Hope - Lesley Pearse [246]
He heard a faint sniff from behind him, and knew Hope was crying.
‘She was the prettiest, funniest, liveliest girl for miles around,’ he went on, kissing Betsy’s little head. ‘Brave as a lion, kind, caring and as sharp as a box of knives. Not the kind of person you’d expect to end her days in an asylum at all. I hoped too that she was going to come up to Briargate soon and give me her opinion on whether I could turn the stables into a house for Lily and me.’
He turned as the sobbing became louder. Hope was distraught, tears pouring down her face as her head thrashed from side to side on the pillow.
Nell had told him that Hope hadn’t cried, apart from briefly when the letter first arrived. She said it was as though her sister’s spirit had left her and all that was left was a shell. But as he looked at Hope now he thought maybe these tears were necessary to free that spirit from whatever dark place it had hidden itself in.
It hurt to watch her anguish – he wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her. But he had Betsy in his arms and he knew that his role today must be as her protector.
So he watched and waited patiently until Hope’s tears began to subside and she fumbled for a handkerchief to blow her nose and dry her eyes. She looked terrible, her face blotchy and red and her eyes swollen. But it was better than the blank nothingness there had been before.
‘You’ll feed her now,’ he said. It was an order, not a question, and he was relieved when she nodded.
‘Good girl,’ he said, and laid Betsy on the bed for a moment. He helped Hope sit up, wiped the tears from her cheeks and plumped the pillows up behind her back, then put the infant in her arms.
‘I’d like to stay and keep you company while you feed her,’ he said with a smile. ‘But I don’t think Nell would approve of that! I’ll be downstairs, though – just call when you’ve finished.’
He paused at the door, relieved to see she was cradling Betsy tenderly.
‘You aren’t alone, Hope,’ he said softly. ‘You’ve got so many people who love you. Come what may, we’ll never desert you.’
Rufus felt as if he’d been wrung out as he walked downstairs and into the kitchen. Nell was still slumped at the table.
‘She’s feeding Betsy now,’ he said, putting his hand on Nell’s bowed shoulders. ‘I’ll stay for the rest of the day, now go and lie down.’
‘But there’s meals to be got, napkins to wash,’ Nell protested.
‘Dora can do that,’ he said gently, for he could see Nell was almost as distraught as Hope. ‘It won’t hurt to let things slide for now. You’ve worked so hard all your life, Nell, it’s high time you took a rest when you need one.’
He helped her to her feet and hugged her to him. It seemed such a short time ago that he had been a little boy running to her and burying his head in her soft breasts for comfort. Now she was the small one, her head only reaching his chest, and he hoped he was comforting her.
‘I think she’ll be all right now,’ he said soothingly. ‘You Rentons are made of stern stuff. I’ll write to the Captain today too. Now the war over there is drawing to a close, maybe he can go to Scutari and find Bennett for us.’
Three weeks later, Rufus arrived at Willow End again, this time with a pony and buggy, to take Hope and Betsy to see his mother.
He felt a surge of absolute delight when Hope came out eagerly, wearing a becoming red hat with a jaunty feather, and with Betsy tucked beneath her red-checked cloak. Rufus had been in and out several times in the last three weeks, and although Hope still hadn’t heard anything more about Bennett she appeared only worried and tense, not melancholic.
Yet today she looked really well again, her smile bright and her colour good. A little