His Tarnished Ruby

by Kelsey McKnight

  “Do you think it’s time for dinner, then?” Flora asked once her hair was relatively tame. “I miss Scottish food.”

  “You were gone less than two weeks.”

  “Two weeks without Scottish food is a long time. Now help me dress so we can go find something to eat.”

  ***

  No one was aware of what had happened between Flora and Jasper. Although she knew this, when she and Gwen strode into the feasting hall, she felt everyone watching her. It was almost as if everyone present was judging her. Of course everyone had always watched when she entered a room, but that night, it felt different.

  “You’re white as a ghost,” Gwen murmured as they took their seats at the head table.

  “Just tired,” she lied, plastering a smile upon her lips as maids and footmen began milling about the room with plates of food.

  Her gaze strayed toward Jasper’s group of friends. They were more somber and controlled than before, when their ringleader was around to goad them into drink. She waited to see if any looked her way—if they blamed her for their friend’s disappearance—but none did. They ate, drank, laughed, and talked as they always had. Flora knew no one was really watching her, but she felt uneasy all the same.

  Gwen was watching her out of the corner of her eye and pushed her cup toward her. “Drink.”

  “What is it?”

  “Just drink it.”

  “I don’t want to,” Flora told her, ripping her roll in half.

  “Just a bit,” Gwen pressed in a baby voice. “One teensy sip for me?” She batted her long eyelashes as her mouth split into a little grin. “It’ll help.”

  Flora warmed a bit at Gwen’s amusing manner. Having such a playful sister was always so uplifting. It always surprised everyone that she was the shyest and quietest of all the MacLeod girls. But Flora knew better. Her little Gwen was the most wild of the bunch when out of the company of strangers.

  She lifted the goblet to her lips and took a long swallow. It tasted bitter and nothing like the soothing honey she was used to. “Gwen, what is this swill?”

  “The supplier brought us bad wine last week. This is why he’s been fired. I’ve just finished speaking to you about it. Besides, it’s not that bad.”

  “Whatever this is, it’s terrible!”

  “Hence why he no longer brings our goods. What you have there is whisky. A newer batch. The older, and better tasting has already been sold to pay for more livestock.” She took a bite of a cooked carrot. “Really, does no one ever listen to me?”

  Flora groaned and drained her cup, then Gwen’s, then called for another. Usually her sister would by trying to pry the glass from her fingers, but that night, she stayed silent. Flora welcomed the relief the alcohol gave her and briefly thought that, maybe in her spinster years, she’d own a winery. Or perhaps move to America and make rum. She could pass her loveless years in a drunken stupor, living in the woods among all the wildlife.

  “Yes, just me and all the American bears and beavers and…rum…” she muttered over the lip of her cup.

  “What?” Gwen was barely containing a laugh.

  Flora felt her cheeks pink. “Nothing.”

  “Are you drunk yet?”

  “Well, the floor is spinning and I want to sleep, so I think that’s what it means.”

  “Good,” Gwen said shortly before rising from her chair.

  “Everything all right?” Penelope asked from farther down the table as she placed a squirming Ian on the floor.

  Flora nodded as she stood. “I’m just very tired from traveling.”

  “Verra drunk, from the look o’ it.” Drum laughed.

  “Leave her be,” Gwen ordered, stepping off the platform and gliding down the path through the tables. She took quite the place of the little mother when Charlotte was gone. “Come along, Flora.”

  “Can I come along too?” Ian asked hopefully, looking up at Flora.

  “Of course you can.” Flora held out her hand for him to take and they scurried from the room, following Gwen’s graceful stride.

  “Where are we goin’?” Ian questioned, excited to be on a nocturnal adventure.

  “Just to my chamber,” Flora explained. “I had a very long train ride and I’m very tired.”

  Ian huffed. “Oh, I thought we’d be doin’ somethin’ fun.”

  “A sleepover can be fun. Would you like to have a sleepover?”

  He grinned. “Aye, I would! What is it?”

  “Well, remember when you first came to live with us and you would sleep with Charlotte until you got your own room?”

  “Aye,” he answered as they began climbing the stairs.

  “It’s like that. You can sleep in my room tonight, and in the morning, maybe we’ll have breakfast in bed.”

  “Nanny never lets me eat in bed.”

  “Well, I don’t have a nanny anymore and I make my own rules,” Flora told him. Having him around was instantly lifting her mood. His young enthusiasm made her feel wistful of her own innocence.

  “Will you two hurry up?” Gwen groaned from Flora’s bedroom door as they came to the landing.

  Ian released Flora’s hand and scrambled down the hall to Gwen. “Miss Gwendolyn, may I have some hot chocolate?”

  “Miss Gwendolyn?” Flora mimicked. “My, how proper.”

  “He’s only like that when he wants something,” Gwen clarified as she opened the door for Ian.

  “I have manners!” he bellowed, climbing atop Flora’s bed and beginning to jump, causing several decorative pillows to tumble to the floor.

  Flora giggled and sat before the fire. The alcohol and Ian had loosened her greatly. “Gwen, ring for a maid. I think we could all do with a treat.”

  ***

  When the cakes and chocolates were eaten, and Ian was curled up asleep in Flora’s bed, she began to feel at home at last. With her closest sister by her side, she could pretend that everything was normal, completely ordinary. Although her subconscious still picked painfully at thoughts, filling them with regret and annoying whispers of what if…and the voices only got louder with every passing moment of silence.

  Flora looked at Gwen, who was polishing off the last of the tarts. She was so at ease, comfortable, and horridly quiet. Gwen hummed a bit to herself and twirled a curl around her finger as if she hadn’t a care in the world. It was as if she gave no thought to her elder sister’s suffering. The cow.

  “Aren’t you going to say something?” Flora snapped.

  Gwen’s fair brows rose in surprise. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re excused.” She crossed her arms and slumped deeper into her armchair. “Now, aren’t you going to pester me? Ask me a hundred questions?”

  “Why would I?” She sounded honestly befuddled. “You begged me not to, and I haven’t.”

  Flora bit her lip and slumped a bit in her chair. She had forbidden Gwen from speaking of Andrew. “Oh, I’d forgotten.”

  “If you’d like to tell me what happened, I’ll listen.”

  “I think I should.”

  Gwen nodded in agreement.

  Flora took a deep breath, letting the air fill her lungs, then exit slowly. “Well, you obviously know everything that happened until I left for London, so I’ll start from there. Charlie and I ran into Andrew as soon—”

  “Andrew?”

  “Andrew Philips. He’s friends with—”

  Gwen help up her hand. “Wait, yes, I remember him. Tall, red-haired, odd speech.”

  “His speech is fine. As I was saying, we were in the carriage when—”

  “So he no longer has a stutter?”

  Flora groaned in annoyance. “Gwendolyn, if you don’t stop interrupting me, I’ll never finish this story. Just let me speak.”

  Gwen pursed her lips dramatically and nodded for Flora to continue.

  “After Charlie and I ran into Andrew, Andrew started to come round fairly often. We had tea, went to an opera, and he invited me to his uncle’s ball. He…he told me th
at he…cared for me.”

  “That sounds lovely.”

  Flora ran her finger along the top of her china cup. “It was…until it wasn’t. Until I told him I couldn’t accept his adoration and left him in the snow, calling out to me to listen.”

  “Do you dislike him then?”

  “No, there was nothing to dislike.”

  “I see,” she murmured softly. “And then you decided to leave him?”

  “Well, when you say it so plainly, yes. That’s exactly what happened.”

  “Why?”

  “Everyone keeps asking that.” Flora hung her head low, practically placing it in her lap.

  Gwen snatched the top of her hair and yanked her upward as she used to do when they were children, then leaned back in her seat. “You can’t hide from me.”

  “Ouch! Gwen, you’re being a perfect monster.”

  “I believe the young man you abandoned could say the same about you,” Gwen retorted with a scowl. “What in the world happened to make you dislike him so?”

  “He’s a pure gentleman. After what happened with Jasper, I could never agree to allow him to grow closer to me.”

  Gwen’s sapphire eyes widened. “Mercy, Flora, I’d completely forgotten…you’re not…with child?”

  “No, thank goodness.”

  “Then what’s the matter?”

  “Don’t make me spell it out.”

  “Flora, I promise you that I will not mention Andrew again after this day. But you’re so much like when Drum returned without Penelope. Imagine who he would have been if not for her, and really think about whether you’re ready to leave Andrew forever.”

  “I’ve already left and it’s done,” she said, gazing into the dying embers of the fire.

  “Then I will never speak of him again.”

  When Gwen promised to leave all mention of Andrew behind, Flora believed her. Gwen was always kind, in that way. She knew when to meddle and when to steer clear of a topic. Flora was grateful for her, as she lay curled around Ian’s little body once Gwen had gone to her own room to sleep.

  Flora tried to focus on the little boy as they laid together in the dark. His small, five-year-old fingers gripped hers tightly and he kicked a bit in his sleep. She suppressed a laugh and pulled him closer, breathing in his little boy scent of milk and soap. In the summers he would be hot, sweaty, and smelling like grass and wet dog.

  She wondered if she’d even hold her own child like she held Ian. Flora had never thought far enough ahead for babies, only about settling down into marriage. But much of her time in London was spent worrying if she was in the family way and then, having Ian by her side again, it made her think how she would feel to have her own.

  On a whim, she quietly knocked twice on the wall above her headboard as she had done so many times in her life that the striped paper above her bed was slightly worn. Gwen crept in almost at once and slipped beneath the covers on the other side of Ian. Gwen took Flora’s free hand and squeezed her fingers tightly.

  Flora bit back the flood of painful sobs that burned the back of her throat. She and Gwen had always had a special bond. They were not twins; there was more than a year between them. But they shared a connection and could feel each other’s emotions. She hoped Gwen wasn’t feeling her pain at that moment. She hoped her little sister would never feel the thrashing defeat that buried itself deep in her chest, burning her lungs with every stifled breath.

  They lay together in the dark, listening to the waves crash along the cliffs below. Gwen held Flora’s hand as she wept the bitter tears of loss. And good to her word, Gwen stayed silent.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Flora had just finished her tea when she heard the sound of horses galloping toward the castle. She assumed it was just the usual messengers who came and went from the keep like clockwork, especially so close to tax season and Martinmas. So she strolled through the halls toward Conner’s study, where she planned to steal a few of his newer novels to bide her day.

  She curled up in an armchair, tucked away in an alcove, with a book featuring a wealthy princess and a handsome pirate king. The pair had just boarded the ship for the first time when the door crashed open with a bang. She glanced toward the noise and her eyes were instantly drawn to a toothy grin and a mane of wild orange hair.

  “Charlie?” she squawked, dropping her book to the floor and losing her place.

  “Obviously.” He strolled toward her, pausing at Conner’s desk to inspect a pickled specimen.

  Flora was too stunned by his sudden appearance to move. “What are you doing here?”

  “When I heard you ran back to Scotland, I said to myself, ‘Charlie, you dashing devil, trouble follows Flora wherever she goes and what better trouble is there in this world than you, Charles, Duke of Fenton?’”

  “So you immediately got on a train to follow me?”

  “What else was a man to do?”

  “Stay home in London and take care of your responsibilities?”

  He chuckled. “While you immerse yourself in a sea of kilts, leaving none for me? Hardly!”

  “I’m not immersing myself in anything, presently,” she grumbled. “But I am happy to see you.”

  “Who wouldn’t be?” He came to her chair and gave her a pat upon the head. “And I’ve even brought you a gift.”

  The corners of her lips rose. “A gift?”

  “Oh, yes. A wonderful surprise.”

  Flora felt her heart lift. Charlie was always a fantastic gift giver, mainly thanks to his interest in flying through his family’s unlimited funds with the wild abandon of a true blueblood. “What is it?”

  He produced a strand of thick ribbon from his coat pocket. “Put this on and I’ll take you to it.”

  Flora leaped up and allowed him to place the covering over her eyes. “Charlie, this is exactly what I needed right now.”

  “Oh, I know,” he replied as he took one of her hands and began leading her.

  She tried picturing where they were in the castle as they walked. But after several strange turns, Flora couldn’t imagine where they could be. She even thought Charlie might have been dragging her in circles. After the eighth set of stairs, Flora was flushed, sweaty, and completely annoyed.

  “How is it that we’ve gone up and down eight stairways when the castle is only four levels?”

  “I got lost,” he told her, his voice wavering through bouts of stifled giggles.

  Flora pulled her hand from Charlie’s grip. “I’m not moving another inch until you stop this nonsense.”

  “I’m sorry, Flora, just a few more steps. I promise that I’m finished taking the scenic route.”

  “Fine.” She allowed Charlie to lead her for a few moments more before he stopped her. “Finally. Can I take this blindfold off now?” When he didn’t respond, she called out, “Charlie?”

  A set of hands untied the ribbon, and Flora blinked several times as she tried to acclimate herself to the bright light. She was about to chastise Charlie for his theatrics when she found herself looking not at the joking duke, but at Andrew Philips.

  “Surprise!” Charlie cheered from off to the side, throwing his long arms in the air.

  Flora felt ill. The walls were closing in on her and she thought she might be sick. “Andrew?” she croaked.

  “Flora.” He nodded.

  “Well, this is no fun,” Charlie grumbled, sulking.

  She whipped toward him. “Is this nothing but a lark to you?”

  He huffed. “Of course not. I was just expecting a bit more positivity all around.”

  “I’m sorry, Flora,” Andrew cut in. “I thought…Charlie told me that you would be pleased.”

  She turned back to Andrew, but she couldn’t raise her eyes to look at his face. Instead, she stared at the floor. “It’s not that I’m displeased…it’s just…I’m…”

  “Surprised?” Charlie sang, his tone hopeful.

  “Do be quiet, Charles,” Andrew barked in a harsh, deep voice that
sounded very much unlike his own. Then his tone softened. “Flora, I’m terribly sorry this happened. Upsetting you wasn’t my intention at all.”

  “I know,” she responded with a small sniff. She was on the verge of tears, and not the delicate droplets that made a woman’s eyes glow like when Penelope wept, but ugly sobs that would blotch her face.

  Flora dared a glance at Andrew, who was staring at her openly. His face was almost unreadable. But his eyes had dark circles beneath them and there was a dusting of scruff on his jaw that she had never seen before. It looked as if he hadn’t slept in days.

  Charlie whistled, breaking the spell. “Well! What’s there to eat? I’m famished.”

  “Do be quiet, Charles!” Andrew snapped.

  “What’s this, then?” Drum had appeared in the doorway. He was fastening his sword around his waist.

  Andrew nodded to him. “Mr. MacGregor, how do you do?”

  Drum looked startled. He glanced at Flora, who shrugged in response. “Andrew Philips? What brings ye to Scotland?”

  “Andy and I fancied some fresh air,” Charlie said.

  “Then fancy a ride with me, Charlie?” Drum grinned. “Much more fresh air to be had out in the hills.”

  Charlie scoffed. “Goodness, no. It’s much too cold. My hands will get chapped.”

  “Will you both stay in the castle?” Gwen stood in the doorway of the sitting room.

  Flora felt the parlor was becoming exceedingly crowded, but she still said, “Yes, we have plenty of room.”

  “If it will be of no imposition?” Andrew’s eyes were trained on her.

  “Not at all!” Gwen exclaimed. “I’ll have the footmen bring up your things. Flora, why don’t you show our guests to the green and red rooms?”

  Flora nodded wordlessly, beckoning both to follow her. She led the way up both flights of stairs to the third floor, conscious of each and every one of Andrew’s footsteps behind her. When they got to the landing, she steered them right, where the nicer guest rooms were situated. To the left were smaller ones where Conner’s men, who didn’t fit above the stable, stayed.