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Authors: Catherine Winchester

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BOOK: Degrees of Hope
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He came to realise that most of the women he had met in his life had been of his class, which is to say, educated to a basic level, then taught only subjects that would make then seem 'accomplished' to a potential suitor. If they had opinions, they didn't venture them and if they showed any interest in an 'unladylike' subject, they would be swiftly dissuaded from that avenue of interest.

He felt like Paul on the road to Damascus, having had the scales ripped from his eyes and able to see things clearly for the first time.

It was a very unsettling feeling.

Chapter Twenty Two

Hope didn't know how Honoria endured this. The last few days had just been an endless cycle of fear. She jumped at every small noise and each time she closed her eyes, she saw him, his face by hers, his rancid, whisky breath making her want to recoil but she couldn't. His words tormented her, replaying over and over in her head, reminding her of what he wanted to do to her. She didn't understand everything he'd said, but she knew enough that his words struck fear into her heart.

And then there was the pain. Her wrist hurt, her ankle hurt, her ribs hurt and she could hardly open one eye, although that was getting better.

Hope knew that Malcolm was in jail and had been denied bail, because he continued to make threats towards Hope. Many people had told her this but for some reason, that didn't make the fear go away.

How did Honoria not only live with not only the pain and the memories, but also with the man himself?

She had always thought herself a strong woman but now she realised that she had no idea what true strength was.

Everyone urged her to get up and out of bed; they had found an old wheeled chair that she could be moved about the house garden with. Her mother especially was keen on her going out into the garden, but didn't she realise that the garden was where it happened? She would no more voluntarily go into the garden, even with other people, than she would fly.

Her father wasn't quite so adamant, but he too pushed for her to leave her room. Even her lady's maid pestered her.

Only James didn't. She didn't know why, perhaps he preferred her meek and placid. Every day he came in and read to her for two hours and he enjoyed those hours very much. He was a natural orator and brought the stories to life, so for a few hours at least, she could forget her painful memories and instead, immerse herself in the story for a while. Their first novel was Mary Barton but now they had moved onto Jane Eyre

Jane was strong too but like Honoria, it was a quiet strength. Like Hope, she wasn't afraid to speak her mind, but Hope felt that she didn't have the inner strength to back up her bluster. One attack and she had crumpled.

She smiled as James knocked on her door, then came in when bid and smiled at her.

“Does MacDuff need to go outside?” he asked.

Hope could hardly believe that James would stoop to carrying her dog to the garden, but each day he asked.

“If you wouldn't mind, he hasn't been out since this morning.”

“I wouldn't ask if I minded.”

MacDuff could walk on three legs now but he found going down the stairs difficult, so someone always carried him. As gently as he could, James eased MacDuff into his arms, holding the dog's rear by his waist and putting each leg over a different shoulder, as if MacDuff were a child. Still, he seemed to feel more secure being carried that way than any other.

They were gone about ten minutes and Hope used the time to plump her pillows, adding the spare pillows from MacDuff's side so that she could sit up for a change.

She smiled even brighter as James came back and gently laid her dog back on the bed. He had made a few protests about hygiene but seemed to have accepted the situation now. He even paused to stroke MacDuff for a few minutes.

“How was school?” Hope asked. Although she hadn't been talking much, people kept talking to her, telling her what was happening and sometimes, she even listened. She wasn't sure what day of the week it was but she knew that this must be a teaching day, because he was later than usual.

“Good,” he smiled. Hope had never asked him anything before, and had only begun exchanging pleasantries with him a few days before. “I never thought that I would be good at teaching arithmetic, it was my worst subject when I was young but I finally stumbled on a reward system that makes them much more eager to learn.”

“Reward system?”

“Yes. Each day I set a challenge at the end of the lesson, difficult problems for each age group. The ones who get all five questions right get a red ribbon and a pin to wear it on their shirt. Those with five red ribbons get a blue ribbon. Those with five blue ones get a gold. Well, probably yellow, I haven't needed to buy any gold ribbon yet, but already Sally Mayhew has four red ribbons, so I had better get some blue before I go back on Friday.”

“She's very bright,” Hope said.

“Yes, but dreadfully poor.”

For a moment, Hope thought that he was judging her based on her family's money, or lack thereof, but he looked so downhearted when she glanced at him, that she knew her initial judgement was wrong.

“Anyway, I probably shouldn't be talking of such depressing things when you're still in your sickbed. Where did we get to with Jane Eyre?”

 

The next day when Martha came to see Hope, she brought their first letters from Mary and Honoria, although they were signed Mary and Helen. It was almost four weeks since Honoria and Hope had left.

Hope smiled as her mother read each letter aloud to her, starting with Mary's.

'My Dearest Hope and my Darling Sister,

We have been in America for two days now and we are still staying in New York City whilst we decide where we would like to settle. We are staying at Sturtevant House, a nice hotel where the immigration officials suggested that two single women would be safe and looked after, without costing a fortune.

The ship we came over on was lovely, although I believe that the steerage passengers were a lot more crowded than 2
nd
class. Helen was very frightened at first, but she is handling everything well. When we got to Castle Clinton, where we had to register our entrance to the country, I thought that Helen might be terrified by the noise, crowds and chaos, but she actually seems much calmer now that we are here. I believe that now we are an ocean away, Helen is beginning to believe that we might be safe.

I too must confess that I am feeling excited to be here. The country really is so large that it astounds me at times, but I look forward to discovering it. Or parts of it, at least.

New York is a very busy city, far busier than anything I am used to, which is why I do not believe that we can settle here. Crime is also rife here, so the immigration officers informed us. From what locals have told us so far, Chicago sounds nice. In contrast, it is a much smaller city but something of a transportation hub, so it has all the benefits of a city without the associated problems.

Some have also suggested that we venture south or east, to the frontiers as it were. Helen seems slightly enamoured by this idea, but I believe it is always easier to hide among a crowd. Also, while Helen has shown that she is willing, I don't believe that she understands the amount of work that would be involved in keeping a remote house. If you have an opinion, we would be very interested to hear it.

I'm afraid I don't have time to say much more now; we brought so little with us that we need to stock up a little before we move on. Helen has been fitted for two new dresses which she is very much looking forward to collecting.

I do hope that Ma is not too troubled by my loss. Please tell me what you know when you reply.

Please reply to the hotel address on the stationery. The manager has assured me that if we have moved on, he will forward your letters to us.

With fondest regards,

Mary'

“How good to hear that they are settling in well and looking forward to the challenge.” Martha said, folding up the letter and unfolding the next one. “Honoria sent us a letter each.”

'Dear Hope,

We have been in America for two days now, and I have to say that I have never felt lighter since I married Malcolm. I feel so free, as though I can do anything that I want!

My only regret is that you couldn't come with us. I do so miss you at times.

Mary is a lovely woman and has been very good to me; thank you for asking her to accompany me. Were it not for her steady nerves, there are times when I think I should have lost my equilibrium. The docks for example, were so crowded when we landed, and the immigration hall was complete mayhem, but Mary kept her head.

The hotel we are staying in is very nice, although we have opted for a middle class establishment rather than a more upper class hotel. Still, the staff are all very friendly and the manager seems to have taken a liking to us, going out of his way to help us find places. Without him, I believe there are times that we might have gotten lost. I also cannot tell you how nice it was to sleep on a bed that didn't rock with the waves.

I have been to London during the Season, but the sheer size of New York puts London to shame, and we have not even seen very much of it yet.

We are still very busy, buying many things that we didn't have time to before the journey, although the ship staff were very good when we needed something. We are also asking everyone we meet what they know about the country and where they believe might be a good place to settle. One gentleman told me that if I was looking for a husband, I should try Texas. He was so earnest that I didn't have the heart to tell him that it was the furthest thing from my mind at the moment, or that I was actually trying to lose a husband!

I must thank you again for what you and your mother have done for me. I do hope that you are both well.

I also hope that James hasn't taken the news of my disappearance too badly. Please tell him that I would want him to focus on his studies and not to grieve.

Please write back soon, I cannot wait to hear from you.

Your dearest friend,

Helen.'

Hope's smile had faded by the end of the letter. How could she write back and tell her friend that her brother had shot Malcolm? Or that Malcolm had attacked Hope and now she was too frightened to leave her bed.

Honoria was approaching what could be terrifying with remarkable courage and optimism. She didn't feel worthy of being Honoria's friend, so how could she reply when she was so feeble?

“Won't you write back?” Martha asked.

Hope turned over in her bed, pulled the covers up to her neck and reached a hand out to pet MacDuff.

“Not today,” she answered.

“Darling, Honoria would love to hear from you. Please?”

“I can't, Mar. Not today.”

Martha knew better than to badger her daughter so she dropped the subject for now. She just wished that she knew how to help her.

 

Although he still hadn't been told where Honoria was, James was thrilled to hear that not only was she safe, but that she seemed very happy.

“Did you hear?” he asked as he came into Hope's bedroom. “Honoria's first letter arrived today.”

“I heard.” Hope sounded very deflated.

“Thank you for what you did for her.”

Hope sighed.

“What is it?” he asked, pulling his chair up beside the bed.

“Nothing,”

“It's not nothing, but if you don't wish to tell me, then I shan't ask again.”

Hope turned her head to look at him, wondering why he never pressured her. Oddly, the lack of pressure made her more inclined to answer.

“I failed your sister,” she explained.

“I don't understand?”

“Were it not for my foolish plan, you would not have shot Malcolm and be facing jail. Honoria will never forgive me if anything happens to you.”

“I rather think that it is I who failed Honoria,” he said, his happiness fading somewhat. “I read her journals,” he went on to explain. “Time after time she tried to tell me of her misgivings and her pain, but I was blind to it. I, who knew her better than anyone, couldn't spot what you and your family did.” He hung his head. “I don't think I challenged Malcolm to a duel just because I was angry at him. I think... I think that a part of me wouldn't have minded if he had won, because I feel I that I deserve my fate.”

“Then surely the fact that you won, means that God forgives you?”

“He might,” James smiled wryly, “but it's proving much harder to forgive myself, even knowing that she is safe and alive and... Well, I can't help thinking that if I had not provoked James with the duel, he might not have taken his anger out on you.”

“You can't believe that?”

“He hadn't shown any signs of violence to you beforehand, so I must assume that I pushed him over the edge. I was prepared for him to be angry at me but perhaps if I had been thinking clearly, I would have realised that he is a bully and as such, only picks on those be believes to be weaker than himself, so I would never have been his target.”

“It's not your fault. Malcolm is a vile man and I am certain that sooner or later, he would have taken his anger out on me. He has no proof but he believes that I am hiding Honoria from him. I think it was inevitable in many ways but I too, was unable to predict his actions.”

BOOK: Degrees of Hope
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