Hope Is a Waking Dream

By Chloe Behrens

Hope had always been aware that her mother ran away from home when she was sixteen, but didn’t know why. When Hope’s parent’s parish in a fatal accident, suddenly the only ones to turn to are the ones her mother ran from, years ago. The story begins at the start of her journey to majestic Van Steenburgh Manor.

Follow Hope in a seemingly rags-to-riches experience; being introduced to luxuries she had only previously dreamt about. But it doesn’t take long for her to realize that nothing at the manor is what it seems. In the midst of elegant parties, dinner banquets, and enrollment into a prestigious school, Hope struggles to find a place to fit in.

Secrets lurk around every corner of Van Steenburgh Manor, but amidst the madness, Hope finds comfort in Preston, Lawrence’s adopted son, and the mysterious Trent, whom she is immediately instructed to stay away from.

Determined to find out what drove her mother away, Hope seeks answers. Will she find them? ... Or will history repeat itself?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chloe Behrens
• Release date: Apr 28, 2012
• ISBN: 9781105703157

Chloe Behrens

Chloe Behrens was born in Hudson Valley, NY and now resides in the suburbs of Dallas, TX."I fell in love with writing as soon as I learned how to read," she says. "Picture books progressed into lovelorn poetry. Poetry turned into short stories, and then the Van Steenburgh Family began in my teenage years. The story began, and then it wasn't until my early twenties that the second novel in the series came out. The last novel in the series was written this year. It was hard to put it to rest after it being with me for so many years." Still, she triumphed on.After the release of her Van Steenburgh saga, she penned two more books -- neither of which belong to a series. "Breaking Berlyn was so fun to tell because of the characters. Gavin and Berlyn's banter is so witty, and I love how he keeps her on her toes. He finds ways to open her up to new things, and she really needs that. Sometimes, we all do."Happily Ever After: A Tale of a Wedding Planner, has become more popular as a chick-lit/contemporary romance. It's being featured in the Frankfurt International Book Fair 2012, and is her best-selling book, yet! "I think it's because the main character Banner is so flawed, and independent. A lot of the fun, fearless women of today can relate to her. She's strong-willed, career-oriented, and she's human. She makes mistakes." Her male counterpart, Christian Brenhoff, is the epitome of what every woman wants, but doesn't want. "Or so she thinks. I don't know. We are all guilty of judging people, and when it backfires on us, we sometimes don't know how to handle that."She is currently working on her second series, and when she's not typing away on her laptop working on a story, she enjoys traveling, spending time with her pets, and life with her longtime boyfriend/best friend Shaun. "My life is an adventure," she adds. "One I thoroughly enjoy with each passing minute!"

Book preview

Hope Is a Waking Dream

Chloe Behrens

Published by:

K R Cimorelli

Smashwords Edition

Hope Is a Waking Dream



© 2012, Chloe Behrens. All Rights Reserved

ISBN 978-1-105-70315-7

Published by K R Cimorelli

First Edition: 2012

Smashwords Edition




ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited in any form. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

To My Mother

The things you’ve struggled through in your life have become my inspiration.

Your enormous support and belief in me has been my guiding light.

Everything that you are, and have become,

Is everything I aspire to be.

Chapter 1

Welcome Home

Looking out through my tiny window, my future seemed as opaque as the clouds I was staring into. I couldn’t describe exactly what I was feeling. I wouldn’t have even known where to begin. There was so much going through my mind. Pain. Fear. Excitement. Grief. Longing. Confusion. Each emotion that I could identify seemed more terrifying than the last. I had never felt so lost. And to think that it was only the beginning...

The airplane was scheduled to land in less than an hour. From that moment on, my life was starting over. Everything I had known, no longer existed. My home, my family, my friends... gone. I had no idea what exactly I was walking into. Why? Because my mother felt that it was better I knew nothing of her past. Apparently she had never anticipated the possibility of suddenly losing her life one day and leaving me behind to fend for myself. She was unaware that there might come a time when her mother and stepfather would need to step in, and take over as parental guardians.

I never understood why she would never divulge the details of what exactly happened to her during her childhood. She wouldn’t tell me what made her so bitter towards her mother, or why she had fled home when she was seventeen. The same age as I was now. All I knew was that she had gotten pregnant with me, and ran away from her home with just a single suitcase and her boyfriend—my father—Jeremy. Still, there were many holes in her stories—what little she had told me. Holes I wished she had filled. Now, I may never know. I only knew that now I was going to a place that she had run away from. A place that made her eyes water when she would think about it. A place that left her so much pain that she refused to speak of it.

I saw a picture of the house, one time. I say house, when actually, castle would more accurately describe it. My mother had a wooden chest in her closet, and in that chest were the only items she had taken with her when she left home. She had a few articles of clothing, some pictures, and a rag doll that she had torn a small hole in, and hid money she had collected inside to run away with. There were three pictures. When one day she walked in and caught me, I was gazing at one in particular, of her with a man and a woman on a hill, with this castle off in the distance behind them. At first she was startled to find me in her room, amongst her most sacred possessions. For a brief moment, her eyes beheld a touch of fury. I sat frozen, scared, and we stared wordlessly at one another. Her eyes softened, and she picked up one of the two pictures on the floor before me.

Hope, this is your grand-father. She held the picture out before my face, and I stared at the handsome, smiling man with dark, sparkling eyes and white, perfect teeth. He was a wonderful man. He loved my mother and I, with all his heart. He’d still be here today if she hadn’t taken me away with her, and left him for someone younger, wealthier... Her eyes shone with tears. He died of a broken heart.

Surely, you would think a person couldn’t die of a broken heart. But to hear her tell the story, it seemed he really had. My mother went on to tell how Lawrence Anthony Van Steenburgh suddenly appeared in her life, and how her mother connived him into marrying her. She didn’t love him, she went on. My mother never loved anyone but herself. While all of this happened, and even after the divorce, my grandfather sank into a deep depression. He let his business go. He neglected himself. Ultimately, he turned to alcohol, and he drank himself to death.

I glanced down at my watch. Approximately forty-five more minutes until the plane lands.

I will never forget the night I was walking down the hallway, and past my parents’ bedroom, catching a glimpse of my mother sitting at her vanity table. She was getting ready for a dinner banquet that she and my father were attending for his company, and for a moment I just had to stop and admire her, drinking in all that she did to make herself more exquisite-looking than she already was. She was humming softly while she sprayed some subtle scent onto herself, and as she put the finishing touches on her make-up, she glanced over at me, standing in the doorway.

Hello there, Hope. She held her hand out towards me, and smiled. I was so lost in my own little world for a moment that I hadn’t noticed you standing there!

You look so pretty, I gushed, entering her room. She stood up in her elegant black gown, and that’s when I noticed the sparkling diamond necklace she donned around her small neck. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that one before, I pointed.

In her other hand she revealed the matching diamond earrings that glittered in the light of her bedroom, and a small smile formed on her lips. A faraway look surfaced to her eyes. My mother gave this jewelry to me on my sixteenth birthday, she told me. I’ve never taken them out of the box until now. Someday, I’ll pass them down to you, she promised, her eyes brightening once again. She glanced at my father, who emerged from the bathroom freshly shaven. He looked so handsome in his suit. Her eyes filled with love just looking at him. Then she looked back at me for a moment, and sighed.

I narrowed my eyes at her, wishing for one moment that I were able to read her thoughts. Especially now, looking back, there were so many wistful, unfocused stares that I’d never really understood. She was my mother, but I never felt like I really knew her. As it turned out, I never really would.

Are you ready to leave, Lindsey?

Snapping out of her spell the instant my father spoke her name, she smiled at him and snatched her hand from the side of my face. Of course, darling! My father came over and hugged me, and said goodbye before he followed my mother out.

You really don’t have to stay home, he reminded me.

I’ll go next time, I promised them. You two have a good time.

I should have gone.

Instead, I recall watching them pull out of the driveway in their sedan. Realizing that it was going to be a lonely night, I plopped into my father’s plushy recliner and found a good radio station. I closed my eyes and started to sing. The next thing I knew, I was singing myself to sleep… and the phone was ringing.

I rubbed my eyes and reached over, grabbing the phone, turning the radio down.

Oh, hi Hope! I recognized the voice on the line as John Blackstock. He was one of my father’s good friends. Uh, aren’t your parents coming, tonight? He asked. They said they were coming. Is your father there? Let me speak to him, would you please?

Perplexed, I glanced at the clock. Had I really been asleep for nearly two hours? They left almost two hours ago, I muttered, confused. They should already be there.

Well maybe they made a stop somewhere, or they’re having car problems… I was no longer listening to him. My heart was pounding now. When I hung up the phone, I was nervous. My father wasn’t late for anything, ever.

Would you like anything to drink, Miss?

Snapping back to reality, I glanced up at the flight attendant and smiled, shaking my head. No. Thank you.

Are you on your way home, or are you on your way to visit friends or family? The elderly man who sat beside me asked, while I shifted in my seat.

I groaned inside, far too nervous and anxious to really be interested in holding a conversation with anyone, but I swallowed it back. I looked for a response to his question, but what could I say? I guess I was on my way home, yes. Family? Yes. Friends? I was unsure.

I’m going to stay with some relatives for a while, I told him, forcing a friendly smile.

Oh, well that’s nice, he replied. A change of scenery can’t hurt. I’m just now returning from seeing relatives. Wore me out. I’m glad to be back.

I chuckled nervously, feeling worn out, myself.

Are you Hope de Havilland?

I glanced at the two state troopers standing just outside my front door. There was a lump in my throat, and I stood there, holding the door open, and afraid to move.

There was an accident on Ellen Parkway, involving Lindsey and Jeremy Carter.

I closed my eyes, and it felt like my head was going to wobble off. I held my breath as they continued, confirming my worst fears. I clenched my teeth, willing myself not to fall apart, and knowing that I had to be strong, no matter what the outcome.

I’m sorry, Miss, but it was fatal.

I buried my face in my hands, and they told me how a drunk driver had been coming down the road on the opposite side, and he crossed the median, losing control of his car. He collided with my parents’ car head-on, and according to what the men were telling me, my parents were killed instantly. After that, I only heard bits and pieces of what they said. I literally felt like I was falling apart, and became on the verge of hysterics as those two officers looked on helplessly.

I was so angry, and full of questions. Hadn’t my parents seen this car coming? Couldn’t they have swerved and avoided it? Where was this other person? What happened to he or she?

What made me even angrier was learning that this other person was just suffering a few cuts and bruises, and aside from facing charges of manslaughter, he was alive and well.

This has to be a mistake, I told them, trying to remain calm, though I was shaking so bad that I had to lean against the frame of the door. You must have made a mistake!"

That’s when I was presented with a small clear bag of items, which he opened, and after walking just inside the doorway, he scattered on the small table just inside. I watched in disbelief as he removed my father’s wallet, with his license, cards, some money, and pictures. The other trooper handed me my mother’s small, dainty purse. I looked over everything, and just continued to sob. They were asking me questions, who I could stay with, if there was anyone I could call. I had no one, now. I told them I could call the neighbors.

How I got from that point, and onto this plane, was still a mystery. I don’t know how my grandmother and her husband had found out about my parents’ death. It happened so fast. I received a phone call from Lawrence Van Steenburgh, offering his sympathy and bringing it to my attention that I had no one to turn to, now. How he knew that as well, I didn’t know. He had informed me that he was having my parents flown in, and buried in the family cemetery.

If your paternal grandparents were still alive, I’d consult with them, but since they are not, I will take it upon myself to bury your father, as well, he told me over the phone. I also insist that you come to live here at Van Steenburgh Manor from this point on. It’s the least I can do for you in your time of need. Then, before I could say another word, he continued. "I understand how reluctant you must feel, being that you don’t know myself, or my wife, but we are your family. Your best interests are here, and tomorrow there will be someone arriving to pick you up around noon. The arrangements have already been made, Hope. Your tickets are waiting at the airport.

Chapter 2

Grandmother

Clutching my small bag, I stepped off the plane, and entered the lobby, looking around anxiously. I had no idea what I was looking for. Some person holding a sign, like you see in the movies? Was I supposed to go somewhere to wait? Was I supposed to be able to recognize my grandmother, and her husband? Would they recognize me? I felt my heart pounding in my throat. I fidgeted with the necklace I wore, and wondered what I was supposed to do. I went to baggage claims and picked up the two suitcases that now held my entire life, and then headed back toward the lobby area. Within a few moments, a handsome man with raven-black hair, bronzed skin, dark eyes, and a business suit approached me, smiling warmly.

You must be Hope, he greeted me, motioning for the man following him behind to grab my suitcases. He then took my hand within his own, and I marveled at how large his hands were. He was well over six feet tall. On his ring finger he wore a band with glittering diamonds. I looked back up at him, and his eyes swept over me, his grin widening. It is wonderful to meet you at last! He then turned to acknowledge the classy woman standing to his side, and she was looking at me with wide, surprised eyes. She was stunning; her hair was golden-blonde, cut to flatter her small round face, with eyes of bright blue—just like my mother’s, and she was about the same height as me. She had a splendid figure, dainty, and she was very fit, which was contradictory of the image I always had in mind when I thought of the word grandmother.

Can you believe this, Vivien? She looks just like Lindsey did at her age! She’s a spitting image of her! The man exclaimed, unable to take his eyes off of me.

The woman narrowed her eyes at me after a moment, and scowled. She’s got dark eyes, dear. Lindsey didn’t have dark eyes.

Yes, but for everything else—she’s perfect! Lindsey, all over again!

She looked over me again, nodding. I suppose you’re right, she agreed. Now come along—we must be going on our way. I have appointments to keep, Lawrence. You know that.

He nodded, and then we were on our way.

We will do everything in our power to make you at home, at Van Steenburgh Manor, he assured me, as we walked. My grandmother glanced back at me with a scrutinizing look through her narrowed eyes, and I forced a smile through my nervousness. I truly hoped they couldn’t see me trembling, though I was doing it so badly I was sure they had already noticed. Had your mother told you anything about the manor?

I hesitated. Well, she’s shown me a picture that she’s kept, I spoke slowly. It looks beautiful.

My grandmother scowled, as if it were a sore subject with her. Lawrence didn’t seem to notice her reaction. He opened the door to the black limo we approached, and smiled with great pride. It’s magnificent, Hope. I’ll tell you all about it once we get settled into the car. This is Charles, our driver, he introduced us. You’ll be seeing him around the house, also.

He was a tall, wiry man who was entirely bald on the top of his head, and the hair on the sides was gray. He settled his gaze on me, and gave me a sardonic smile as I sat down into the car. His demeanor was unfriendly.

Once we were all settled into the car, and started on our way, Lawrence started chattering immediately. I realize that I haven’t formally introduced myself yet, and I apologize. I’m Lawrence Anthony Van Steenburgh, and this is my wife—your grand-mother- Vivien.

You may just call me Vivien, she spoke up, quickly. Then she smiled and gave me a light pat on the arm. ‘Grandmother’ makes me feel old. To call me ‘Vivien’ will suit me just fine. I nodded blankly.

And, Lawrence continued, taking my attention back to him. Just to avoid any confusion or misconceptions in the future, I think it’s best to tell you right now that I’m not your biological grand-father. Lindsey was born out of Vivien’s first marriage.

I already knew that, I spoke up.

It was Vivien and Lawrence’s turn to look at me with surprise.

You do?

I nodded. My mother told me, I revealed to them. It was one of the few things that she had told me about her past. I narrowed my eyes at them both. "For some reason, she never liked to talk about her past at Van Steenburgh Manor, very much.

Lawrence cleared his throat, running his hand down the crease in his pant leg, and he threw his wife a worried glance. She just quickly turned toward the window.

Well, you wanted to know about Van Steenburgh Manor, correct? he asked, taking it upon himself to just continue. This house has been in the family for centuries—

One hundred-forty years, dear, Vivien interrupted sharply. It hasn’t quite been ‘centuries’, yet.

Ignoring her comment, he proceeded. The first son in each generation of Van Steenburghs takes it over and improves it in some sort of way.

Vivien snorted.

You’ll have plenty to do. There’s an Olympic-sized pool outdoors, tennis courts, a private theater, and stables filled with horses for you to ride at your leisure. Or, if you like to read, our library has thousands of books—some dating back to the sixteenth century, went on. We even have direct access to the Hudson River! He boasted. The house itself is planted on over thirty acres, with fields and fields of wildflowers and gardens. Would you believe that we hired a whole crew of gardeners last spring to plant fifty thousand flower bulbs? I shook my head in awe. One of Vivien’s favorite things to do is sit out on the patio and eat her breakfast in the middle of the rose gardens. Why don’t you tell her about it, my dear?

She turned to me, her lips pursed. One of my favorite things to do is sit on the patio and eat my breakfast in the middle of the rose gardens, she mocked, glancing back up at Lawrence with blatant annoyance before rolling her eyes and turning back to face the window. At that point, I didn’t really know what to think of my grandmother, and her husband. However, he seemed not to notice her behavior. I felt like he was trying to sell me his house.

Oh! And you won’t be alone, either, Lawrence continued. My son Preston is coming home from college for a while. He’s quite eager to meet you.

Son? He has a son? Would it be his son, or he and Vivien’s son? My mother never made any mention of him.

Alright, Hope, we’re coming upon Van Steenburgh Manor, Lawrence announced, his face brightening with the same excitement of a five year old getting the toy he’d been wanting. Look out carefully to your right, and you’ll come upon a break in the trees. That’s when you’ll see your first glimpse of your new home.

I looked out to my right—past Vivien—and I felt myself tremble with anticipation. There were lots of big homes along the road we were taking. Very large estates, buried deep in the trees, down long winding drives. All along the way, Lawrence told me about this estate, or that estate. One belonged to an artist, one belonged to a President, and one belonged to a railroad tycoon. But then, I saw it! Van Steenburgh Manor! It looked like a beautiful stone palace perched on a hill out in the distance. It was gigantic, and I must admit, I was very impressed.

Exceptional, isn’t it? He said it more as a statement, rather than a question. I was suddenly beyond overwhelmed.

And if I weren’t impressed enough at first sight, when we actually pulled up the winding drive leading up to the French Renaissance-inspired palace it took my breath away! We passed through an extravagant pair of regal, iron gates, and we followed a long tree-lined driveway that led up to the front entrance. When I got out of the limo, all I could do was just stare up at it in awe. While Charles got out to grab my bags, and Vivien went ahead inside, I caught myself standing there, just gazing up at this magnificent palace.

Pardon?

I whirled around and looked up at a confused Lawrence. My look was blank.

You had said something, he prompted. I honestly had no idea what I might’ve said.

Oh, nothing. I must’ve been talking to myself, I explained. Don’t mind me, I do it often. Mother always told me that it’s a bad habit I need to break.

He laughed. Your mother would say that. I talk to myself all the time, and I’ve never seen anything wrong with it!

He led me through the dramatic, heavy wooden doors, and my footsteps echoed throughout the foyer. There were floors of stone, Oriental rugs, and straight across the grand space was a set of French terrace doors. Lawrence chattered on, and informed me that beyond those doors was a ballroom. Off to the right, there was a huge formal dining area which Lawrence informed me was hardly ever used; with a fireplace that stood about fifteen feet high, and a long, cherry-stained table that I guessed had probably seen some grand affairs in its time. His office was here on the main floor as well, and so was the library—just beyond the staircase, down the gallery. It was exhausting trying to take it all in as he pointed and walked.

To my left was a grand staircase which winded up and around to the second level. He was telling me about an east wing, and something about a west wing… He took me up the staircase, and just at the top there was a huge window with view of the grounds, and the many rolling hills, and when you looked down, you were looking over the front foyer that we’d just entered. Looking back out the window, in the distance, you could see the sparkling water of the Hudson that he had mentioned, nestled before the hazy gray outline of mountains. The view was spectacular!

Now, here on the second floor are most of the suites, he explained. There is a living area up here as well, if you go down the corridor, and then you’ll find another one on the east wing, as well. At the end of each wing are our biggest guest suites, which are unique because they’re shaped in a perfect oval, but usually Vivien’s mother stays in the one here in the west wing, and other guests of honor use the other. There are thirty guest suites, total. The rest of them are upstairs on the third floor, which is only accessible from the two staircases you’ll find beyond doors at the end of each wing, he explained. I got lost and confused just listening to him.

I followed him down a hallway, and we passed by two doors before he opened one, leading me into a lavishly decorated suite complete with a sitting area, and a king-sized, four-poster bed. The furniture was stained a dark cherry color, which shone brilliantly in the sunlight, and everything was decorated in whites and different shades of purples. The room was three times bigger than the one I was used to, and looking straight ahead was a set of French terrace doors like the ones that led to the ballroom, with sheer white curtains hanging on each door. To the left, there was a door that led to my bathroom of Italian marble, with white and black towels and white, fluffy rugs. Another door led to what must’ve been my closet. It seemed like an eternity as I stood there, taking a good look around, full of anxiety, and fearing I would take forever to learn my way around this gigantic house.

This was your mother’s bedroom, Lawrence spoke softly, snapping my attention and my gaze back onto him. His eyes glassed over as I’d seen my mother’s do so many times before, when she was lost in her sea of memories. When she and her mother moved in, she was fourteen. I wanted so much for her to like it here, and I had this whole room redecorated especially for her. Her favorite colors. Luxuries little girls only dream of... Then he took a deep breath, and blinked, coming back to reality. I hope you enjoy it. He walked across the room to the set of glass doors, and after unlocking them; he opened them and looked outside. This balcony stretches across the whole front side of this wing, he informed me. So you share this with all the suites on this side. You’ll find that there is a wonderful view of the river, and the Catskill Mountains. His eyes explored mine for a brief moment. Anyhow, I know you need to get settled in. You have awhile yet before dinner, so feel free to roam about the house, or the grounds, or really just do whatever you like. Though I warn you to not enter the woods just yet. I wouldn’t want you getting lost. Wait at least until you have an afternoon to kill.

Okay.

I once had a child lost in those woods during a dinner party, he told me. Had all the servants running about, and searching for him. He laughed, shaking his head. Also, don’t be afraid to talk to the servants. They certainly won’t mind the company. Servants. Did they still call them that, these days? I nodded, and he headed to the door. I’ll leave you alone, now, and let you unpack. There are a few outfits in that closet, already. Gowns, summer dresses, that sort of thing. If they fit, feel free to wear them if you like, but I do intend on taking you out to shop for a new wardrobe soon enough. He paused, looking at me with something in his eyes I simply couldn’t recognize. Welcome home, he spoke gently, his smile warm.

Then he simply turned, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

I looked about the room, and then slowly sat down onto the bed. My bed. The room faintly smelled of lemon—probably the cleaner that was used to polish the wooden fixtures. My father had always told me that the Lord works in mysterious ways. Mother always followed up on that by saying everything happens for a reason. I needed to be strong. I had to look toward the future, and make the best of my situation. It seemed that now I had the world at my fingertips, and I was grateful that Lawrence welcomed me with open arms, and made me feel at home. It was obvious that Vivien was reluctant, but I was sure that in time, she would grow to need me, love me, want me, and take care of me. I was, after all, a part of her, and the daughter that she valued so much. Fate had indeed taken an ugly turn when it took my parents from me, but there had to have been a reason. I was here for a reason. I just needed to be patient, and understanding. And strong.

I stepped into my new bathroom and let my toes sink into its big white fluffy rugs. I ran my fingers along the marble countertops, and admired the large tub that gave me the sudden urge to fill it with hot steamy water, and bubbles. I realized how emotionally drained I really was, but next went to the closet to take a look there, as well. It was the size of my old bedroom back home, and inside there were expensive gowns, cocktail dresses, summer dresses, and coats of fur, leather, wool… Taking a closer look, I noticed that they were all about my size. Oddly enough, although I reasoned that they could have belonged to my