Miss Hemmingway covered her face with her hands and burst into tears, sinking down onto the window seat as her shoulders shook with all the emotion that crashed through her. Robert did not know what to do, looking at her with a mixture of confusion and sympathy, feeling anything he wanted to say die on his lips every time she sobbed.

In the end, he merely came down to sit beside her. He could not imagine what it was like for her to have a brother in so much trouble. To know that it appeared as though he were involved in something that had injured one of the League’s men, and to have now killed another, must be a very difficult burden to bear indeed. This was her brother, the gentleman who carried the title, the fortune and the well-being of her family. The strength within her was far more than he had ever expected and there was now an admiration for her courage, especially in the face of such a difficult trial.

“What am I to do?”

Her despairing question bit at his soul and he could not answer her. She had done her best to give her brother the opportunity to seek her help, to be honest with her about what he was struggling with, but he had evidently thrown back such an offer without hesitation.

“There is still a part of me that wants to believe he is being pulled into this against his will,” Miss Hemmingway continued, when he said nothing, her tears beginning to abate. “I saw him speaking to another gentleman—a Mr. Ashton?” She frowned, then shook her head, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “Mr. Astor, in fact,” she said, with a little more certainty. “I watched my brother for a time and saw him shirk away from this fellow.” She swallowed hard, closing her eyes as her chin wobbled. “But then, thereafter, Hamilton spoke to me with such callousness that I believed myself to have been entirely mistaken!”

Robert frowned, thinking about what she had said. As much as he wanted to encourage her, he did not want to give her any sort of false hope—and yet, there was the fact that her brother might have been putting on a bold, brash presence in order to protect her.

“Tell me about this Mr. Astor,” he said, softly. “You say you saw him talking to your brother?”

Miss Hemmingway frowned at him, then nodded. “He appeared to be quite intimidating, given that my brother bent his head away from him,” she said, softly, her cheeks still pale. “And when I went to seek an introduction, my brother seemed to be doing all he could to ensure that I did not linger near to himself and this gentleman.” She shook her head, before throwing a slightly guilty look towards him. “I insisted, of course.”

He could not help but chuckle. “I am aware of your leaning towards tenacity,” he said, glad that her tears had stopped. “And be aware that I admire it, Miss Hemmingway. Truly, I do.”

A small smile lifted her lips, sitting back a little more as a long breath escaped her. “You are one of the few who holds that view, Lord Franks,” she told him, honestly. “Regardless, Mr. Astor was introduced but I got to know very little about him.” One shoulder lifted. “My brother insisted that he and I take to the dance floor, which was when I noted the absence of his gloves.”

Letting out his breath slowly, Robert frowned and tried to think what would be best to do. “I am to speak to the rest of the League this evening,” he said, looking towards her. “I think it would be best if you were able to attend, Miss Hemmingway.”

Her eyes flared wide.

“It is best that they hear it all from you,” he told her, firmly. “Before we decide what must be done.”

Slowly, she began to nod, her eyes darkening with tears once more. “And do you still wish to visit me this afternoon?”

For a moment, he did not quite understand what she meant, only to recall that he had made arrangements to call upon her and to look through her brother’s study for any places where he might have something hidden.

“Your brother will be absent?”

She nodded. “My mother was due to take a walk with Lady Arbuckle but is still troubled with a headache,” she said, with a small shrug. “She will remain abed, I fear. My maid will remain with me but my brother has already stated that he is to go out to Hyde Park this afternoon, for the fashionable hour. Lady Callander is to call to visit me, however, as I believe I mentioned before.”

“Then I should be glad to keep to my intended visit,” he told her, seeing the grateful expression on her face as he reached out and took her hand. “I am sorry for the difficulties that you have found at present, Miss Hemmingway. Would that I could bring it all to a swift end for you, but I fear that it may be some time yet and that the conclusion itself might be very painful indeed.”

Her fingers tightened on his, her eyes fixed upon his own. She said nothing for some moments as the air seemed to grow thick about them, his breathing becoming a little ragged. There was something wonderful between them now, something astonishing and glorious that took the sting of his pain away.

“You have endured a great deal also,” she murmured, no tears lingering in her eyes any longer. “How does Lord Caravel fare?”

He looked away sharply, feeling a fresh stab of pain.

“Oh, how dreadful,” Miss Hemmingway whispered, her other hand now atop of their joined ones. “I am truly sorry, Lord Franks.”

Nodding, he managed to look back at her. “His injuries were very grievous indeed,” he told her, his breathing a little tight. “The horse was spooked by something, according to a street urchin who saw it occur.” Closing his eyes, he fought to keep his emotions under control. “The doctor said his skull had been too badly damaged for him to ever fully recover anyway. He died shortly after I arrived. Lord Millerton has taken it very badly indeed, which has made him step back slightly from his recovery.”

Miss Hemmingway said nothing but leaned into him, her shoulder pressed against his. Keeping his eyes closed, Robert sat quietly, simply taking in all that had been said between them, all that had been spoken. He felt as though Miss Hemmingway knew the depths of his pain and could offer him the compassion and comfort that he needed. In return, he leaned back into her, knowing just how much she was struggling with her situation also. They rested there together, wrapped in companionable silence, each feeling as though this was precisely where they belonged.

“Lord Franks, I…..” Miss Hemmingway’s voice was soft, barely loud enough for him to hear. “I want to thank you for your willingness to trust me.”

His lips curved into a half smile. “Of course, Miss Hemmingway,” he told her, quietly. “It seems my instincts did not let me down on this occasion.” Feeling her lift her head slightly, just so that she could look at him a little more, he turned his head a fraction. “Trusting you appears to be have been a very wise choice, Miss Hemmingway, even if it has brought difficulties to you.”

She did not smile but rather looked at him with a steady gaze. “I do not fear telling you the truth about what I have discovered,” she answered, blessing him with her words. “For I believe that you are a man worthy of my trust.”

“That is kind of you to say,” he told her, a little overwhelmed by all that he now felt for the lady. “I have made some grave mistakes these last few weeks, I know. If anything were to happen to Lord Millerton now, after he has already endured so much, I do not know what I should do.” Aware that he was feeling rather sorry for himself, Robert tried to haul himself out of the pit of despair he was beginning to sink into. “But a gentleman of the League always strives for completeness,” he told her, as muc

h as he told himself. “To bring the guilty to justice, to rid the country of the enemies that threaten.” Sighing, he squeezed her hand. “And to find hope in the midst of what can often be an overwhelming darkness.”