Taking a deep breath, Ruby twisted the door handle and forced herself to step forward. Conrad had insisted she speak her mind, and she would not give him reason to be disappointed with her yet again.
“Ruby, how good to see you,” said Mrs. Ashbrook from her seat in front of the desk.
“I needed to speak with you concerning my plan to help the mill,” said Ruby, forcing the words out before cowardice got the better of her, which it would if given the opportunity.
“That does sound intriguing.” The lady put her pen aside and turned to greet her daughter-in-law. The autumn sun shone through the window, giving the lady all the light needed to work, and Ruby was rather astonished to see large ledgers strewn across the desk.
Ruby blinked at them and went through the motions of greeting Mrs. Ashbrook as she stared at the books. “That is more than the household accounts.”
Mrs. Ashbrook gave a faint wave at the records and led Ruby to the sofa. “They belong to the mill. Conrad and Mr. Fields handle the day-to-day finances, but I still like to review them on a regular basis.”
“You review the mill accounts?” asked Ruby, certain she had heard the lady incorrectly.
She gave another dismissive wave. “It is a role I took on years ago, and I do not care to part with it yet. But I am most curious to hear about your plan. What has got you in such a tizzy? I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you this…” Mrs. Ashbrook paused, her brow furrowing as she attempted to choose the proper word. “I cannot decide if you are anxious or animated. But you are certainly not your usual composed self.”
Ruby supposed she was both of those descriptors, and more so after witnessing such a strange scene, though it did give her an additional burst of determination. Surely, if Conrad and Mr. Ashbrook did not complain about Mrs. Ashbrook taking such liberties with the ledgers, they would not condemn her for proposing a dinner party.
“Conrad has spoken to me concerning the issues facing the mill,” she said, forcing herself not to shift in her seat. Clasping her hands in her lap, Ruby was able to maintain some semblance of decorum, though she couldn’t tell if her heart was speeding from the joy of having something useful to do or the fear that they’d find her paltry offerings ridiculous.
Sitting on the sofa opposite, Mrs. Ashbrook watched Ruby, her eyes smiling as she nodded for her to continue.
“One of the foremost concerns is the rising tensions between the masters. From what Conrad has said, I would hazard a guess that they rarely spend any time in each other’s company outside of their official capacity,” said Ruby. As she spoke, the doubts faded to the background, offering her only the occasional nervous rumble. “I would like to host a dinner party for them.”
The words came quicker, spurred by all the thoughts of what the evening could be. “I have seen the difference socializing can make. I belonged to several charitable organizations in Chesterton, and one of them struggled greatly because the ladies could not agree on anything. Many did not know each other well, so I invited them over for tea and cakes or to sew together. It did not inspire a sudden change, but passing a few hours together as friends forged stronger bonds and better understanding between us. They were more willing to forgive slights and assume the better of each other. I think it could do the same for the mill owners.”
Of course, it had nearly driven Ruby mad attempting to foster such relationships. Each visit had tested the limits of her nerves. It was not that she disliked people, but they made her so terribly fractious. One could never tell precisely how they would respond, and it was an endless battle to know what to say or do around them.
Mrs. Ashbrook watched Ruby with a curious tilt to her head, and she did not know the lady well enough to ascertain if it was a good sort of curious or a bad sort. That uncertainty pricked at Ruby, making her bite down on her lip. Her thoughts were entirely unhelpful as they tried to sort through the possible reactions her mother-in-law would have. Surely, it was not such a ridiculous suggestion.
“The reason I am speaking with you about this is that I will need your assistance.” Ruby paused, realizing how that must sound to Mrs. Ashbrook. “I am quite capable of organizing the majority of it, but I fear our dining room is not large enough to host such a gathering, and I do not know who to invite. I know it is a terrible imposition, but I promise I shall not burden you with—”
But Ruby’s ramblings were cut short as Mrs. Ashbrook beamed.
“That is a wonderful idea, Ruby. I have wanted to do something more to aid Ambrose and Conrad, but I fear I am not adept at hosting parties. My mother never saw fit to teach me such social niceties, and I fear I haven’t had the fortitude to attempt it on my own. Together, we can certainly do it.”
The pressure building in Ruby’s chest eased, freeing her to breathe once more. There was too much to do and still too much undecided for her heart to slow its rapid pace, but it was less strained than before. The mightiest step had been taken, and now, she simply must ensure the evening was a success.
Chapter 13
If there were any reason to call the forthcoming evening a blessing, it would be that the dinner party signaled the end of this madness. Conrad stood to one side of his parents’ dining room, watching his wife flutter around the table dressings. The servants had already addressed every issue that needed addressing, yet still Ruby examined the silverware, plates, and serviettes, making minute adjustments that looked no different than before.
Conrad was willing to admit that the array looked elegant, but that only served to emphasize just how tedious an evening this was bound to be.
Stepping away from the dining room, he left Ruby to her work, grateful that tonight marked the end of conversations concerning menus, invitations, decorations, and all the rest that accompanied it. For the past three weeks, the entirety of her attention had been focused on those topics, of which Conrad had no opinions to offer and even less interest in discussing.
Conrad moved through the hall and stepped into the parlor to find his mother sitting on a sofa, awaiting the arrival of their guests.
“Your father mustn’t be tardy,” she said, her brow furrowed. “I told him to dress for dinner a full half-hour before he started.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” came a breathy response as his father rounded the corner and strode into the parlor, giving his wife a kiss on the cheek as he took the seat beside her. Giving his son an assessing glance, he added, “You look as though you are facing a hangman’s noose.”
Conrad sighed and sat down on the armchair opposite. “I wish this silly dinner was done and over with.”
Father looked at him with a raised brow. “Silly?”
“Please say you have not called it that to Ruby,” said Mother with a sigh and shake of her head.
Lids lowering, Conrad scowled at the accusation. “I am not a simpleton. Of course, I have not said a word of my feelings to Ruby, though it is true. It is a dinner, nothing more. And certainly not worth the dither she is working herself into.”
Mother leveled a hard look at him. “She is working herself into a dither because she is desperate for this to be a success. This is just the sort of thing that can help us. I’ve wanted to do just the same myself on many an occasion, but I have not Ruby’s training and skill to organize a formal event. It is one thing for me to host a few friends, but anything more is liable to be a disaster.”
“You are an intelligent and capable woman, so don’t go spouting such nonsense,” said Father, turning a disapproving look on his wife.
But Mother matched that look with an equal measure of good humor. “You are kind, dearest, and I am not belittling myself for that gap in my education, but even you must admit I have not Ruby’s social graces.”
“I admit nothing.”
Turning away from her husband, Mother set her gaze on Conrad once more. She gave another tense sigh and shook her head at herself. “You should’ve seen how fretful Ruby was when she first posed the idea to me. For goodness’ sake, Conrad, she look
ed as though she expected me to laugh in her face or berate her for speaking out of turn, but this dinner party is a splendid idea.”
“Too true,” added Father. But before any of them could say another word, the door knocker sounded, and they heard Jensen open the door.
“Behave,” whispered his mother, as though she expected him to throw a proper temper tantrum right there and then.
Ruby swept into the room, brushing her hands down her silk skirts. Coming to Conrad’s side, she fidgeted with her clothes, straightening and tugging at various layers of fabric, though not one was out of place.
“They are here,” she murmured, the words sounding as dire as Conrad felt.
“Nothing will go amiss,” he said, offering up his arm.
Ruby turned her brown eyes to his, her brows twisted and pinched. “But tonight needs to be splendid.”
But before he could reassure her, the Bracegirdles entered and the evening began in earnest.
***
Despite memorizing the guests’ names, Ruby stumbled at times. Mrs. Leggatt had a similar look to Mrs. Fitzgibbon, and for some odd reason, she kept trying to call Mr. Nott by Mr. Hamstall’s name, but she was managing it well enough. A few smiles and compliments while being treated to fine food and drink at someone else’s expense was enough to smooth over any faux pas she may have committed.
Having never met the guests before tonight, Ruby hadn’t known what to expect. As a whole, they were older than she and her husband, leaving a clear gap between the others and themselves, but it served as testament to how important this evening was. Conrad was one of them, and it was high time they accepted his role in Newland Mills.
A flutter of energy coursed through her as she navigated the drawing room. The seating at dinner kept divisions from being pronounced, but there were clear factions forming during the card games.
Conrad and Mr. Ashbrook had spoken of Mr. Culpepper many a time, and from their description of him, she’d expected someone far more imposing than the gentleman holding court in one corner. At first glance, he was nothing more than a well-groomed man of middling height, coloring, and age, but as she watched him, he did convey a certain authority that drew in the others, though to Ruby’s thinking, it paled in comparison to Mr. Ashbrook’s affable air.
Glancing at her husband, Ruby felt the strain of the evening ease further as Conrad smiled at his companions around the card table. The Bixbys and Mrs. Bracegirdle laughed at something he said, and though she could not hear it, Ruby smiled in equal measure.
But then Mrs. Fitzgibbon drew her attention. The lady sat alone on a sofa at the edge of the room, and though she did not appear to be displeased, neither did she look as though she was enjoying herself. For a moment, Ruby wanted to pretend she had not seen it. The thought of initiating another conversation felt like a burden too great to bear after all she’d done.
There were too many variables and unknowns. Perhaps she would walk right over and find Mrs. Fitzgibbon an affable conversationalist. But perhaps she would not be, and Ruby had exhausted all the light conversation topics already with no thought as to what subject she could broach.
But desires to flee were one thing. Giving in to them was quite another. Ruby would not allow herself to be undone so easily.
***
Standing to one side of the drawing room, Mary watched for a quiet moment to speak to Ruby, but the young lady was a whirlwind of activity, moving from guest to guest as though she was as easy in these strangers’ company as Ambrose. More than that, Ruby gave no sign of the nerves Mary knew trembled beneath the surface as she cared for her guests.
When Ruby finally paused long enough, Mary pounced.
Coming up beside her daughter-in-law, Mary took the lady by the arm and leaned in close. “My dear, it is safe to say this evening is a veritable success. Far better than anything I could’ve planned on my own.”
Ruby’s cheeks pinked, and she ducked her face.
“Don’t be coy,” said Mary with a squeeze of her arm. “You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished. Though there are still problems aplenty facing Ambrose and Conrad, I do believe this has helped ease one of the greatest.”
“Truly?”
In that one word, Mary felt as though she were transported back through time to the moment she’d first fallen in love with Ambrose—when even the smallest kindness from others was rare and treasured. There was such a gleam of hope in Ruby’s eyes that Mary wanted to embrace her, but now was not the time for such displays.
“Truly,” echoed Mary, blinking back a sudden sheen of tears. “Be proud, Ruby.”
Though she doubted Ruby realized it, the young lady held tighter to Mary’s arm as the pair stood there, surveying their handiwork. Ruby insisted on dividing the honor and recognition evenly between the pair of them, but Mary knew the truth: Ruby had done the majority of it and deserved to feel elated over its success.
“Do you think Conrad is still unhappy?” asked Ruby, her shoulders dropping a fraction.
“Unhappy?”
Ruby nodded. “Though he has tried to hide it, I know he was not pleased about tonight. He would rather be reading at home.” She paused, watching her husband with wary eyes. “At times, he looks to be enjoying himself, but I cannot tell if it is feigned or in earnest.”
“Don’t fret,” she said, giving Ruby’s arm a pat. “Conrad enjoys a good party well enough, but we are too alike for him to be giddy over the prospect. He cannot stand politicking and was never one to flatter and play the verbal games so often required at such events. Ambrose and Lucas have the silver tongues that can flatter birds from their nests. Between the pair of them, they could get the masters all in line in a trice.”
Mary was smiling to herself until she noticed the tautness in Ruby’s arm. Glancing at her daughter-in-law, she saw the lady’s expression tight and pinched. It was only then that she realized who she’d been speaking about. She’d never had Ambrose’s way with people, and it was never more evident than at this moment.
“Conrad is not lacking,” said Ruby in a quiet tone. “He is as fine a master as Newland Mills could hope for and far better for the fact that he is nothing like Lucas.”
A flash of heat swept through Mary, drawing with it some choice words in defense of herself and the son Ruby had maligned, but Mary’s head ruled the day, bringing a cold shower of reality to drown it out.
“Ruby—” she began, but her daughter-in-law turned away.
“Mrs. Nott is in need of a partner,” said Ruby, taking several quick steps away to take the empty chair beside the older woman at a card table.
Mary tried to clear her throat, but it tightened. She wished for a bit of clear night air and a moment alone to collect herself, but there was no opportunity for that at present. How had she been so careless?
A hand brushed against her back, and Mary longed to bury herself in Ambrose’s embrace but settled for taking hold of his arm.
“Are you unwell?” he asked with an expression that still made Mary’s heart warm after all these years.
“Not when you are near, dearest.”
Ambrose’s brow quirked upwards. “And people say I am the one who is quick with my words.”
“It’s simply the truth,” replied Mary, resting her other hand on his forearm.
But her misdirection did not work—it never did—and Ambrose prompted her again.
“I forgot myself and mentioned Lucas to Ruby,” said Mary. “I know she needs to acclimate to hearing us speak of him in time, but her pain is still so fresh, and I should not have been so foolish.”
Watching the room, Mary’s mind drifted through all that had passed. “I only wish Lucas had explained himself.”
Ambrose was silent for a long moment before he answered. “He did.”
Mary shook her head. “There has to be more to it. There simply must be something Lucas isn’t telling us. He would never do such an awful thing for such a petty reason. I cannot accept he told us the whole of
the story, for if he did, then Lucas is a monster. How could the beautiful little boy we brought into this world turn out to be such a creature?”
Taking in a deep breath, Mary steeled herself against the pain radiating through her heart. She’d spoken such sentiments before, but they brought her no more peace now than the other times she’d uttered them.
“Mr. and Mrs. Ashbrook, you must join us for a hand,” said Mrs. Bixby, waving at them from the far side of the room.
The strain of the past few minutes wore on her, but Mary rallied her spirits, forcing a calm facade as Ambrose led them to the Bixbys’ table. There was nothing else to do but smile and pretend that naught was amiss. Those questions and sentiments still clung to her, but Mary doubted they’d ever dispel.
***
A dinner party should not be such an exhausting thing, but Conrad moved slowly through his nighttime ritual. Having forgone much of hers, Ruby was already tucked into bed, and the lamp at his bedside was turned low. Despite the socks on his feet, he felt the chill from the floor seeping into his toes, and he shivered. Hurrying across the room, he ducked into the bed, well and truly spent. His weight dipped the bed, making Ruby roll towards him. Her eyes snapped open, her gaze unfocused and bleary as she shifted away.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said as he snuffed the lamp’s flame.
“I dropped off so suddenly that I hadn’t realized I was falling asleep,” she mumbled, tucking the blankets closer.
Conrad settled into his pillow and stared out into the shadows, knowing there were words he needed to speak. Words Ruby deserved to hear. Perhaps it would be better to wait until morning, but there was something comforting about being masked in the darkness.
The Honorable Choice (Victorian Love Book 2) Page 12