Ruby Chadwick

by Ruby Chadwick (retail) (epub)

  Ruby reached out and took hold of the trembling hand, her heart full of pity for the proud elderly woman. ‘I’m so very sorry that you suffered so much. He must have been a terrible man to have treated you like that.’

  ‘No, Ruby, he wasn’t. He was a charming likeable man with a strong personality that drew people to him, men and women alike. He had a presence about him that very few men have. It’s not something one can emulate, it comes from within; such men are born with the gift of attracting people to them. They often are not aware of the power they possess, but having that power ensures them an easy life, for there will always be a woman to look after them. Whether as mother or lover, women will always be drawn to these men. That is what makes them weak, for they never have to strive for anything, as it comes naturally to them. It also prevents them from ever being capable of loving only one woman, when there are so many to choose from. I believe, even now, that if things had been different and I had been able to bring the money with me, he would never have been faithful. That type of man never is; they can’t help themselves. In a perverse way it’s part of their charm, for every woman thinks she will be the one who will finally tame him. Although, since he wasn’t prepared to take me in my shift, as the saying goes, I shall never know for sure.’

  She fell silent once again, and this time Ruby didn’t interrupt her reverie. She felt certain there was more to come and settled herself to wait for the conclusion, and, more important, the reason for the story. The silence stretched, and Ruby found her eyelids drooping, but she was jerked awake by the sound of harsh coughing. As quickly as she could, she went over to the sideboard, where the bottle of medicine stood ready. Measuring out two spoonfuls into a small glass vial, she carried it back to her mistress.

  Lady Caldworthy took the white chalky substance and swallowed it quickly, grimacing at the bitter taste. Then, wiping her mouth with a white-lace handkerchief, she motioned Ruby to resume her position beside her on the floor. ‘I’m sorry, my dear. Are you comfortable sitting on the floor? I sometimes forget your disability.’

  Ruby smiled warmly. ‘I’m perfectly comfortable, thank you, and I’m glad you sometimes forget about my leg. It makes me feel more normal.’

  Lady Caldworthy looked down on the smiling face, feeling a surge of love and affection for the young girl. If only she had been blessed with a daughter such as she! But now she must tread warily, for if she handled the situation badly she might lose her for good, and that thought was unbearable. Clearing her throat, she said briskly, ‘Well, now, my sorry tale is nearly over. I was packed off to an elderly aunt in Northumberland to have the baby. It was taken from me at birth and I never saw it again. I don’t even know if it was a boy or a girl. When I returned to London, my father had already arranged a marriage for me to the son of a friend. Of course everyone knew why I’d been sent away, and under normal circumstances no man of my class would have even considered marrying a girl who had let herself become pregnant by a common workman, but this particular family were in dire financial straits. My father paid them handsomely to make an honest woman of me, and the young man he chose was kind enough. In time he fell in love with me, but I could never return his love. The marriage lasted only five years, and I was happy enough, I suppose, then quite suddenly he caught a chill which turned into pneumonia, and within two weeks he was dead. I can’t pretend I was prostrate with grief, but I did feel remorse that I had never been able to return his shows of affection, for, as I’ve already said, he was a kind man and deserved better than me.’

  Ruby wanted to protest, but was firmly silenced. ‘Over the last 50 years I’ve had four husbands and numerous lovers, but none of them ever quite measured up to my Patrick. How could they? For, as each year passed, I added more and more attributes to my Irishman than he ever possessed in real life. But I did have those glorious months with him, and despite how he treated me, some part of me still loves him, or the young man he was. My time with him was short, but I lived more in those few months than I have ever lived since. Men like Patrick are rare, a breed apart. You cannot help loving them, even though you know it will end in tears, and once you have experienced that kind of love, nothing else will ever be quite the same. When Michael O’Brien walked in here tonight, I recognised him immediately, or rather, I recognised the type of man he is. It was as if Patrick had come back into my life, and then I saw the look on your face and I knew straight away what had happened. Ruby, dear’ – her hand tightened on Ruby’s cold fingers – ‘don’t make the same mistake I did, I beg you. Nothing can come of such an alliance. Even if Michael were to return your love, you must know that your father would never allow you to marry him. One more thing I must add’ – here she swallowed painfully – ‘The man’s an opportunist. He would quite willingly marry you if he thought that one day you would inherit some of your father’s money, and, of course, it would be an added bonus for him to get himself not only a rich wife but a beautiful one into the bargain. He will speak to you soon, I’m sure, but please, Ruby, don’t be taken in by his blarney, as I once was with Patrick! You can do better, much better. What you are feeling now is merely sexual attraction, and I know what I’m talking about. Don’t feel, because of your disability, that you have to take the first man who asks you. You have so much to offer, and if…’

  Ruby got clumsily to her feet, her face white with anger. ‘Why don’t you say what you really mean, ma’am? You’re implying that Michael thinks he can marry me if he wishes and in so doing feather his nest with a tidy bit of money thrown in. All this good fortune is because I’m a cripple and, as such, can’t afford to be too choosy where marriage is concerned!’

  Lady Caldworthy felt her stomach lurch painfully at the sound of the bitterness in Ruby’s voice. She had handled the situation badly. She should have said nothing, and simply given Mr Masters orders to dismiss the Irishman as soon as possible. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe, if she spoke to the man himself, offered him a sizeable amount of money, he would leave of his own accord. If he accepted, and she was certain he would, Ruby would never know that she had played any part in his sudden departure. Comforted by her decision, she relaxed into her chair, only to jump forward at Ruby’s next words.

  ‘Do you imagine I don’t know how limited my chances of marriage are? It never mattered to me until I met Michael, but now it does. If he asked me tomorrow to marry him, I’d say yes, even if I knew it was only my father’s money he was interested in. If that’s the only way I can get him, then I’ll use it to good advantage. You said yourself that those four months with Patrick were the happiest days of your life. Well, I want my four months, and I intend to get them in any way I can!’

  ‘But, child, your father would never agree to such a marriage; never! He dotes on you, and he would see through Michael as easily as my father saw through Patrick, with much the same results. Think, Ruby! Don’t suffer the humiliation I did, please.’

  At the sound of the desperate plea in the old lady’s voice, the stiffness went out of Ruby’s body and the colour returned to her face as she said wearily, ‘All this is rather beside the point, isn’t it? Michael has shown no sign of wanting to marry me. So far, he has shown friendship, nothing more. But if you are thinking of dismissing him, then know now that the day he leaves this house, I go too. If I have to follow him all over the country, I’ll do it! I’ll be his friend, I’ll be godmother to his children, I’ll be anything he wants me to be as long as I can be near him. Now, ma’am, if there’s nothing else, I will go to my room. I need to think for a while, as I’m sure you do. I’ll be back at ten o’clock to undress you and get you ready for bed.’

  Lady Caldworthy watched in dismay as Ruby left the room, and when she heard the click of her door closing, her face crumpled slowly.

  * * *

  Michael walked across the darkened garden, his handsome face suffused with anger. Savagely he kicked a large stone from his path as he made his way to the two-roomed lodge where he lived. He entered the gloomy room, and mov
ed to the table that served as a place to eat and was also where he pored over his meagre collection of books every evening. Quickly lighting the old copper lantern, he placed it on the table and sat down heavily on the only chair in the room. The clean but faded cotton curtains hung dispiritedly at the sides of the tiny cracked window, and in the hearth, the fire he had left burning brightly had gone out. Shivering slightly, for the night had turned cold, he gathered some old newspapers, which he thrust under the pile of wood in the grate and set light to them. As he sat on his haunches waiting for the fire to catch, he thought back to the interview he had just endured.

  Well, he had blown his chances there, right enough. Why had he antagonised the old lady? He’d had no intention of doing so when he’d first entered the room. He had been genuine in his request for permission to start an allotment, but had used that only so that he could work his way round to asking for the coming Saturday off, because that old bugger Mr Masters would never have agreed to his taking a day off a week early. He’d had it all planned out: to charm the old dear into granting him his request and then to waylay Ruby and ask her to come with him to the fair. He could have done it, too, if he hadn’t been so cocksure!

  Those piercing blue eyes had seen through him, right enough, and by this time tomorrow he would likely be out on the streets looking for a new job. He watched dismally as the fire began to take hold, then walked back to the table and sat down restlessly. The room wasn’t much, but he had lived in worse – oh, yes, much worse! Unable to settle, he got to his feet and began pacing the floor, then, going over to the small stove he placed the kettle of water on it. While he waited for it to boil, he opened his cupboard and took out the solitary mug and plate, upon which reposed a thick ham sandwich covered with a damp muslin cloth that Agnes had brought over earlier that evening. Thinking of the young housemaid, he felt the beginnings of a smile come to his stiff lips. If ever a woman was asking for it, she was! She’d done everything but put his hand up her skirt, but Michael preferred to do his own chasing, and so far had declined the unspoken offer. Now if it had been Ruby! But there was no chance of that happening, especially not now. Oh, God, what a fool he’d been! All his life he’d wanted to amount to something, and for years he had struggled to educate himself with the help of the books he had bought, borrowed or stolen on his many travels.

  He had been only 11 when his parents had worked themselves into early graves back in his home town of Drogheda, and had then watched helplessly as his remaining two brothers and one sister had died from starvation and neglect. He himself had been rescued by the village priest, who had taken him in and given him shelter, even though the old man’s stipend had barely covered the cost of his own meagre needs. It was this kind man who had first introduced Michael to the world of books, and the knowledge that could be gleaned from their pages. When he had died, Michael, by then 15, had stowed away on a ship bound for England, and had nearly died for his pains. Cramped into a dark stinking hold with no food or water for three days, he had eventually been found by one of the crew, who took him to the captain. He had stood before the great giant of a man, dirty, and with an overpowering stink from the rotting hold where he had been hiding.

  He had worked his passage, and when the ship had finally docked at Tilbury weeks later, he had walked proudly off it with five shillings in his pockets and a set of second-hand clothes on his back. It had taken him only two days to find a job as stable-hand in a grand house in Kilburn, and as soon as he’d saved enough money, he had left. His next job had been as coachman for a middle-aged woman whose husband had recently died. Within a month, Michael had moved from the top of the carriage and into her bed. At first he had been embarrassed to take the money she’d offered, but had quickly overcome his scruples. Tiring of her eventually, he had once again set off on the road, this time with two books stolen from the lady’s shelves tucked safely inside his canvas bag. He had had many jobs since, but never had he felt at home until he had come here.

  He was now 25, and the feeling of wanting a family of his own had been growing for some time. But it would have to be with a woman with some money of her own, for although he was well aware of his charm, he knew this wasn’t enough. He needed education if he wanted to make anything of himself, and in Ruby he had seen the chance of killing two birds with one stone. She would help to educate him, and her father was rich. Michael wasn’t stupid enough to believe that he would be welcomed with open arms by the unknown Mr Chadwick, but he was willing to bide his time. Just let him get Ruby to marry him and by the time there were two or three grandchildren running around, the old man would relent! If that failed, well, he couldn’t live forever, and from what he’d heard in the kitchen, the old man was crazy about his only daughter. Even though the bulk of his money would go to the elder son, Ruby would surely receive a handsome inheritance. Yes, he would wait. He was a patient man, and she wanted him; he could see it in her eyes.

  If only the old lady didn’t dismiss him! Cursing himself once again for his stupidity, he carried his mug of strong black tea into his bedroom. This room, like the kitchen, was small, just barely large enough to accommodate the double bed, a chest of drawers and a night table. Finishing off the sandwich and the mug of tea, he began to undress, wondering where he’d be this time tomorrow night. Just as he was about to pull his shirt over his head, he heard the faint sound of a knock on the door. He stopped what he was doing, his arms raised over his head, the shirt half-covering his face, and listened intently. There it was again, louder this time. Quickly pulling his shirt back over his chest, he picked up the lantern and walked to the door. It couldn’t be, could it? Surely Ruby hadn’t come to him at this time of night? No, the idea was preposterous, but if not Ruby, then who? Not Mr Masters, returned from his day out, come to deliver his notice? If so, the old girl hadn’t wasted much time!

  The knocking became more insistent, and a soft voice whispered urgently,

  ‘Michael, open the door before someone sees me!’

  He sprang forward to draw back the bolt. The voice was muffled, but it could be only one person. When he threw back the door and saw Agnes standing there, the disappointment made him feel sick. Then the feeling turned to anger. If she wanted it that badly, then by God he wouldn’t disappoint her! Without a word he grasped her arm and dragged her into the lodge. Pushing her in front of him he steered her into the bedroom, and then, still without a word, he shoved her roughly onto the bed, and threw himself down on her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  When a week had passed without any further word from the house, Michael began to relax. If he had been going to be dismissed, he would have heard by now. All the same, he couldn’t help wondering why he had been given a reprieve. As he bent over the herbaceous border, his strong hands busily trying to pull out the stubborn weeds that had infiltrated his pride and joy, he became aware of a presence beside him. Turning his sweating face sideways, he groaned silently at the sight of Agnes standing behind him, one hand perched on her plump hip, a saucy grin on her rosy face.

  ‘Good morning, Michael,’ she said coyly. ‘Cook wants to know if you’re coming in for your breakfast. It’s past nine and she wants to clear away the dishes. We’ve all had ours ages ago. Why haven’t you been in?’

  Turning back to his task, Michael answered brusquely, ‘I haven’t time for any breakfast today. I want to get the garden ready for the holiday weekend. Lady Caldworthy has friends coming over. She plans to hold a tea party out here, and I want to make sure the garden doesn’t disgrace her in front of her fine friends.’

  Agnes looked down on his broad back, her uneven teeth nipping at her bottom lip. She wasn’t the brightest of women, but even she knew when she was being rebuffed, and after that night they’d had as well! She’d hoped that night would have heralded the start of a firm relationship, but it seemed to have had the opposite effect, for Michael’s avoidance of her since was too obvious to be ignored. An inner wisdom told her to tread warily, if she didn’t want to sc
are him off for good. He was the best-looking man she’d ever met, and she didn’t intend to give him up without a fight. Maybe he was feeling guilty about the way he had treated her. She still had the bruises from that night, small mauve and blue blemishes on her body to remind her of the rough lovemaking she had enjoyed with him. But they didn’t worry her; in fact she was delighted that she’d had the power to incite him to such passion.