Since coming to live with their grandmother, neither Hope, Faith, nor Grace had ever known her to take ill. Even at the death of their parents, she had remained strong and undaunted, barely even shedding a tear, much less taking to her bed as some might have done. She was a woman of robust constitution, and none of the girls had ever seen her sneeze, let alone cough.
“I’m sorry, Grandmother,” Faith said earnestly. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
But her grandmother shook her head as the coughing fit subsided.
“It wasn’t your fault, dear,” she said with a scratchy voice between coughs. “It’s only a bit of tea I inhaled, I’m sure.”
Hope shared a concerned look with her sisters, and as much as she wanted to believe that it had been a random choking fit, an unnatural chill went through her. She had experienced it only once before—the day her parents had left on their trip to the south of France seven years prior. They died of cholera only a few weeks later. Hope never saw them again.
Once her grandmother recovered, Hope motioned for all of them to take their seats. She tried to convince herself that they were overreacting, but over the next few hours, the coughing persisted. By week’s end, their grandmother’s constant coughing had become a permanent echo throughout their home.
The doctor couldn’t find anything wrong with their grandmother and insisted that all she needed was rest. Over the next few weeks, Hope tried her best to believe the doctor’s diagnosis, but by the time the soiree for Lady Natalie had arrived, she could no longer maintain her positive attitude. Sherefused to attend the ball, wanting rather to stay at home with her grandmother.
“You must go,” her grandmother had ordered between coughs. Her pale eyes seemed dull and watery, though her raspy voice was insistent. “You must.”
“But Grandmother—”
“Don’t…” she said, coughing roughly into her clenched hand, “…argue. Mrs. Beesley will accompany you.”
“Mrs. Beesley? But Grandmother, she is close to senile. She couldn’t possibly escort us.”
“Hope,” Alice said sternly, causing all fight to go out of her.
Seeing that her quarreling only upset her grandmother, Hope nodded.
“Yes ma’am,” she said, squeezing her grandmother’s hand before leaving to get dressed.
Determined to appease her grandmother, Hope dressed in her best pale green gown, snaking a matching ribbon through her curly, raven hair. Their impromptu chaperone Mrs. Beesley, whose hearing had diminished drastically in recent months, arrived to escort them, and she ushered Hope and her younger sisters into the hired coach to take them to the ball.
Upon arriving at the Duchess of Spotsmore’s home, Mrs. Beesley quickly found the sitting room, where she promptly sat down to nap. Hope was then abandoned immediately by Grace, who eagerly left to visit with her friends. Before Faith could wander off as well, Hope reached for her sister’s elbow and leaned close to her ear as she spoke.
“It doesn’t feel right being here, does it? What with Grandmother sick and all.”
“She’ll be fine, Hope. And you know she would want us to be sociable.”
Hope gave her a pointed look, knowing very well her sister was trying to placate her. Faith was on her tippytoes, peering over the other guests, looking for someone in particular, prompting Hope to say something.
“You should be wary of dancing too much with your Mr. Delaney, Faith,” she said as they moved out of the sitting room together. “He’s garnering a reputation.”
Faith rolled her eyes.
“From who?”
“It was in the gossip pages in theTimesthe day before last.”
Faith gently pulled her arm out of her sister’s grip.
“I assure you, Hope, that if Mr. Delaney is gaining a reputation, it’s not from the like of me,” she said, scanning the ballroom. “Besides, he’s been helping me with my watercolors.”
Mr. Delaney was one of several artist friends that Faith had become close with over the past year. Faith had always loved the art of painting but had given it up a year ago after experiencing a heartbreak. She had fancied herself in love with an artist known singularly as Donovan, and when he’d disappeared months ago, Faith had lost all interest in painting. Thankfully, she had recently started to spend time with her friend, Renee, Mr. Delaney’s sister, and once a week, Faith would attend a painting lesson at the Delaney home. Hope was happy that she had recently returned to her passion, but she worried that Mr. Delaney would break her sister’s heart, just as Donovan had.
“Still, you shouldn’t spend too much time in his company.”
Faith was barely listening, focusing instead on scanning the crowd. Someone must have caught her attention, for her eyes lit up. She gave a little wave.
“There he is. And Renee is with him.”
“Do be careful, Faith.”
