She gave him a hesitant nod.
He continued. ‘Given certain things that have occurred between us, I understand that you may not wish to offer a favourable reference for my services. But do not concern yourself that any part of this incident will come back to you as gossip. I was hired for my discretion. No word of it shall ever pass my lips. And if you need them in the future, do not hesitate to call on me.’
The words spooled out of him, as they always did, like the final lines of an actor exiting the stage. With minor variations, it was the same speech he always gave when the job was finished and there was nothing left to do but collect his payment and move on. He delivered them with the same patent smile he had given her on the first day, the one he used on strangers.
This was the moment when his clients often thanked him. The words were almost as gratifying as the money. They would have been even more so today. He needed some small scrap of assurance that what had happened between them was something profound and not the dream it had begun to feel like. But Hope Strickland had mastered the art of ignoring the obvious long before he’d met her. Why should she admit to feelings that would prove inconvenient in the future?
He turned to go, then paused, his hand on the door handle, and turned back to her, unable to resist one more look, one last attempt to repair the damage he had done by falling in love with her. ‘Do not believe what you have been told about the fragility of a lady’s honour. Any man who deserves your love will not fault you for your past, should you decide to admit to one. You are an extraordinary woman, Miss Strickland. I wish you well.’
Then, he crossed the threshold, closed the door and was alone again.
Chapter Eighteen
Hope sat at the table in the kitchen with a pot of paste and small brush, surrounded by uneven shards of china. It was fortunate that the pieces were large. There did not seem to be any missing. Her makeshift repair would do until the vase could be properly restored.
Of course, if what Gregory said was true, there would never be a time when that could be done. A single failed crop or bad storm could impoverish the tenants and take the estate down with them. Her cousin would have far worse things to worry about than a broken pot.
Still, she could not help trying. That was what the Strickland sisters did, after all. They made the best of what was given to them. They did not give up when things looked hopeless. They soldiered on without cutting corners or breaking rules.
According to Charity that made her tedious and impossible to live with. Was that how she had seemed to Gregory? Perhaps if she had been more reasonable from the beginning he’d have courted her as other gentlemen did, dancing at balls and flirting politely.
And she’d have ignored him. For all she knew, they could have met months ago, if she’d had eyes for anyone but the man coming from America. If she had been honest about the diamonds, with him, or with Charity, she’d have learned the truth earlier and made different choices. She’d made things worse by assuming she could handle everything alone.
Had things been different, she might have accepted his offer. She was sure that was what he had been attempting to do in the carriage. She loved him, of course. But love was not all that mattered.
When she had gone to his room, she’d assumed that the financial problems the family faced would be solved with the appearance of the Earl. The loss of the diamonds would be embarrassing, but not critical. Comstock might be placated and allowances would be restored.
But the family problems were even worse than she had imagined. She could not simply walk away and abandon Charity and Grandmama to poverty. Nor did it seem right to leave Miles Strickland. Whatever he had been expecting when he had crossed the ocean to take his rightful place, it could not have been what he had got. She could not love him, for Hope doubted it was possible to love two men at once. And try as she might, she loved Gregory just as much as she had, that night in the manor. But she owed Mr Strickland some part of her affection, if only because of their shared heritage.
Grandmama had hinted that their American cousin wished to make an offer. He needed someone who knew the details of the estate and understood how to be a countess. She would be that for him, if he needed her to. As long as she kept her heart to herself and did not wear the Comstock diamonds, everything would be fine. Not happy, of course. But she must not let personal happiness stand in the way of the natural order of things.
From the corridor to the muddy back garden came the sound of singing and the happy clopping of the Dowager’s pattens on the tile floor.
Hope set the brush aside and listened. She had not heard Grandmama singing since before Grandfather had died. As usual, the woman’s mirth was ill timed, but Hope would not begrudge her a moment of it.
The Dowager swept into the room and dropped on to the fireside bench to remove her wooden overshoes. ‘My dear Hope, why are you wasting time inside when the robins are singing in the trees and the air is as crisp as a summer apple?’ But all movement stopped when she saw the broken vase. ‘Good heavens. Whatever are you doing with that?’
‘Trying to repair it,’ Hope said. Just as she had been trying and failing to fix everything else about the family for the better part of the month. Even though no one had asked her to. Nor had they welcomed her help.
Nor was she appreciated today. ‘Do not be silly, Hope. We no longer have to bother with such things. It is Comstock’s vase, now. Let him be the one to mend it.’
‘It is not fair that he should be left to solve problems we created,’ Hope said, automatically. Did she always sound so tiresome?
‘Solving problems created by others is the stock and trade of the peerage,’ her grandmother replied. ‘If it is not the Crown, it is the tenants. If it is not the tenants, it is the family. It is always something, my dear.’ She thought for a moment. ‘The new Comstock will have to be rather like your Mr Drake.’
‘He is not my Mr Drake,’ Hope said hurriedly.
But the Dowager ignored her and continued. ‘But I suspect Mr Drake is better paid and sleeps more soundly at night. You chose well.’
‘I did not choose him,’ she said glumly. Not even when he had given her a second chance to do so.
‘Then you should be glad he chose you. If I had picked a different husband, I might have had a much easier life, but it would not have been as happy. I loved your grandfather quite fiercely and he loved me in return. The burden of being Comstock was easier because we shared it.’
‘I thought you were happy.’ Was nothing as she thought it had been?
Her grandmother touched the locket at her throat that held a tiny braid of her husband’s hair. ‘I was as happy as it was possible to be given the truth of our circumstances.’
‘Gregory... I mean, Mr Drake says that we are poor.’ She’d said it in a whisper, for it seemed as if, spoken aloud, it would suddenly become true.
