‘Hope, we’re a collection of misfits and society outsiders,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Please don’t give your pregnancy or lack of a husband a second thought, because we certainly won’t.’ Her smile told Hope that her words were said with kindness.
‘One of the reasons we’re such good friends is that we come together for fun, not judgement,’ Peter said, leaning in as someone else burst through the front door with a bottle of champagne in hand. ‘You’ll come to love us once you know us, although it could be said that we’re an acquired taste.’
‘We’re an eclectic mix of spinsters and old bachelors,’ Elizabeth said with a laugh, as Charles left Hope’s side to greet the new guest, with kisses to each cheek. ‘I’ve never wanted to get married, but I found this lot to be myself with.’
‘The truth is that I never wanted to marry, either,’ Hope told her. ‘Until I met Gus.’
Elizabeth linked her arm through Hope’s and they walked slowly through to the dining room.
‘The difference, my dear, is that you chose your Gus. I imagine before that you were being told who you were supposed to marry.’ One eyebrow rose in question as she seemed to study Hope’s face.
Hope nodded in reply. How right she was.
‘It’s all in the choosing,’ Elizabeth sighed after she spoke. ‘But we shall meet your Gus soon enough, I should hope?’
‘I hope you will, too,’ she murmured. ‘Charles has been so kind to me, but?—’
‘Is she worrying about being an imposition again?’ It was Charles who interrupted her.
‘Yes, my darling, I fear she is. She has no idea what a joy it is to have someone new join our little dinner party.’
Before she could reply, Hope found herself blushing when the new arrival announced himself as Michael and clapped his hand to his heart.
‘Well, you could have at least warned us that she was so beautiful,’ he said, as Charles began to pour champagne and pass around the glasses.
Everyone began talking to one another then, the room eventually full of six guests, and Hope stood by the wall and smiled as she watched them all chat and laugh and tease as they sipped from their champagne flutes. She couldn’t help but think how much they seemed like a family; an eclectic, unexpected mix of people who looked so at ease with one another.
And it struck her that, despite her obvious predicament, not one of them seemed to care about her bulging stomach and lack of husband. Which only made the decision she was wrestling with all the more difficult.
Later that night, long after everyone had gone and Hope and Charles were sitting with mugs of hot chocolate after finishing the washing-up, she finally said what she’d been thinking.
‘Charles, your friends were so accepting of me,’ she started, trying to find the right words. ‘I loved them, each and every one of them.’
‘They’re the closest I’ve had to family in a very long time, and they’ve been so looking forward to meeting you,’ he said. ‘Nothing makes me happier than knowing that you enjoyed their company.’
‘I just keep wondering about them. Have they all been cast aside by their birth families? Are you all one another has?’
His smile was small, but it was there. ‘It took us all a long while to accept our fate, but the truth is, we’re each of us very different from our families, and sometimes it’s easier to carve out a new life. With a found family.’
Hope nodded. She understood what he was saying more than many would, even if the reasons they were estranged were different.
‘Hope, many years ago, I was very much in love. It was one of the reasons I left France, and I suppose it’s also the reason I never returned.’
She swallowed, listening to him carefully, feeling that he was about to tell her something that would only make her care for him all the more.
‘Your family knew about this person?’
‘They suspected who I was, even though I was so careful to keep my feelings hidden,’ he said, setting down his still-steaming mug. ‘We were young and believed that we could run away and start a life somewhere else, that things could be different, but the world wasn’t ready for us. And it turned out that George wasn’t prepared to live his life as an outcast with me.’
Hope nodded, understanding what he was telling her. ‘Did he return to his family?’
Tears glistened in Charles’s eyes. ‘He did, and he married a nice woman and went on to have four children with her. He chose to return to the life he was supposed to have, not the one he wanted.’
Hope’s own eyes prickled then, feeling the pain in her uncle’s words.
‘For a long time, he sent me a Christmas card every year. Once I even saw him, here in London,’ Charles said. ‘We stopped and stared, and for a moment I thought he might have introduced me to his wife, but instead he ushered her past me and pretended he hadn’t even seen me.’
‘Oh, Charles, I’m so sorry,’ she whispered, imagining his heartache—imagining if that had been her Gus doing the same.
