The Honorable Choice (Victorian Love Book 2)

by M. A. Nichols

  Ruby’s chin trembled, and she met Mary’s gaze with wet eyes. Holding firm in her conviction, Mary’s heart swelled, pressed against her chest as she silently willed this poor young lady to feel the truth of her words.

  “Thank you,” said Ruby with a tremulous voice.

  Mary brought her arms around the lady once more and held her tight. When she released her, both were dabbing at their cheeks and wiping their eyes, but there was a glimmer of light beneath Ruby’s sorrow, and Mary felt all the lighter for seeing it. The war for Ruby’s trust would not be won after one battle, but she was gaining ground, and that was a victory worth celebrating.

  “Now,” said Mary, clearing her throat and using her handkerchief, “as your newly appointed mother, I wish to ask you about how you are faring.”

  Ruby’s brows rose, and there was the hint of a smile breaking through the remnant tears. “How am I faring?”

  Shaking her head at her own wording, Mary clarified, “I was thinking of…” she stumbled over the words but pressed through. “…everything else.”

  She sounded like a simpleton, but Mary continued on, hoping that her words would begin making sense. “I have wanted to ask but didn’t think it my place to speak to you about it. I had thought your mother was comforting and supporting you in this difficult time, but it’s clear she is not. And now, it strikes me that you have no one else to speak to.”

  There was a brief pause before Ruby answered. “I cannot talk to you about him.”

  “Lucas? Or Conrad?”

  Ruby shook her head, ducking her face in that defeated manner of hers. “Both.”

  “You are my daughter now,” said Mary, tugging on Ruby’s hands until she raised her gaze once more. “They are my sons, and I love them, but I am not blind to their faults. I fight to help them overcome their weaknesses and struggle at times when they fall short, but there is nothing you can say that I do not know about them.”

  Mary paused as a fresh sheen of tears pricked at her eyes, her breath seizing in her chest for a brief moment. “There was a time when I had no one but myself to rely on, and I know how lonely that can be. You are not alone. Not any longer.”

  Ruby gave another shuddering breath and began to weep anew, and Mary was there, holding her together as the poor girl’s heart overflowed.

  *

  Having never been one to gather friends, there were few Ruby called confidants. There were young ladies who chatted with her at functions and with whom she even passed the odd afternoon, but hardly a one of them had whiled away the hours speaking about such personal things. Not as Mrs. Ashbrook was doing. Mother.

  It seemed wrong to call her that, but Ruby’s heart warmed at the implication. The lady seemed so earnest that it was difficult to think of her as anything else but Mother.

  So, Ruby talked. About so many things. It was frightfully freeing. There were some barriers guarding the darkest corners of her soul—ones that Ruby herself was not ready to face, let alone allow another to see—and those could not be breached. Not yet. But many of the walls that had kept the pair at a distance crumbled as she spoke, allowing Mother Ashbrook to see her true self. She’d never thought of herself as talkative, yet as Mother merely prodded and prompted her along, Ruby continued to speak.

  Then she heard Conrad’s footfalls on the front steps.

  Coming to her feet, Ruby brushed at her face and turned away from the parlor door.

  “Ruby?” asked Mother, coming to her side, but Ruby shook her head. Her eye caught sight of the wretched letter on the floor, and she scooped it and the one Mama had returned, tossing it into the fireplace.

  Pressing a hand to her cheeks, Ruby wished she could calm the flush of her skin, but the reality of all she had said and done invaded her thoughts.

  “You have nothing to be ashamed of,” said Mother, coming over to place a gentle hand on Ruby’s forearm.

  “It does not feel that way.”

  But Mother nudged Ruby’s chin upwards. “I cannot express just how pleased I am that you have confided in me.” And before Ruby could ask the question, Mother added, “Truly, I do.”

  “Please do not tell Conrad about this,” she said, hating her desperate tone. Casting her eyes to the parlor door, she held her breath as she heard him make his way to the library to retrieve whatever book he would read until dinner. “It has been so peaceful between us of late. I do not wish to upset things now.”

  “Don’t be silly,” said Mother, her brows furrowing. “You would feel better if you spoke to him.”

  Ruby shook her head, turning her gaze to the floor once more. “I cannot burden him further. He has already done so much for me.”

  Coming to stand just before her, Mother waited until Ruby willingly raised her eyes once more. “You cannot hope to build a good marriage with Conrad without trust. Secrets hurt.”

  “The truth hurts as well.” Ruby sighed. “I have spent too much of our marriage mourning over that which cannot be changed, and I do not want to give him cause to think I regret his sacrifice.”

  “Conrad will never regret doing what was right, Ruby. And you cannot shield him from pain.” Mother reached forward and took Ruby’s hands in hers. The lady’s eyes were the gray of a storm-tossed sea and held the same power and majesty. “Hearing your pain today hurt me because I feel it as though it were my own, but I am overjoyed that you did so. Keeping those we love at a distance causes more pain than sharing our heartache. It is better to bear it together than shoulder it alone.”

  Ruby’s shoulders drooped. “But Conrad doesn’t love me.”

  “Perhaps not yet, but he does care about you. That is a beginning,” she said with a faint smile. “You cannot hope for anything more if you two insist on standing alone—”

  “Mother?” Conrad strode into the parlor with a book tucked under his arm. “I thought I heard your voice. Are you joining us for dinner?”

  Ruby straightened and pulled on the last reserves of her strength to meet her husband’s gaze.

  “Are you unwell?” he asked, coming over to help her to the sofa, but she stopped herself from sitting. Conrad’s eyes darted between her and Mother, his expression tightening. “What is the matter? You both look as though you’ve been crying.”

  “It is nothing. Just a trifle,” said Ruby, forcing a smile. “But I must speak to Mrs. Seymour about dinner.”

  Without waiting for a reply, she strode from the room and slipped into the hallway. Pausing at the door, Ruby struggled between the pull of propriety and the fear that Mrs. Ashbrook might break her confidence. Ruby stepped out of sight and pressed herself against the wall with an ear towards the doorway.

  “What was that about?” came Conrad’s voice. “It’s clear something has upset her.”

  Ruby’s breath caught, and she held it as she awaited the response.

  “That is something you should ask your wife.”

  “I did, and she would not tell me. But you know something.”

  There was a long pause, and Ruby wished she could see what silent communications passed between them, but a breath later, Mother replied.

  “I do, but they are not my secrets to share. Speak with Ruby if you wish to know what has passed,” she said in a tone that demanded her son leave it alone.

  Ruby’s head slid backward, resting against the wall. Perhaps Mother Ashbrook was right, but today was not the day to discuss such things. Perhaps when she had more time to ponder Mama’s note, or when her marriage was on stronger footing, she would. But not tonight. Not yet.

  Chapter 15

  The Goodlands had spared no expense for the dinner party. The table was arrayed with a sumptuous feast, filled to the point where the wood groaned. Candles lit every corner of the room and blazed above them, and what wasn’t filled with food or flames was adorned with flowers; the Goodlands must have bought out every florist in Greater Edgerton.

  Yet Conrad struggled to enjoy the meal or company.

  Though the Goodlands had not spoken
a word as to the reason behind the dinner party, no one in attendance was in any doubt that a grand announcement was forthcoming.

  Seated at opposite ends of the table, Vincent and Miss Goodland spent more time gazing at each other than eating or conversing with their companions. Conrad’s eyes darted between his older brother and the lady, each seated in the place of honor with their families gathered around. No, there was no mistaking the purpose of this dinner.

  Poking at his food, Conrad relaxed his expression, attempting a casual air, but he struggled to understand his own heart in the matter. There was no twist of jealousy. No bitterness. None of those spiteful, horrid emotions that begrudged the joy of others. Conrad had married Ruby for this very reason. Vincent adored Miss Goodland as much as any man can love a woman, and Conrad couldn’t have stood by and allowed the sweethearts to be parted when he had the power to give them this happy future.

  No, Conrad did not fault his brother’s good fortune, but watching the pair’s joy filling the room brought an ache to his chest and a heaviness to his heart.

  Glancing at his wife, Conrad watched Ruby chatting with Miss Goodland’s brother. That pinched, displeased quality to her expression had eased over the weeks, but there was still something so cold and distant to her demeanor. He tried to picture her playing the lovesick bride, gazing at him with longing eyes as Miss Goodland looked upon Vincent, and found the image ridiculous.

  “Good evening, our dear families,” said Mr. Goodland, standing at the head of the table and drawing all eyes to him. “It is such a blessing to have us all together tonight…”

  Mr. Goodland paused a moment and gave Vincent a hearty smile of approval. “I have had the pleasure of becoming better acquainted with Mr. Vincent Ashbrook, and the more I come to know him, the more I admire him. And it is my profound pleasure to announce that my dear Cleo…”

  Yet another pause and Mr. Goodland made a valiant attempt to retain his composure, but there was no hiding the pleasure he felt as he gazed upon his eldest daughter seated beside him. “…has consented to become his wife.”

  Though it was no surprise to the guests, each sounded their excitement for the news as Vincent came round the table to join Miss Goodland at the head; she threaded her arm through his and Vincent placed a hand atop hers as the pair beamed at the party.

  Taking his glass in hand, Mr. Goodland lifted it. “Please raise a glass to the couple. To my daughter and soon-to-be son.”

  As the drinks were raised, Vincent took a ring from his pocket and slid it on Miss Goodland’s finger, placing a soft kiss there as his fiancée blushed.

  Conrad raised his glass with all the earnest good wishes he had in his heart, giving a hearty echo of congratulations to the couple, and drank to their health and happiness. The previous sadness melted away with the warmth and pleasure he felt; whatever else may come, Conrad had given them this future together. That would be enough.

  Toasts abounded, and soon the party abandoned their seats and retired to the drawing room, forsaking the usual after-dinner traditions so they might celebrate together. There were warm wishes and embraces all around, and Conrad watched from afar; witnessing their felicity helped ease the sadness from his heart.

  Vincent’s eyes turned from his love and met his brother’s. There were enough people gathered around the couple that Conrad felt no desire to wade through to give his brother the congratulations he deserved to hear, and there was time enough for that later. With a wide smile, Conrad gave him a nod, but Vincent’s brows drew together, and his eyes fell away with a flash of pain.

  With a cock of his head, Conrad watched his brother, wishing he understood what was discoloring the joyful moment, but Vincent would not meet Conrad’s gaze again, and before long, the crowd had the young man swept up in their fervor, the unpleasant sentiment forgotten.

  Conrad’s gaze moved to his wife, and he watched Ruby join in the revelries. He had not seen her smile much—she’d had little enough reason to—and it surprised him to see how much it transformed her. This was not the stern or cowering woman he’d come to know. Ruby was not the type to ever be deemed beautiful, but she had a presence about her that drew the eye. A stately, calm sort of air.

  Ruby smiled and chatted with the other guests, looking content with the world for the first time in their acquaintance, and Conrad wondered if she felt any of the longing or disappointment plaguing him. Was there any part of her that wished she’d had a proper engagement? Or a marriage to be celebrated, rather than rushed and hidden away? That the ring on her finger was more than a plain band of gold? At the very least, Conrad ought to have chosen it, but the ring had been shoved into his hand during the ceremony without explanation as to its origins.

  “And how do you fare this evening?” asked Mother, coming to stand beside him.

  Sliding a sideways look at her, Conrad knew it was no mere polite inquiry, nor was the person asking it going to be thrown over with a vague reply. “I am pleased for my brother.”

  Mother’s brows rose.

  Conrad’s lowered in response. “Is that so surprising?”

  Reaching over, Mother slipped her arm through his, taking it in a firm hold. “You are standing here by yourself, abstaining from the festivities and looking quite pensive. It paints a rather dour picture. And a bit of jealousy would be understandable, Conrad. His happiness has come at the cost of yours.”

  Conrad turned his head to look at her more fully. “Is that why Vincent keeps looking at me strangely? I have hardly heard from him in weeks, and now, he seems to wince whenever he meets my gaze.”

  Mother rubbed at his forearm, her light eyes dimming. “He is the older brother and feels guilty that you were made to take his place at Ruby’s side.”

  Shaking his head, Conrad looked at Vincent. “That is ridiculous. I volunteered to shoulder this burden, and he has done no wrong in seizing the happiness I wished for him.”

  Mother stiffened. “Burden? Do you still think of Ruby that way?”

  “A poor choice of words.”

  “But honest ones, I think,” she murmured, her brows drawing tight together.

  Conrad sighed, his gaze traveling to his wife, who stood among a group of Goodland ladies. “I have found peace in our marriage, but Ruby is not the woman I’d have chosen for my wife. I had hoped for something better than merely rubbing along.”

  The room was abuzz with guests wandering to and fro and drinks rising to toast the couple anew, but Conrad found himself focused solely on the silence beside him. It was several long moments before Mother spoke again.

  “I freely admit I did not have the highest opinion of your Ruby when I first met her. Her expression too often displays displeasure she does not feel,” said Mother, her tone warming as she watched her daughter-in-law. She gave a little huff and shook her head. “In truth, she reminds me of myself in so many ways—raised in homes where acceptance comes at the price of unquestioning obedience, and all are expected to sacrifice to better the family’s standing.”

  Stepping around to face him, Mother held his gaze with eyes tainted by the beginnings of tears. “I allowed those experiences to twist me into a bitter and angry creature, who lashed out at everyone and everything to hurt them before they could do the same to me. It was a miracle your father saw past that unhappy exterior and helped me to become the person I am. Whereas Ruby has held onto her kind and forgiving nature, refusing to allow her parents’ cruelty to twist her into something dark and spiteful.”

  Mother paused, and a light gleamed in her eyes, her smile widening. It was a look filled with admiration and love; the type of look Mary Ashbrook reserved for those she held dearest to her. “The lady I have come to know is quite extraordinary, Conrad. Perhaps one of the most courageous people I’ve ever met.”

  Conrad’s brows shot upward. “I will gladly admit that Ruby is a kind soul, but I would hardly say she is courageous. She shivers and shakes at the slightest provocation.”

  But Mother leveled a disapprovi
ng look at him. “Courage comes in many forms. Ruby will be a blessing in your life if you will let her.”

  She spoke with such passion and certainty that Conrad’s heart warmed and lightened in response because it so desperately wanted to believe her.

  “But how am I to discover that when she withdraws from me?” he asked. “I had thought things were progressing, but last week made it clear I was wrong. I know something is amiss, but she will not speak to me of it.”

  Mother’s expression fell, her eyes offering up a silent apology. “It is not always easy to trust, and Ruby is struggling with much more than that. But rather than focusing on all the reasons she is not the woman you’d have chosen for yourself might I suggest you look for signs that she is the right one? If you allow her faults to be the first thing you see, you will never be happy together.”

  “You think me that petty?”

  “Not petty, but human,” she said with a shake of her head. “It is easy to allow circumstances to dictate our happiness when often it’s a matter of seeing the good and overlooking the bad.”

  Conrad’s shoulders fell. “If it were only that simple to love someone.”

  “And why isn’t it? Do you think love is some cosmic thing that strikes without thought or reason? There are times when love comes naturally, but not always. Sometimes it takes effort to love another, but that does not make it a lesser emotion.”

  He nodded as he knew he ought, but Conrad had no response to that. What could he say? Though he’d never loved a woman before, he’d expected it to be natural and not an artificial construct.

  Mother’s expression shuttered, her lungs taking in a slow breath as she clasped her hands before her. For several quiet moments, she stood there, watching her son, and with a furtive look around her, she turned her eyes to the floor.

  “I know you do not believe me, but I have witnessed it in my own life. With you.” His mother’s cheeks paled, and she pressed a hand to her middle as Conrad stood there blinking like a simpleton.