Motherhood was supposed to be a happy thing. The glowing smiles that came with the announcement. The excitement of each milestone met. Ruby had seen many a husband and wife wait with bated breath for the babe’s birth, reveling in every moment.
Chin trembling, Ruby pinched her lips together as the tightness in her chest grew. Mother. A title she had always desired. How wrong she’d been.
Footsteps sounded in the hall, and Ruby shot upright—and immediately regretted the movement. Struggling to keep another wave of sickness at bay, she scooted backward and leaned against the bedchamber door.
“Ruby?” whispered Conrad.
The handle turned, but Ruby pushed against the door. Cringing, she closed her ears to his calls. Her troubled stomach dropped as he knocked and tried the handle once more.
“Return to bed,” she said. Though the room was dark, Ruby had left the curtains open in case she needed her bucket; casting her eyes around, she tried to find a place to hide it, but even if she could, there was no ridding the room of the stench. After all Conrad had done for her, she could not allow him to be subjected to this.
“What is the matter?”
Her thoughts spun, desperate to string together a coherent excuse. But the best she could manage was, “I was restless and didn’t want to wake you. I simply need to walk a little.”
There was a long silence, and Ruby’s face warmed as though it would combust. Her heart thudded as she waited for his response.
“I know something is the matter, Ruby. Please tell me what is going on.”
With great effort, she managed to clear her throat and say in a reasonably calm tone, “Nothing is the matter. Return to bed. I will be there soon.”
The door handle rattled as Conrad let it go. He spoke not another word, but Ruby felt the recrimination with each footfall. But once their bedchamber door was shut behind him, Ruby let out a shaky breath and sagged back down to the floor.
In all the time she’d spent daydreaming of what it would be like to have a family of her own, Ruby had never imagined it would be like this. With another shuddering breath, she wrapped her arms around herself and waited for her stomach to settle.
Chapter 9
Conrad hadn’t struggled with reverence during church in years. Though the sermons did not always stimulate his mind, he enjoyed the time for quiet reflection. However, it had grown more difficult in the passing weeks to feel the same peace and calm he usually found during worship. At present, pondering was anything but peaceful, nor did it provide any insight.
Gaze drifting from the pulpit, his eyes rested on the altar where he’d stood one month ago and pledged his troth to the stranger beside him. Ruby held her prayer book on her lap, her attention never wavering from the vicar, but Conrad found himself unable to listen to the words as their wedding played through his thoughts.
Shifting on the pew, Conrad wondered why it was that the benches were so decidedly uncomfortable. The straight back and narrow seat had not the slightest cushioning to ease his suffering. Vicars ought to insist on plush seating as the unyielding benches were reason enough to avoid church.
With the vicar’s final words spoken, Conrad shot to his feet, drawing curious looks from his parents and brother; though Ruby appeared not to notice, he sensed her attention on him. As there were several others between him and the aisle, he was left standing there as the others exited the pew. Once free, he offered up his arm to his wife, and they followed his parents and the stream of worshippers out of the church and into the yard.
Though everyone spoke in hushed tones within the hallowed walls, the volume rose quickly once they stepped into the sunshine and the parishioners began congregating in a different fashion. Vincent stepped around Conrad, weaving his way through the crowd to Miss Goodland’s side. Though his brother’s back was to him, Conrad sensed the joy radiating from Vincent as he caught sight of her, and it matched the glow in Miss Goodland’s expression when he approached. Conrad’s chest burned like the hot embers of a cooking fire, and he forced himself to look away from the happy couple.
But then his gaze fell to his parents, who walked a few steps ahead. He could not see his parents’ expressions, but Conrad caught hints of them as the couple leaned in to speak to one another. Mother held Father’s arm, and he returned it with equal fervor; they nodded and gave salutations to those in passing, but they were clearly content to remain at each other’s side.
From the corner of his eye, Conrad glanced at his wife, who could not be described as a blushing bride in even the broadest of interpretations. It struck him that they looked more akin to Ruby’s parents than his own, and Conrad struggled to keep his shoulders from sagging. It felt as though gravity had grown stronger in the past few weeks, making his body heavier and more difficult to keep upright.
A niggling thought worked its way into Conrad’s mind, and he brushed it aside. But even as he tried to build protections against the invader, it worked its way past his defenses. As he glanced at his mother and Miss Goodland, it was impossible not to notice the stark difference between them and his wife.
Conrad had never thought of Miss Goodland as anything more than Vincent’s sweetheart, but it was impossible not to feel a twinge of envy at his brother’s good fortune. Miss Goodland was engaging, lively, kind, and quite lovely. Conrad had never pictured a future with her, but the vague construct he’d once built of his future wife held much in common with her than Ruby.
A gentleman cannot—or rather, should not—marry until he has the means to provide for a wife and the inevitable children, and Conrad had only recently felt confident enough in his financial standing to contemplate that next step in life. And the mill had taken so much of his attention that there’d been precious little left to give to a lady. Now, the choice was made for him, and the lady was sullen, reserved, and silent.
His heart turned on him, chasing away such maudlin thoughts as his stomach sunk like a stone. Ruby did not deserve such condemnation. Conrad sighed inwardly. True, she was far from ideal, but she’d been hurt by Lucas’s actions as much as Conrad had. More, in fact. This marriage had been neither of their choosing, and he felt guilt twisting his gut because of those uncharitable thoughts.
But how did one have a happy marriage to a lady who seemed perpetually displeased with him? Who was forever unsmiling and sour? Who cowered and hid at the slightest provocation?
Mother patted Father’s arm and then cast a glance back at Ruby. “Might I borrow you for a moment? There are a few ladies you ought to meet.”
His wife looked to him, silently awaiting his approval. In turn, Mother’s eyes narrowed on him, and Conrad straightened, wondering what had raised her ire. But Mother led Ruby away before he had the opportunity to ask.
As the ladies moved away, a movement of Ruby’s hand drew Conrad’s gaze to the growing swell of her child, and he was struck by the image. Her child. Lucas’s child. It wasn’t as though he’d been ignorant of her condition before this moment, but it had been an abstract idea, and Conrad had not fully comprehended the full breadth of what that child meant to him.
He was to be a father. To Lucas’s child. His first child would not be his. Could he love it as he ought to? Would it ever be truly his?
The crowd was a teeming mass of conversations, and Conrad felt no interest in joining the throng. He preferred setting out for home immediately, but with the ladies engaged in social conquest, he had no choice but to remain where he was. However, Conrad was surprised to see his father clinging to the edges of the crowd as well.
“You’re not usually so reticent,” said Conrad, coming over to stand beside his father.
“I am in no mood to chatter on about nonsense.”
“But I thought that was your favorite subject,” he replied with a dry tone.
His father gave a mock scowl. “Impudent pup.”
Conrad felt a ghost of a smile come to his face, but it vanished when Father spoke.
“If I enter the fray, the gentlemen wi
ll inevitably hound me with speculation about what is to happen now that Preston is in the grips of a lock-out.”
Conrad straightened. “When did that happen?”
“This last week.” His father tugged at his jacket cuffs, his eyes wandering the crowd. “Preston’s Masters’ Association closed every mill in their town, hoping to impress upon the minds of the workers that they need the mills open.”
“By starving them?” Conrad’s voice rose, and he took a breath, forcing it into his constricting chest.
“And now, Mr. Culpepper is crowing over it to anyone who will listen—including the workers—claiming it a victory for mill owners,” said Father with a sigh. “The fool should not be permitted to speak. I do not understand why so many of the masters look to him for leadership.”
“As you have told me many times before, ‘Greed makes even the wise act the fool.’”
Father huffed, a wry smile curling his lips. “And alas, these gentlemen are rarely wise.”
Tucking his hands behind him, Conrad gave a genuine grin and looked over the crowd. His mother glanced at the pair of them, and though she smiled warmly at her husband, her gaze grew cold when it fell on her son.
“Can you explain why Mother is displeased with me? She has been scowling something fierce.”
“Your mother is fond of your Ruby,” said Ambrose, watching the pair of ladies as they made their way through the crowd, stopping at intervals to chat. “She spends most afternoons with her at Newland Place. I believe Ruby is even instructing her on the finer points of needlepoint. Your mother can sew as well as any lady, but her mother never bothered teaching her fancywork, and she is developing a taste for it under Ruby’s tutelage.”
Standing side-by-side as they were and being so preoccupied with his wife, Father did not see Conrad’s expression, which was for the best. Though he did not wish to be uncharitable enough to be incredulous that anyone would find Ruby’s company enjoyable, the thought slipped into his mind nonetheless.
“Your mother does not open her heart readily to anyone, but she has taken to Ruby, and it’s fair to say that your mother is none too pleased with how you treated her,” said Father, glancing at Conrad from the corner of his eye. When his son merely stared at him in response, Father’s brows rose as he met Conrad’s confused gaze with an incredulous one. “The incident with the furniture.”
Conrad fought the urge to gape like a carp. “You cannot be serious. It was hardly an ‘incident’ or anything of the sort. I was a little short with Ruby and nothing more. And I apologized. Must I wear sackcloth and ash? Flog myself in the town square? No matter what I do for her, it is never enough!”
Pressure built in his chest, and Conrad struggled to keep himself in check. Clenching his jaw, he drew in another deep breath, but there was too much roiling in his heart to be so easily calmed.
Father stepped in front of him, blocking them from casual glances. With brows drawn tight together, he watched his son with worried eyes as Conrad took a moment to compose himself. Dropping his own gaze, Conrad stared at the pavers beneath his feet.
Shoulders slumping, he sighed. “Without hesitation, I will admit I was harsh with her, but I only asked for her to return that which was dear to me. Nothing more. When I arrived home the next evening, everything was returned to its original place, but I did not demand it or even suggest she ought to. That was her choice. I simply wanted what was mine.”
Reaching forward, Father gripped his son’s arm, and though Conrad did not raise his gaze from his feet, he felt Father’s eyes on him. “Even the best marriages can have difficult beginnings as husband and wife come to build a life together, and yours began on more treacherous footing than most. I wish I could promise that all will be right in the end, but it is too early to cry retreat.”
“I have tried, Father—I have—but Ruby never speaks. She hardly looks at me, and when she does, it’s as though she’s reproaching me for all the evil in the world,” he said, his voice low enough not to carry to anyone else.
“I cannot imagine how difficult this must be for you. I hate that you have been put in this position, but do not think too harshly towards your wife,” said Father in equally hushed tones. He paused, his expression tightening as he thought through his words. “I love your mother as much as any person can love another, but I will fully admit that our courtship and early months were not easy for either of us. Life had taught her she was unwanted, and it was a battle to convince her that I loved her beyond reason.”
Conrad’s gaze jerked to his mother, and he watched her with a furrowed brow. Perhaps she was not the most handsome lady in attendance, but that was of no consequence. Mary Ashbrook was one of the most capable women he’d ever met. Though she did not have her husband’s social graces, she had a sharp wit and engaging mind, and Conrad had never been in doubt that his parents were a perfect match for one another.
“That is ridiculous.”
Father nodded. “My sentiments exactly. But it took time for her to unlearn the lessons she’s been taught. I fear Ruby is much the same.”
Conrad’s eyes met his father’s, and at his puzzled expression, the gentleman continued, “Think back to her parents. How would you describe them?”
“Dour.” The word popped out before Conrad thought better of it, but he couldn’t deny that it was an apt description.
“Her father is the sort who is only happy when he feels he is the most important person in the room,” said Father with a grimace. “I’ve always thought your Uncle Nicholas was pompous, but Mr. Jeffries puts him to shame. His ideology hails from the belief that as a man of money and status, he is imbued with a divine right to be lord and master of all he surveys. And what of Ruby’s mother?”
Conrad gave a vague wave of his hand. “I never spoke to her.”
Father’s brows rose with a pointed look as though that one statement clearly led to some insight. In the following silence, Conrad thought through it, trying to follow his father’s prompt.
“I don’t think she ever spoke the entire time she was in our house,” said Conrad. It was a ridiculous statement, but even as he tried to think of examples to contradict it, he was left with nothing. In fact, he could think of only a few instances where Ruby herself ever spoke a word during that time.
“Though not loquacious, your mother said Mrs. Jeffries spoke freely enough when the men were not present.” Father frowned and crossed his arms. “There are many who do not see the need for their wife to have a mind of her own, and I fear Mr. Jeffries ascribes to that philosophy. Ruby likely does not know there is any other way to live.”
Father paused a moment before adding. “It took some convincing before Ruby agreed to rearrange the house. After your reaction, she insisted on undoing all their work and will not listen to Mary when she says Ruby is free to make Newland Place her own.”
The weight of the past weeks pressed down on him, and Conrad wished he was hidden away in his library. “Why do I always feel the villain around her?”
Clamping a hand on Conrad’s shoulder, Father gave it a squeeze, his smile empathetic but unyielding. “These missteps will be a common occurrence until you two begin to understand each other, but it will get better with time. Have patience.”
It was sound advice, but not what Conrad wished to hear. “With all that I have already sacrificed for this union, must I give even more?”
Father’s brows rose at that, and though his eyes still held that touch of empathy, there was more steel to his gaze than before. “You both have sacrificed much, and I dare say you both are hurting because of it. But I will share something I wish I had understood earlier in my life—compromise is at the heart of every good marriage and friendship. You cannot hope to maintain a happy relationship with another if you focus solely on your needs and desires. You must surrender some to gain more.”
“You speak as though it’s easy,” said Conrad with a huff.
But his father merely shook his head with a half-smile. “I ne
ver said it was. If it were, there would be no unhappy marriages or no conflict in the world. But advice simply spoken isn’t any less true.”
*
Taking Ruby by the arm, Mrs. Ashbrook steered her towards yet another gathering of ladies. Ruby hadn’t thought her mother-in-law a social creature, but the lady was determined to greet every congregant. Holding onto a pleasant smile, Ruby shored her reserves and ignored the quiver in the pit of her stomach. At least that nervous flutter was due to her surroundings and would end soon enough.
“It is so good to see you returned to us at last, Mrs. Fowler,” said Mrs. Ashbrook. “I do hope your visit to Shropshire was pleasant.”
Mrs. Fowler beamed. “It was marvelous to see my son and his family. I wish they hadn’t settled so far away.”
“But it is a blessing that you can visit him so often,” said Mrs. Ashbrook.
The lady’s smile grew wider as she leaned towards Mrs. Ashbrook, as though sharing some great secret. “I hear tell that you have had a new addition to your family. Am I to assume the lady on your arm is the newest Mrs. Ashbrook?”
Ruby gave a curtsy as her mother-in-law made the introductions.
“We are most pleased to welcome you to the parish,” said Mrs. Fowler. “I only wish we’d been at home to receive you when you first arrived. Had I known Mr. Conrad was to be married, I would have returned home sooner.”
Mrs. Ashbrook gave a dismissive wave. “It was a quiet affair and took us all by surprise.”
Mrs. Fowler’s eyes sparkled, her smile growing wistful as she glanced at Ruby. “A whirlwind romance.”
Ruby tried not to flinch at the words, an itch running down her spine at the thought of leaving those false words uncontested. Silence was for the best, but it felt too close to a lie, and her conscience pricked at her.
“How lucky for you to have snagged him,” came another voice.
The Honorable Choice (Victorian Love Book 2) Page 9