by Merry Farmer
“Sorry,” she laughed, trying to keep Faith from flailing her way into a temper. “She doesn’t like being dragged around on errands.”
“Isn’t Annie supposed to be watching her?” Gil asked, the emotion in his eyes dulling into concern.
Ruby arched a brow. “She suddenly had other work.”
Gil took the information with a look of suspicion that mirrored her own thoughts on the subject. “It’ll get better,” he said.
Instead of rushing to contradict him, Ruby attempted a smile. “It will.”
It was the first time she’d said anything that came close to optimistic, but after her long chat with Clara the day before, that spark of optimism had begun to take hold and grow inside of her. It pulsed brighter when Gil smiled at her. Flutters of hope filled her belly, and she leaned closer to him.
“Gil, I’m sorry if I—”
“No, I’m sorry,” he cut her off before she could apologize. “For so many things.”
Ruby blinked in surprise, her heart racing. She studied his face, the warmth in his eyes. The censure and disappointment that had been there for so many months was gone. The Gil standing in front of her now was more like the Gil of last summer.
“Listen,” he said, shifting. “We need to find time to talk. Mr. Croydon has me busy with this new valet business, but as soon as I—”
“Well, well. It looks like the harlot has found herself a customer,” Mary said as she crossed through the hall, carrying a steaming bucket of water.
Martha was right behind her with another bucket of water and one filled with brushes. “And under our own roof.”
“Mrs. Musgrave will have your hide,” Mary muttered as she passed Ruby.
Martha went so far as to spit on her as she passed.
“Oy!” Gil shouted, loud enough to set Faith crying. “Is that any way to treat people?”
“It’s a way to treat the likes of her,” Martha snapped, eyes wide with offense as Gil rounded on her.
“Ruby deserves just as much respect as you do,” Gil went on.
The butterflies in Ruby’s stomach blossomed, in spite of Faith’s crying and Mary’s shout of, “How dare you compare that whore to my sister and me?”
“I dare because I’ve known all of you long enough to know a wolf in sheep’s clothing from a good woman forced to do bad things.”
Hope beyond anything Ruby had dared to cling to rushed through her entire body, but there was so much going on she could barely grasp onto it.
“You’re only saying that because you’ve probably got her bent over a chaise while you roger her silly on a daily basis,” Martha hurled at Gil with a smirk.
“I would never insult Ruby that way,” Gil started to defend her.
The entire confrontation was cut abruptly short as Mr. Noakes stormed into the narrow hall, bellowing, “What is the meaning of this disturbance?”
“Sorry, sir, sorry.” Mary and Martha attempted curtsies, water sloshing out of their buckets. They rushed out into the main part of the house, leaving Gil and Ruby to face Mr. Noakes’s wrath.
“You,” Mr. Noakes began, glaring at Ruby.
“Ruby didn’t start it, sir,” Gil insisted. “She was provoked.”
Mr. Noakes turned to him, his bushy brows shooting up to his hairline. “You, of all people, should know better than to get involved in the petty arguments of the lower staff, sir. Particularly a piece such as this.” He jerked his head toward Ruby.
Gil’s face splotched so red that, combined with his ginger hair, he looked as though he might ignite. “Ruby is not a piece, sir,” he said, addressing the butler more as his equal, or even his inferior. “She has been maligned unjustly and forced into an untenable position.”
“Her position is most certainly untenable by my accounts,” Mr. Noakes said. “It would already have been terminated if it were up to me.”
Gil opened his mouth to argue, but Ruby stopped him with a hand on his arm. She turned to Mr. Noakes. “I’m terribly sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”
“It most certainly will not,” Mr. Noakes growled.
Ruby glanced warily to Gil, who still looked as though he had enough vinegar in him to take on the world, then curtsied to Mr. Noakes and rushed on, down out of the hall, down the stairs, and into the downstairs hall.
Faith was still fussing, which made it next to impossible to escape into a quiet corner without being noticed. She was hungry as well as upset by the confrontation, but when Ruby slipped into the servant’s hall, sat on a stool in the corner, and started adjusting her blouse to nurse, she drew more attention than she intended to.
“Don’t think you’re going to tempt me down a wicked path by doing that here,” Ben, the head footman, said, rising from the other end of the table so fast that he nearly knocked over the mug of coffee he’d been enjoying.
“I wasn’t—” Ruby let out a breath of frustration as Ben charged out of the room, motioning for Tad, the newest footman, to leave with him before she could explain.
Worse still, Robby, the other footman, rose from where he’d been sitting across from Ben and strode toward her, a hungry smirk twisting his lips. “Don’t mind him, love,” he said leaning his backside against the end of the table and facing her. “Go on.” He nodded to her chest.
“I’m feeding my daughter.” Ruby stared back at him with a look of defiance.
“Yeah, I just bet you are,” he said with a salacious purr in his voice. “Go on and show me those titties.” He rubbed a hand across the front of his livery trousers.
Ruby hissed out an impatient breath and stood. With a final glare for Robby and a disgusted sneer, she marched out of the room.
Faith continued to cry, which took some of the fire out of her exit.
“It’s all right. It’s all right, love. We’ll find a quiet spot to gather our thoughts.”
But it seemed as though everywhere Ruby went in the house, someone was there to glare at her, turn up their nose, chase her away, or, like Robby, watch her with unwelcome interest. In the end, the only thing she could think of to get a moment’s peace was to don her coat and winter things and to leave the house.
She passed Edward Croydon’s carriage rolling up the drive as she fled the house. All the more reason to find someplace quiet. She debated visiting Clara at the vicarage, but what she craved more than anything was silence, a space to breathe without being disturbed.
The perfect spot popped to her mind as she started down to the river. Ada had told her about the cottage where James’s birth mother had lived, on the corner of Winterberry Park’s grounds, months ago. It was maintained every so often, but kept locked up and empty most of the time. But there was a key hidden under a rock by the front door. Few people knew about it, which made it the perfect place for Ruby to have a moment’s peace. She hoped that Mr. Croydon would understand, if she happened to be caught, but seeing as all she needed was a few moments of her own, she didn’t think being caught was likely.
“Come on, sweetheart,” she told Faith, hugging her close as she made her way to the cottage. “No one will begrudge us one hour alone, will they?”
Gil strode through the chilly streets of Lanhill, the parcel of valet applications he’d picked up from the post office after the confrontation in the hall under his arm. As cold as the wind that whipped around him was, a fire warmed him from the inside. Part indignation at the way Ruby was being treated and part newfound determination to support her instead of adding to her problems, it kept him heated under his thick winter coat, and gave him enough energy to run to London and back if he had to.
Something had to be done, that much was clear to him now. Even though the last vestiges of blame for James’s kidnapping that he’d laid at her doorstep had all but faded, he was beginning to see that it would be impossible for Ruby to stay on at Winterberry Park. It didn’t matter how kind the Croydons were or whether they’d forgiven her, as long as the rest of the staff treated her the way Mary and Martha Mull had, Ruby w
ould be miserable until she found another situation.
Exactly what kind of situation that could be was what kept his heart hammering against his ribs, even when he was standing still. The packet of applications under his arm meant more than a new employee for Alex. It meant that Gil wouldn’t be needed wherever Alex was staying. It might mean that he could stay in London year-round, in a flat of his own rather than within calling distance of his employer. And if he had a flat of his own, marrying Ruby and setting up house with her could be a real possibility.
His thoughts spun faster and faster as he walked along the river path toward Winterberry Park. He would have kept walking without pause if the scent of smoke just outside Violetta’s old cottage hadn’t brought him up short. He stopped, frowning in confusion, and glanced toward the cottage’s chimney. A thin line of smoke curled up to the sky. It was a cloudy enough day for him to notice light in the main room’s windows.
Still frowning, Gil switched directions and went to investigate. When he reached the cottage’s front door, he stepped to the side, cupping his hands over the window and peering through the glass.
“Ruby,” he murmured, his brow shooting up, when he spotted her sitting on a chair near the fire. She rocked a sleeping Faith in her arms.
Ruby glanced up and caught sight of him looking at her through the window just as he backed away, so when he knocked on the cottage door and turned the handle, stepping into the cozy cottage, she was already halfway to her feet.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Gil said, closing the door behind him. He took a few tentative steps deeper into the cottage.
“I—” Ruby glanced to the cheery fire blazing away in the fireplace, then let out a breath and turned back to him. “I just needed to be alone for a moment,” she confessed.
“Oh. I’m sorry, I can leave.” Gil turned back to the door.
“No, please stay,” she said, taking a step closer to him. “I wouldn’t mind your company.”
Gil pivoted toward her again. “Are you sure? If you want to be alone….”
“You’re not the reason I needed a rest,” she said with a sigh.
“Did something else happen?” A rocky sense of dread filled Gil’s gut as she moved to the sofa and settled Faith against the pillows to nap. She covered the girl with the dusty blanket from the back of the sofa, then faced him.
Her shoulders dropped as though she carried the weight of the world on them. “You were there for the incident with Mary and Martha,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “But you didn’t see Ben and Tad run from me as though I carried the plague, or Robby acting as though I were still for hire.” Her voice dropped to barely a whisper.
Gil clenched his jaw, setting the pile of valet applications on the table beside the door and marching closer to her. “I’ll wring his scrawny neck. He has no business speaking to you or anyone like that.”
“It’s nothing I haven’t heard before,” Ruby said, lowering her head and brushing her hands across her apron. “At least I won’t have to put up with it much longer.” She glanced up at him with a weak smile.
“Ruby,” Gil stepped closer to her, reaching out to rest his hands on her arms. “Are you quite certain you want to go through the trouble of starting over in a new position somewhere else?”
She blinked at him, then shrugged. “I don’t see as how I have much choice. And after all the trouble the Croydons have gone through, I—”
“Marry me.” The question—if it could even be called a question—popped out of him before he could find the right words.
“What?” Ruby’s eyes went round, and her jaw slackened.
Gil winced at his clumsiness, but inched closer to her. “I’m asking you to marry me,” he said, then rushed on with, “I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, since this summer. And now seems like the ideal time. If Mr. Croydon allows it, I can stay in London all the time instead of constantly being at his beck and call. And you can stay with me. We could have a home of our own.”
“Oh.” Ruby blinked rapidly. He’d taken her completely by surprise, but he didn’t want to back down. “Oh,” she repeated, stepping away from him. She pressed a hand to her heart, her cheeks going pink, and paced along the length of the sofa, then back. “But you’re angry with me,” she said when she reached him again. “You blame me for Miss Goode.”
“I did blame you for Miss Goode.” He emphasized the past tense. “But believe me, I’ve had a change of heart.”
“Why?” Ruby studied him as if she truly didn’t understand.
Gil let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “After you left yesterday, I spoke to Clara. Or rather, Clara had a few words with me.”
Ruby’s mouth twitched into a grin. “You mean, she had a few words for you?”
Her sign of openness had him smiling as well. “And those words were delivered in a particular tone of voice,” he added, raising an eyebrow.
Ruby’s smile grew. With it, her whole body relaxed. “Clara is a wise and wonderful woman.”
“She is,” Gil agreed. He crossed to Ruby, resting his hands on her arms again so that she wouldn’t get away. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t stop to realize how alone you felt. It never occurred to me that you would have seen Miss Goode as a much-needed friend and not a threat. It didn’t occur to me because my life has been so different. I’ve always had someone who I could rely on for help.”
“And I haven’t,” Ruby said, lowering her head.
Gil brushed his fingers along her chin, tilting it up so that she looked at him. “You do now,” he said. He let out a breath and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “I shouldn’t have let you get into that situation. I should have been there for you much earlier.”
“You were there for me,” she insisted, taking his hand from her chin and squeezing it. “You gave me hope when no one else did.”
“And I let you down when I shouldn’t have,” he quickly added. He inched closer to her. “I never should have left you that night in your flat. I should have taken you home with me then and there, begged Mr. Croydon to hire you immediately, instead of throwing money at you and leaving.”
“That money kept me alive,” she said softly. “And there’s no guarantee Mr. Croydon would have hired me at all without the story of Mr. Turpin coming out.”
“But I should have taken responsibility sooner,” he insisted, feeling the truth of those words like a rock in his gut. “I could have saved you from so much pain if I’d just had the courage to act.”
She shook her head. “You didn’t know that first night how everything would turn out.”
“No,” he admitted. “But I knew from the moment I saw you that I loved you.”
She froze, her mouth dropping open. Everything within him stopped as well. He hadn’t realized the truth until he heard it.
“I love you, Ruby,” he said, just to be certain. “I’ve loved you through everything. I think that’s why I was so angry after everything that happened. I loved you so much that I mistook rage at myself for failing to protect you as anger toward you. I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you,” she said, love brimming in her eyes. “I will always forgive you.”
“No.” He shook his head. “You shouldn’t forgive me for not being there for you when I should have been.”
“But I do,” she insisted. “Because I love you, too.”
Gil caught his breath. It was more than he could have hoped for. He wanted to shout his love from the rooftops, to drop to his knees to beg forgiveness for all his shortcomings, but his throat constricted to the point where speech was impossible. So he did the only thing he could. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her and slanting his mouth over hers in a kiss.
Chapter 7
It was like a dream. Everything Ruby had ever wanted was there in her arms. The world seemed to hush around them as Gil kissed her. She’d craved his kiss for so long tha
t, now that the moment had come, she wanted to go slow and savor him. His lips were soft, but she could feel the power of his desire underlying his tenderness.
The kiss itself wasn’t enough. She worked loose the buttons of his coat, sliding her hands against the heat of his chest, impatient with the layers of clothing that still kept him from her. She leaned into him, sliding her tongue along his lips to urge them apart. Every memory of abuse she’d struggled to forget melted away as his arms closed around her. This was what loving was meant to be—willing, yearning, mutual. She wanted Gil in a way she thought she’d been ruined for forever. Knowing that filled her with excitement.
“I love you, Ruby,” Gil repeated, shrugging out of his coat and tossing it over the opposite side of the sofa from where Faith was sleeping. “You mean the world to me.”
“Then show me,” she said, swaying easily into his arms when he reached for her once more.
He kissed her again, more demanding, more passionate. His lips parted hers, and he explored her with his tongue, with his whole heart. He tugged her blouse, already loose from nursing Faith, out of her skirt, and spread his hands along her sides. The intimacy of his touch left her breathless and eager for more.
With shaking fingers, she reached for the buttons of his suit jacket and then his waistcoat. She’d undressed men far more times than she wanted to remember, but with Gil, it was new. He broke their kiss and watched her fingers as she deftly parted the clothes she’d unbuttoned, getting closer and closer to what they were both longing for.
When at last she finished with the buttons and tugged his shirt out of the waist of his trousers, he stopped her hands. She glanced up to him in question, but instead of a frown or look of disapproval, there was nothing but desire in his eyes. He glanced to Faith sleeping on the sofa, then took Ruby’s hand and led her to the bedroom.