“Well …”
“Grace was spotted kissing Lord Bartley in the garden,” Faith accused, rotating to her youngest sister. “Only the person who saw her assumed it was me.”
Hope’s mouth fell open.
“What?” she asked breathlessly. “Oh, Grace, you didn’t.”
“She did,” Faith said, her voice quietly furious. “And the Delaneys have publicly cut me! Mr. Delaney says he will not allow his family to be tied to a woman who would behave so wantonly.”
Hope turned toward her.
“You? But why would he assume you did it?”
“I’m guessing because it was some dark corner. How could they believe that it was me?”
Though their faces differed greatly, the Sharpes all shared the same dark, curly hair, and they were dressed similarly this evening. It would be easy to mistake one for the other in the shadows, especially when their backs were turned. But Hope frowned.
“That’s odd. The two ladies who just left here said thatIwas the one who was caught. They don’t know which one of us did it,” she said. Then she shook her head. “Though in the end, I don’t suppose it matters. Any scandal within the family will affect all of us.”
“Willruinall of us, you mean,” Faith said, glowering at Grace.
“That’s enough of that,” Hope said firmly. “None of us can change what happened. All we can do is weather the storm.”
“If I tell everyone it was me…” Grace began.
“It won’t matter. One sister disgraced means a whole family disgraced,” Faith pointed out, her voice heavy.
“But if you disown me, tell everyone how shocked you were at my behavior, maybe that will be enough to restore your reputations, at least partially—”
“No one is getting disowned,” Hope interrupted. “We’re a family, and we’re staying that way, no matter what anyone says. Now, let’s go out there and face them.”
Faith seemed hesitant, but peering back and forth between her sisters, she groaned. Her hands came up to the sides of her head, and she shook out her hairstyle as well.
“This will be a disaster,” she whined as Hope linked their arms together.
Hope held out her other arm to Grace, who looked at her sorrowfully.
“I’m so sorry, Hope,” Grace said, shaking her head. “I promise, I didn’t do it simply to ruin us.”
“Whatever you’re reasoning, my dear, this is our reality now. Come. We need to leave immediately.”
Grace hesitated a moment before reaching for Hope’s arm and clinging to her tightly. They would need to be each other’s strengths in the coming days.
They exited the powder room quickly, instantly observing the looks they received as they made their way down the hallway toward the foyer. It seemed everyone was eager to gawk at the trio as they hurried through the house to find the sleeping Mrs. Beesley. Before long, they were all out the door and, in their carriage heading home.
Upon arriving home, Hope noticed the doctor’s hackney outside, waiting in the street. Dread fell around her like a heavy cloak and she leapt from their carriage as soon as it stopped. She was through the front door, and up the stairs before her sisters could catch up with her.
Reaching her grandmother’s room, she found a line of servants all standing outside the matriarch’s room. Every one of them was crying.
Hope's heart beat wildly when Faith called up from the bottom of the staircase.
“Hope! Mr. Pennington has arrived!”
Confused and unbalanced, Hope tried to still her shaking hands. She was torn between the need to rush to her grandmother’s side and to see to Jacob. A maid, Ginger, came forward and curtsied, though her face was wet with tears.
“Begging your pardon, my lady,” she started. “But there’s no helping Lady Sharpe. She’s passed.”
The words didn’t register at first. Passed? No. Surely not. Devastation rolled through Hope even as she tried to push the notion away. Why would she say that? She can’t have passed.
