Her grandmother laughed. ‘Poor as church mice, my dear. Albeit, mice that live in a cathedral and not some small country parish. The Comstock earldom has not had two coins to scratch together since your grandfather was a lad. It is why there was no settlement to provide for us, once he died. There was nothing left to give us.’
‘Why did you not tell us?’ Hope said, shaking her head.
‘What could you have done, other than to marry well and escape? Faith has done so already. Soon, you will be gone as well. If I’d told either of you, you’d have thought it necessary to stay together for the good of the family.’
‘And for Charity,’ Hope reminded her.
‘As she has been telling you for years, Charity can manage for herself,’ the Dowager replied. ‘It is time you listened to her. But you and Faith needed a push to leave the nest and I provided it.’
‘You sold these things for us,’ Hope said, touching the broken pot in front of her.
‘I could not send you to Almack’s in a borrowed gown,’ the old woman said in a reasonable tone. ‘I took the least of what we had to shops where no one would ever see it again. It was just barely enough to launch you all and keep meat on the table.’
Hope reached out and took her hand. ‘We never knew.’ Or perhaps she did know. She just hadn’t understood.
Her grandmother’s answering smile said that she had understood for both of them. ‘Do not worry about the past. The new Earl has come now and I shall finally be free.’
‘Free?’ Hope whispered, confused.
‘Free of the houses, the debts and the worry. Of trying to make something out of nothing, all the while pretending that we were happy for the honour. And free of the guilt over those ridiculous diamonds.’
‘You should not have let me badger you over them. Why could you not tell me the truth of that, at least?’
‘Tell you the biggest secret of the Comstocks?’ She shook her head and laid a finger on her lips. ‘Only the Earl and Countess know the truth and they pass it to the next generation. Of course, that means that each Countess must wear a paste tiara with a smile on her face and pretend that nothing is the matter. I wore select pieces on special occasions in the darkest of venues. But each time I did I was in agony that someone would guess the truth.’
‘How will we ever tell Miles Strickland?’ she asked.
‘We do not have to. I already did. I blurted it out the minute we were alone together.’ The Dowager fanned herself with a hand and sighed as a woman did when removing stays that had been laced tight for hours. ‘He was very nice about it, all things considered. He arranged for a settlement for me and promised me the use of the dower house, if it can be repaired sufficiently to be habitable.’
‘That was very kind of him,’ Hope said.
‘Too kind, I think.’ She smiled sadly. ‘He underestimates how much money will be needed to fix the place. It will be far less expensive if I take his allowance and live abroad.’ If the old woman had been happy before, now she was overjoyed. ‘I shall go to Paris, perhaps. Or Rome. For the first time in years, I shall see something other than a London Season. And no one shall require me to keep up appearances.’
Hope winced and looked down at her stinging hand. She still held a piece of the vase and a drop of blood was forming on the pad of her finger where she’d gripped it along the sharp edge.
Her grandmother reached out and took it from her, offering a handkerchief in its stead. ‘You girls will do as you want, for you were never ones to listen. But you will be better off if you do not try to fix things that cannot be mended. Let it all go and you will be happier for it.’ She held the piece of vase out over the tiles and released it.
Hope gasped again, as the perfectly mendable scrap shattered to slivers so small there would be no hope of putting them together again.
The Dowager wiped her hands together as if satisfied with a job well done. ‘Sometimes it is not the clean break that saves us. Life is messy, Hope. Embrace it.’
‘But what about Charity?’ she said again.
The Dowager gave another shake of her head. ‘I have never met a girl so capable of fending for herself.’
Everything had been done. There were no secrets to hide from or reveal to Comstock. Grandmama did not need her help. In fact, she was so eager to leave her grown granddaughters to their own devices that she could not contain her excitement. And when it came to being ruled over and lectured by an older sister, Charity had made her opinion quite clear.
Hope was not wanted. She was not needed.
Not in this family, at least. There was still someone who had loved her, had needed her and still might have her if she could unbend enough to ask for his forgiveness. But to go to him, she would have to let go of the past.
Without another word, Hope grabbed a piece of the vase, closed her eyes, dashed it to the ground and listened to it shatter. Then, she fumbled on the table, found another piece and sent it after the first, savouring that crash as well. This time, she opened her eyes, reached out her arm and swept the remaining pieces to the floor. Perhaps she was still not brave enough to look at the disaster at her feet. But the sound echoed in her heart, like the clank of falling shackles.
Her grandmother was right. Freedom was sweet.
Chapter Nineteen
Now that she was decided, Hope did not bother with pattens or cloak and bonnet. She did not even bother to clean up the mess she’d made by throwing china on the floor. Instead, she shouted an apology to the maids in the kitchen and rushed out the door.
