Page 4 of Forgotten No More

“I really must be going.”

He wanted nothing less than for her to go. But he also knew the dangers of someone stumbling upon them alone together. “That would be wise. May I escort you to the ballroom?”

Ruby stood, smoothing the creases she’d wrung into her dress. “No, thank you. That will raise suspicion, as well.” She stared at him as if taking stock. “Can I trust you will not speak a word of this to anyone?”

He was unsure exactly who he was to speak a word to, but at that precise moment he’d promise her anything…and everything, if only she’d stay. “Not a word shall cross my lips.”

“Thank you,” she said. “…Harold.”

Harold adored the sound of his name on her lips.

She stood to leave, her dress rustling as she moved toward the door.

Making her escape.

Her captivating spell over him broke, freeing them both.

“Ruby,” he called from his seat.

“Yes?” From her muffled tone he knew she still faced away from him, just as he faced away from her.

“You look absolutely stunning this evening.” He’d intended to say so many things: encourage her to think of Lady Haversham when putting herself in less-than-savory positions, or to curb her cursing while about town. Instead, he’d blurted the exact thing he’d been thinking since she entered the room. “Please be careful in your future endeavors.”

He heard the door open on well-oiled hinges and the click of it closing.

“Until we meet again, my sweet,” he mumbled to the empty room and downed the rest of his drink.

Chapter 2

What had she been thinking?

She hadn’t been thinking. At least, not clearly since she’d found her mother’s journal. She’d only sought to find answers—but hadn’t thought about the cost.

And by the night’s end, the cost may well outweigh the reward.

The crackle of the fire in the room she’d fled was the only sound in the abandoned hall, seeping under the door and echoing around her. Satin-covered feet glided toward the grand staircase as she made her way back to the crowded ballroom below. As she descended, the laughter and music from the festivities below greeted her.

She needed to be more careful in her search, more vigilant in her movements, and more alert to her surroundings.

What if she’d been found by the lord of the house or one of his servants? She could have claimed she’d been lost or feigned confusion and made her way hastily downstairs. Or would she have the nerve to ask Lord Yorkton the question that tore at her?

Had he fathered a child, out of wedlock, with Mrs. Pearl St. Augustin?

The question sounded absurd. She could only imagine how insane the words would be spoken aloud; not only to Lord Yorkton, but to every man on her growing list of potential fathers.

Father—the term clawed at her. All of her preconceived notions about the word were null and void. She’d called a most loving, nurturing man ‘father’ for her whole thirty-two years. He’d attended her play tea parties as a toddler, bought her fetching muslin dresses as a child, and taught her to ride a horse in her youth. The day they’d put him in the ground had been surreal. She remembered the long walk to the family burial plot at the back of their property, following the carriage, her father’s casket inside. No young girl, still in the schoolroom, should have to experience the loss of a parent.

She’d reached out numerous times that day for her mother’s hand—she did not know if she sought to receive comfort or to give it—but her mother always walked just out of her reach. Her mind’s eye saw her mother so clearly as she’d appeared that day, and the many days that followed. She hadn’t shed a single tear. Ruby never heard her cry herself to sleep as she herself had done for weeks after his death; she’d never had that faraway look most had when they tried to relive fond memories.

Her mother’s lack of grief hadn’t alarmed her then. Pearl St. Augustin had always been distant and aloof. It was only now that Ruby realized her mother had been in a perpetual state of grief since before Ruby had been born.

Had her father known of her mother’s deception? If so, he’d sought to make up for her mother’s coldness with his ever-present attention and love. He was a man above all men, not seeking to punish the child for the sins of her mother. Part of Ruby yearned to also forgive Pearl, to erase the years of hurt and loneliness and face the future united together, whatever the outcome.

She wiped away the wayward tear that fled down her face. Now wasn’t the time—truly, she wasn’t sure the time to grieve the loss of the man who’d raised her, for a second time, would ever come.

“Damnation, Mother!” Ruby cursed under her breath as she moved through the milling people toward the veranda, avoiding eye contact. Now was not the time, she scolded herself. She’d let Lady Haversham’s coachman know she’d only be thirty minutes and to keep the carriage in the drive. With the time it had taken her to slip into the house and then upstairs unnoticed, an hour had passed more quickly than she’d thought possible.

As she moved through the crowd, nodding to the few people who’d made her acquaintance in her short time about town, she heard the ramblings of guests.