Hope's Betrayal Read Online Free PDF Page A

word to her
stepbrother or he would sail into a trap…
     
    *****
     
    The next
morning, thudding feet on stairs woke Hope. It wasn’t Huntley, but the same
maid who had brought her bath water.
    "Good
day." Hope wriggled into a sitting position.
    The maid looked
startled. Used to Hope being groggy with laudanum, this lucidity surprised her.
She deposited the tray and backed away. Hope smiled, but only succeeded in
alarming the young girl.
    Later that same
day when the maid brought fresh water, growing weary of isolation, Hope tried
to strike up a conversation. The two of them were, Hope surmised, of a similar
age, and as the maid padded across the room, the scent of wood smoke clung to
her clothes.
    "Thank you,
again."
    The girl looked
as if Hope had spoken a foreign language. "Beggin' your pardon?"
    "I'm sorry
to put you to such trouble."
    "Tis no
trouble, Miss." The girl's hand flew to cover her mouth. "Oh, I'm not
supposed to talk to you, Miss."
    "But you
just did. Twice. But I don’t want to get you into trouble."
    Shy smiles broke
across their faces.
    "Can't be
no harm in being polite now, can there?" The maid replied
matter-of-factly.
    "No
indeed…and it's nice to talk to you. My name's Hope. What's yours?"
    "I know as
your Hope, everyone's talking about you. And I'm Ruby." With a guilty
look, the maid smiled and left.
    But that had
been hours ago as afternoon slipped into evening. With nothing to occupy her,
Hope lapsed into an uneasy sleep, haunted by nightmares of choking, an
intolerable tightness around her neck. She woke, covered in sweat, and pushed
back the bedclothes.
    Hope glanced
around. Ruby must have come and gone while she was asleep, because the curtains
were drawn and a new candle lit. With an urgency born of fear, Hope lifted her
broken ankle over the edge of the mattress.
    Hope breathed
through the white-hot pain, as sliding from the bed she reached for the
candlestick; nerves taut as bowstrings, she shuffled on her bottom to the
window. At last, with the curtains in grasping distance she levered herself up.
Buzzing filled her senses, the walls spun as she stood, reached for the lantern
and lit it.
    Peering out into
the night, pitch blackness cloaked the sea. The wind whistled, and far off, a
seagull screeched. Hope had no idea how long she stood at the little window,
covering and uncovering the lantern in long and short shows. With every creak
and groan of the house, she expected discovery.  But no one came, and
eventually it was the cold which drove her to blow out the lamp and start the
slow shuffle back to bed.
    She was halfway
there when the door at the bottom of the stairs clicked open. Her heart slammed
against her ribs. For a moment she sat frozen, as slow, unhurried footsteps
climbed the stairs. If she was quick, there was a chance, just a chance she
could make it to the bed…
    Hope almost made
it. With one hand on the bedstead, she was pulling herself up when long shadows
thrown by a candle reached her feet.
    "What are
you doing?"  An unfamiliar woman with crisp, clear diction spoke.  Hope
collapsed onto the mattress and thought furiously.
    "I needed
to use the pot."
    The shadowed
visitor approached, the flickering candle illuminating a softly lined face and
a widow's cap. The woman smelt of tea-rose and Hope found this strangely
reassuring, it reminded her of her late mother.
    "Here, let
me help." With motherly intent, the woman flicked the blankets over Hope's
legs and straightened the counterpane. Hope saw a pretty woman in her forties
or fifties, with high cheekbones and a kind expression. Hope played along and
lie back, wondering why she was here. In a gown of heavy, watered-silk, clearly
she was no maid. Smile lines framed the woman's clear blue eyes as she spoke.
"You aren’t what I expected."
    Hope pouted.
"I'm not an exhibit. I'm being kept here against my will."
    The older woman
arched a brow. "Really? Well I heard, Miss Tyler, that you should be in
jail." 
    Hope