Hope_Bride of New Jersey Read online

Page 2


  “There’s the house.”

  Hope peeked through her fingers, trying to see without getting water in her eyes. “Where?”

  The driver chuckled. “There.” He pointed to a huge structure that rose at least three stories high up ahead.

  “Oh, no, that can’t be. I’m going to Hazelbrook, property of Mr. Edwards. That place looks more like a castle from a fairy tale.”

  “No, miss, that’s the right place.”

  Hope looked again, her eyes growing wide despite the rain. This massive estate was to be her home? Perhaps she should have realized she was marrying a wealthy man when she received the clothing allowance, but she’d assumed that he’d been putting money aside for a while before advertising for a wife. It had never occurred to her that his home was anything but modest.

  “Speechless, are ya?” the driver chuckled again. “Let’s get you out of the rain.”

  He turned the horse onto the lane that led to the house. The path twisted through trees thicker than they’d passed on the road, and several times, Hope couldn’t see the house at all. Did all this property belong to the estate? Then they broke free of the trees and into a courtyard that led up to the house. From this vantage point, she couldn’t see the eaves or the roof anymore. When she looked up, all she saw were turrets and towers and windows.

  The front door came open, and an older woman dressed in black fluttered down the stairs. “Oh, my, this rain! Quick—come inside.”

  Hope lowered herself to the ground and stepped under the awning over the door, trying to avoid as many of the raindrops as possible. The driver hopped down and lowered the gate on the back of the buggy. He struggled to lift her trunk for a moment, but then a younger man came around from the side of the house, grasped the handles, and carried it into the house.

  “Third bedroom on the second floor, Timothy,” the woman called out as he headed up the staircase.

  The driver touched his hat and climbed back into the buggy. “Won’t you come inside for a bit?” the woman called out. He shook his head, waved, and headed back the way he’d come without another word.

  “Well, he never has been a chatty sort,” she said, turning back toward Hope. “I’m Mrs. Green, and you must be Miss Middleton.”

  “That’s right. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Green.”

  “I’m certainly glad you’ve arrived. Addie’s done nothing but pester me all day about your arrival. She’s in bed now, but you can see her first thing in the morning. She’s the child you’ll be raising. She’s lived here about five years now, I’d say.”

  Hope followed Mrs. Green down the hall. The walls were covered in thick slabs of dark wood, giving the place a heavy feel. “That’s how long Mr. Edwards has lived here, then? Five years?”

  Mrs. Green cast a curious glance over her shoulder. “Oh, no. This is his ancestral home. It’s been in his family the last four generations.”

  Hope blinked. “I confess, then, to being confused. How did Addie come to be here just five years ago? Isn’t she Mr. Edwards’ daughter?”

  Mrs. Green chuckled. “Oh, gracious no. She’s merely his ward. Her mother was a great friend of Mr. Edwards’ some years past. I rather think he was in love with her, but she never returned his feelings, from what I could gather of the story. She died of a horrible consumptive attack and left the child parentless. Mr. Edwards took her in as a kindness to her mother. But he’s hardly ever home to see to her, so that’s why you’re here. The child is sadly lacking in her education, and something must be done about it.”

  Mrs. Green led Hope into a spacious kitchen and motioned her to be seated at the table. “Take off your cloak, dear, and drape it over that chair. Let’s see about getting you warmed up some.”

  “So I’m to be a governess, then, as well as a wife?” Hope asked as she did what she was told, then placing her hat on top of her cape. This notion didn’t bother Hope. She’d done a fair share of teaching—a bit more wasn’t a challenge.

  “That’s about the right of it, although to be honest, I think Mr. Edwards is more concerned about getting a good governess than he is a wife. Marriage was an afterthought—I’m the one who suggested it.” Mrs. Green bustled over to the stove and poured some steaming liquid into a cup.

  “He wasn’t interested in marriage?” Hope asked, feeling a ripple of disappointment wash over her. What would it be like to wed a man who had no desire to be married in the first place?

  “Oh, I suppose he was interested, but he just needed a little nudge. You know how men are—some of them will never get around to doing the right thing unless they’re pestered a bit. It’s a good thing I’m quite talented at pestering.” She gave a chuckle as she moved over to the cupboard and pulled out a tin. “I have some cookies to go with this coffee.”

  “Thank you. That sounds lovely.” Wet tendrils of hair stuck to Hope’s face, and she brushed them back. So much for making a good first impression—she was quite sure she looked something like a drowned rat. “You said I’d meet Addie in the morning. When am I to meet Mr. Edwards?”

  “Oh, he’s not here.” Mrs. Green set the coffee and cookies in front of Hope and turned back to the cupboard. “I wonder where those biscuits went.”

  “I’m sorry—did you say Mr. Edwards isn’t here?” What sort of man wouldn’t be home to greet his new wife? Hope didn’t know what to think of it.

  “He’s gone quite a bit on business, and his schedule is unpredictable. He’ll be home by and by, and then you can meet him.” Mrs. Green seemed entirely unconcerned by her employer’s strange behavior.

  Hope took a sip of her coffee. It was hot and black, just what she needed to ward off the chill, but she ordinarily preferred it with cream and sugar. “So you have no firm date for his return?”

  “I don’t. However, I have every instruction to make you comfortable in the meantime. Why don’t you bring your cup upstairs, and I’ll show you your room? You must be eager to change into something dry.”

  “I am, actually.” Hope draped her cloak over her arm after Mrs. Green picked up her hat. Then she gathered up her cup and cookies and followed Mrs. Green as she led the way toward the main staircase. She tried not to show her astonishment at the grandeur of the place, all the rich wood and the chandeliers, the thick carpeting that felt like stepping on moss. If she was to be mistress, she should appear to be accustomed to such things, shouldn’t she? But then again, how was she to be mistress when the master didn’t bother to be here when she arrived? She might not be married for some time.

  They climbed the staircase, a massive thing of carved wood carpeted in deep red. It curved from the main entryway up to the second floor. The hallway was open on one side, forming a sort of balcony that looked down over the entryway. Doors lined the other side, countless doors, and Hope wondered what could possibly lie behind each of them. Did one family really need so much space?

  “This is your room,” Mrs. Green said, opening the door that was third along the way. She entered, then stepped back so Hope could go inside. “We have electricity in some parts of the house, such as the kitchen and dining room. But the house was built quite a long time ago, so most of the rooms on the second and third floors still require the use of candles and matches. I’m sorry to say that yours is one of them.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind,” Hope said, entirely distracted by everything she saw as she entered her quarters for the first time.

  Of all the dreams Hope had ever entertained of what her bedroom might look like, she had never anticipated anything like this. Candles had already been lit, and by their flickering light, she could make out the rose damask curtains that hung at the windows. Her bed was canopied in the same material, and the rug was rich and sumptuous under her feet. There was a fireplace, a vanity table, a settee near the window—it was the most luxurious bedroom she’d ever imagined. “It’s lovely,” she said, turning slowly to take it all in.

  “This will be your room until you and Mr. Edwards have wed. Of course, if yo
u desire to retain it after that time, you have that option as well.” Mrs. Green walked over to the curtains and threw them wide, leaving Hope to wonder about that odd comment. Why would she choose to keep her own bedroom after she was married? Was Mr. Edwards’ temper even worse than he had hinted in the advertisement?

  Mrs. Green gestured out the window. “Of course you can’t see it in the dark, but there’s quite a lovely flower garden down there, and then the forest beyond that. We have stables, if you care to ride. The air will be nice and fresh tomorrow after this rain, so you might as well get out and enjoy the property. It’s quite expansive—you could walk for an hour and not reach the edge of it.” She closed the curtains again. “Now, tell me what else I can do for you. Are you hungry? Do you wish a bath?”

  “Truthfully, I’d like to go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

  Mrs. Green nodded. “Of course. I’ll leave you to it, then. There’s fresh water in the basin, and if you need anything, please let me know.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Green. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  As soon as the woman left her room, Hope crossed the floor and lowered herself onto the settee. She was tired clean through—every inch of her was weary. She pulled off her shoes and wiggled her toes—she’d known she shouldn’t wear her new shoes to travel, but vanity had taken hold, and now she was paying the price for it. She imagined it would be weeks before the shoes conformed to the shape of her feet.

  Several minutes later, she had changed into her nightclothes, draped her wet things over a chair by the fireplace to dry, blotted her hair, and had settled into bed. It was remarkably comfortable, and the bedding smelled like sunshine. She might not know anything about the man who owned this house, but he did have a very nice home indeed.

  Just as she was drifting off to sleep, she thought she heard laughter coming from somewhere in the house. Someone was certainly merry that night.

  Chapter Three

  Hope slept better than she had in ages, and when she woke up the next morning, she lay in bed for a moment, feeling utterly content. She threw back the blankets and washed, giving her hair a thorough brushing before pinning it up.

  She chuckled as she looked over the dresses she’d brought with her. She had envisioned a simpler life—none of these dresses were suited to the home where she now lived. That was all right—they were suited to her. She was the piece that didn’t fit into this puzzle, and she hoped that when she met Mr. Edwards, he wouldn’t consider her entirely too uncouth and send her on her way. Of course, he hadn’t advertised for a woman who would fit in as the mistress of a grand house, so if she wasn’t quite what he hoped for, he only had himself to blame.

  She chose the yellow sprigged muslin and dressed quickly, then headed downstairs. She didn’t know how things were done here—what time meals were served, if she was expected to help, how early she was to wake up. These were all questions she would put to Mrs. Green. She felt the housekeeper would steer her in the right direction and keep her confidence that she knew nothing of living on such a fine estate.

  As soon as Hope reached the bottom of the stairs, a little dark-haired girl in a white satin dress came running up and threw her arms around Hope’s waist. “Is it you? Have you really come?”

  Hope laughed. “Yes, it is me, and I have really come. Take a step back so I can get a look at you.”

  The child did as she was told, clasping her hands behind her back. “My name is Addie, I’m eight years old, and I’m horribly uneducated and in need of a firm hand.”

  Hope raised an eyebrow. “Is this the opinion you have of yourself?”

  “Oh, no. That’s what Uncle Edwards says. I was listening at the door while he was talking to Mrs. Green. She said he needed to find a wife, one who would take charge of me and keep me from being a complete heathen. What is a complete heathen?”

  “Someone who needs a good education,” Hope replied. It seemed that the other adults in the household had no idea what to do with the girl. Her first task would be easy to figure out.

  “And what am I to call you? Mrs. Green says I shouldn’t call you Mama, because you won’t be my mother. Aunt Edwards would be all right, wouldn’t it?”

  Hope considered that for a moment. “It would be all right after Mr. Edwards and I are married, but we aren’t yet. Perhaps we should make this less difficult. We’re going to be friends for a long time, and there’s no reason to be so formal. Why don’t you call me Hope?”

  The girl’s eyes grew wide. “That’s the most beautiful name I’ve ever heard in my whole life. I would love to call you Hope.”

  Hope smiled. No one had ever told her that her name was pretty. She was raised to believe that there was nothing pretty about her whatsoever, and the only compliments she’d received had come from men who’d had a bit too much to drink. “Then it’s settled. Now, show me to breakfast, please, and then we’ll discuss your schooling. Do you speak any languages or play any instruments?”

  Addie scuffed the floor with the toe of her shoe. “I thought we were going to talk about school after breakfast.”

  Hope hid a smile. “And so we shall. Don’t do that, please. You’ll ruin that nice shine on your shoe. Not to mention the nice shine someone put on these floors.”

  Addie led the way into the breakfast room, which was on the east side of the house and filled with the morning light. Fresh autumn leaves had been put in a vase in the center of the table, and hot food was laid out on silver chargers. It was a very grand meal for just the two of them, but no one else came to join them. Hope ate until she was quite certain she would burst. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten so well, if ever. The food at school had been skimpy and poorly cooked, and once she began work at the factory, she couldn’t afford much of anything nice.

  “Now will you show me your studies?” Hope asked after wiping her mouth with her napkin.

  “Wouldn’t you rather see my pony?” Addie’s tone was wheedling. “He’s my very own—Uncle Edwards gave him to me. His name is Thistle, and he’s awfully nice.”

  Hope recognized a delay tactic when she saw one. This child was obviously reluctant to discuss her education—it was time to figure out why. “You may show me Thistle after you show me your studies.”

  “Oh, all right.” Addie pulled herself out of her chair as though it took considerable effort. “I have a schoolroom. It’s this way.”

  Hope felt guilty leaving the entire breakfast mess for someone else to clean up, but Mrs. Green bustled in and shooed her away. “I’ve got this well in hand. You go with Miss Addie and get to know her. You’ll be spending quite a lot of time with her, you know.”

  “Thank you.” Hope took a step toward the doorway, but then paused. “Mrs. Green, as I was drifting off to sleep last night, I heard a curious noise. Laughter, coming from down the hall. It seemed rather odd to me because it was quite late.”

  “Oh, that.” Mrs. Green waved a hand as though it was of no consequence. “That’s just Ann. Mr. Edwards hires her to do all the mending and sewing, and she works mostly at night because she has trouble sleeping. If you ask me, she enjoys a bit too much whiskey from time to time, and forgets to keep her voice down. I’ll speak to her about that again. She knows it’s against orders to be so loud.”

  “I appreciate it,” Hope said. She gave a nod and then followed Addie up the stairs. They went down the hallway nearly to the end of the balcony. “This is my room,” Addie said, pointing to a door, “and this is my schoolroom.”

  Sunlight streamed into the room through the east-facing windows. Hope was amazed at the many shelves of books and toys that lined the walls. Everything needed for a child’s education was provided, including maps and slates and paper and pen.

  “What a marvelous room,” Hope said, running her finger along the spines of the books on one of the shelves. “We can learn so many things in here. And it’s so bright, we won’t even need to worry about the lack of electricity. I can hardly wait to get started. You will
be my best student.”

  “That’s not what Miss Morrell said.” Addie plunked down on a chair in the middle of the room. “She said I was incorri—incorri-something. I don’t remember. But she scowled when she said it.”

  “Who is Miss Morrell?”

  Addie played with one of the satin ribbons on her dress, looking uncomfortable. “She was my last governess. She left after a month. That’s why Mrs. Green said Uncle Edwards should marry the next governess so she’d have to stay.”

  Well, that certainly made Hope feel better about things. She raised her eyebrow. “I suppose that would make a governess stay, wouldn’t it? Tell me. Was the word Miss Morrell used ‘incorrigible’?”

  Addie nodded. “That’s it. What does it mean, anyway?”

  Hope pressed her lips together. “It means, someone in need of a good education.”

  Addie scowled. “Is that what all long words mean?”

  “For now, yes.” Hope crossed the floor and sat in the larger chair next to Addie’s small one. “I see some books on this little table. Are these the books you were studying when Miss Morrell left?”

  “That’s right. I don’t like them at all. The stories are silly, and the drawings aren’t good.”

  Hope picked up the book on top and flipped through it. Addie was right—the drawings were very poorly done, and when she read a paragraph or two of the story, she found it unbearable.

  “Are all your story books this way?”

  “Yes. Every one. I think we should give them to the school in town and get better books for ourselves.”

  Hope nodded. “Or perhaps. . .”

  “Perhaps what?”

 

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