Lady Forsaken Box Set (Books 1 - 5), page 34
Why had she let him tag along? Was it not enough that she’d jeopardized herself, but now had pulled Harold into it all?
Ruby’s eyes were probably the size of saucers. They’d been caught, and now Harold would receive the brunt of a punishment meant solely for her.
“What are you doing in the Marquis of Drake’s study?” the girl prodded.
Harold cleared his voice. “My apolo—”
“Please, allow me,” Ruby cut him off before he could incriminate himself. Straightening her shoulders, she turned to the figure outlined in the doorway. “I can explain our presence.”
Harold could not wait to hear how Ruby planned to justify their presence in Drake’s house. He doubted the truthfulness of her explanation, but he looked forward to her trying. Once the situation got out of hand, he would step in—again. It was becoming a trend he much enjoyed.
The woman—merely a girl, truly—stepped into the room. The dim light from the candles lining the hall made her hair appear as red as flames. Her frame was small, yet willowy. “Do not bother. I can see with my own eyes what is happening here.”
Odd that she had an idea of what was going on when he hadn’t the faintest clue. Even more peculiar was that he did not care what Ruby’s reasons were. Though he was justifiably suspicious of her actions, he still found it difficult to distrust her outright. Something more had to be behind her behavior—and beyond that, Harold found he enjoyed her company. Despite the circumstances, when he was called to return to take over for his father, she would be a distant memory of a better time.
“I am truly sorry,” Ruby mumbled. “It is just—”
“If you are looking for a tryst, here is not the place.” The girl’s hands settled on her hips, the posture oddly familiar.
He bent and whispered to Ruby. “Let me know when you’d like your white knight to take over and rescue you from this unfortunate situation.”
“Let me remind you that we would not be in this situation if you hadn’t scared the wits out of me,” she countered. Though she was the culprit for them being in the position for him to scare her, she didn’t think now was the time to accept that burden of responsibility.
“Not a tryst?” The girl paused to look them both up and down. “Mayhaps you are planning on relieving the marquis of his valuables? Nothing more than common thieves. I must admit, I have never heard of a female burglar, but one should not be surprised by the depravity of society.”
The girl didn’t have the look of a servant, her dress cut from fine cloth and her hair tied high with a matching ribbon. Her speech was cultured and refined. Possibly a relative of Drake’s, a niece or cousin. With the man’s reputation, Harold found it hard to believe any upstanding member of society would allow their daughter to live under the Marquis of Drake’s protection.
Whoever she was, however, Harold could not stand by and allow her to speculate any further. “I assure you we are not common thieves—only people who have lost their way, I fear.”
“Lost your way? Into the private study of a marquis?” Her voice conveyed her doubt. “That is highly doubtful and suspicious, do you not think?”
Harold looked to Ruby for insight, but her eyes only held panic. “My lady…” he started, hoping to at least draw the girl’s name or some other key to her identity.
A closer look told him she could not be more than sixteen, barely out of school. What mother would be so lackadaisical about their daughter’s reputation as to allow her to stay with the marquis, fabled to have fathered half of the youth in London?
The chit could be Drake’s own offspring. He hadn’t heard that the man actually claimed one as his own.
“We only came to consult with your father on a business matter of great importance,” Harold said. “Your servant showed us here to await his arrival.”
“He is not my father,” she seethed the words. “And furthermore, he is not home.” She crossed her arms, keeping her distance. Was the girl not fearful of them at all?
“Then we should be going,” Ruby said.
She’d found her tongue, but Harold wasn’t quite ready to take his leave. The girl was not about to sound the alarm at their presence, or she already would have. “I am sure we can await his arrival.”
“Are you crazy?” Ruby asked in a whisper.
“Only as crazy as you for dragging us into this,” he replied.
She flashed a pleading look at him. “Please, let us out of here.”
“I fear it is too late for us to depart unscathed.”
“The marquis never handles business here, nor do the servants use this room,” the girl retorted. “Now, I must decide what to do with the pair of you.”
“What to do with us?” Ruby sounded breathless beside him.
The girl cocked her head in thought, her finger tapping her pinched lips. “Maybe I will call the magistrate.”
Harold had wanted a little adventure, to make a few memories before he was forced to settle down, but taken to the Newgate? He could not imagine explaining this to Brock, let alone his father.
“That will not be necessary,” Ruby pleaded. “This was all a misunderstanding. If you’ll only give me the opportunity to explain.”
Ruby had insisted that Drake was out for the evening and not expected to return until the wee hours of the morning. That had been the only reason Harold had even entertained the idea of letting her follow through with her absurd plan. It was clear that she felt the outcome of her search could affect her greatly, but he wanted to know how—even if that put him in peril. The punishment for stealing from the wealthy and titled was grave, since every man in Parliament was of wealthy and titled birth. They did not take kindly to those who sought to take what they saw as their own.
It was highly doubtful that either of them would be smiling if they were sitting in a jail cell, eating moldy bread and drinking putrid water from the River Thames.
“I believe we started on the wrong foot. Let us introduce ourselves,” Harold began his last-ditch effort to save them both.
Ruby stiffened at his side. “No—”
Harold clasped her elbow in comfort. “I do apologize for the confusion. We are here on official business.” He executed a slight, awkward bow, keeping his hold on Ruby firm. “You see, my associate is a representative of Foldger’s Foundling House, an orphanage in Hampshire. I wrote the Marquis of Drake to set up a meeting for this evening to discuss a sizable donation.”
The girl snorted—actually snorted. He’d never heard a female make that particular sound, but for some reason it fit the young woman. “While that sounds completely believable and—for any other member of the ton—a generous cause, you have obviously never made the acquaintance of the marquis. One, he would rather gather his shillings in a bag and toss them in the ocean than donate them. And secondly…” She ticked her reasons off on her fingers. “He is more likely to throw children in after his money than to see it spent on them.”
“I beg your pardon?” he stuttered, sure he had misheard her.
“I said, he would rather sink his money and orphaned children along with it than willingly give coin away.” A catlike smile overtook her face.
She enjoyed their discomfort. The little minx!
“Now, I would be remiss if I allowed the pair of you to walk out of here without paying for your deception,” she continued, her smile growing ever more devious. “So, are either of you gamblers?”
Harold shook his head, and he sensed Ruby doing the same. “I do believe if you think on it a bit, no harm has been done. I can contact the marquis at a later date that works within his busy schedule.”
“Lucky for you both, I am.” She turned from the dark room and signaled for them to follow her, without giving the impression she’d heard Harold’s words. “This way, please. We will need a more hospitable place to discuss our wager.”
They followed her, single file, down the dim corridor. Harold tried to situate himself in front of Ruby in a misguided attempt to protect her from the unknown dangers posed by the slight figure in front of them. But true to form, Ruby—head high and shoulders squared—marched as if on her way to the guillotine. He maneuvered himself to her side, determined to face whatever lay ahead unified. A bulk of the responsibility for their situation set firmly on his shoulders, he was fully aware. He was the man, after all, and should have been able to waylay her plan, if not dissuade her completely. No part of their situation was funny, yet he found himself chuckling at the thought of ever dissuading Ruby when she had her mind set on something.
His laugh stopped abruptly when Ruby shot a glare at him, followed by an almost identical glare from their unknown capture. He hadn’t the time to ponder the resemblance before they all stopped outside a room off the dark corridor, closer to the main entrance.
As they entered, Harold gazed around the foyer. With no servants in sight—and Brock keeping the marquis occupied at White’s—they very well may escape before anymore notice was given to them.
“Sit, please.” The girl swung her arm wide, ushering them into the room lit by several candles and a blazing fire, overly warm for the mild weather outside.
Ruby immediately moved to sit on a straight-backed chair, her head lowered as if she were waiting to be scolded by her schoolmarm. Harold opted for an armchair, directly across from Ruby. The chair was comfortable, which he considered fortunate. There was no telling how long the girl planned to string them along, threatening detainment by the magistrate.
The only other available seat facing them was a long, low-slung lounge chair. Not surprisingly, the girl opted to pace the length of the room, her arms clasped tightly behind her as she surveyed her prey.
Yes, Harold felt as if he were a mouse, eyed from above by a falcon waiting to swoop down and sink its talons deep.
“Where were we?” she asked. “Oh, yes! What to do with two unwanted intruders.”
The girl was toying with them, that was all. She would get a laugh out of their discomfiture and let them leave eventually.
“Would it be so awful to let us go, just as we came, no one the wiser?” Ruby said. She looked at the girl defiantly, hopefully coming to the same conclusion Harold had.
She snorted again. “But I would be the wiser. How do I know you are both not hiding the good silver under your clothes?”
“You can check us both,” Ruby offered.
“Oh, but think of the fun if the magistrate searched you both.”
“You must be jesting with us,” Harold exclaimed, his patience wearing thin. “This is absurd. We came for a meeting with Drake. He is unable to meet with us, so we will take our leave now.” Harold stood and motioned for Ruby to do the same.
“Do not think you will depart as easily as you arrived.” The girl stopped pacing and faced them. “I may be forced to spread the news about the pair of you caught in a most compromising position.”
“What compromising position?” Ruby exploded.
“I did find you alone in a dark room with this kind sir’s arms wrapped most inappropriately around your midsection, did I not?”
They both stayed silent, not wishing to fuel the girl’s fire.
“Sir.” She turned to him. “Can you please await your partner outside?”
“I would rather not—”
“Thank you, I do appreciate your immediate departure from this house. Your miss and I have much to discuss. Privately, if you please.”
The little hellion. He was being dismissed in no uncertain terms, and at the moment there was nothing he could do about it. The risk was too great that she’d sound the alarm and have them both hauled from the house, in shackles, for all to see.
He bowed to Ruby reluctantly. “I will be upon the front steps awaiting your departure.”
“I would feel better if he stay—”
“Unfortunately, that is not up to you,” the girl said. “If you pride yourself on your ability to wander about without restraints—namely bindings about your wrists and ankles—then you will leave us.”
He looked to Ruby. If she asked him to stay, he would. Damn the consequences.
“Good evening, your lordship,” a servant’s voice drifted into the room.
“Very good, the marquis is returned. Shall I call him to join us?” the girl asked.
“That will not be necessary.” Harold gave Ruby a reassuring smile. With Drake returned they would not be able to stop her from announcing their presence, but Harold may be able to distract him long enough for Ruby to remove herself from the house. “I will step out and have a word with him myself.”
She shook her head. “Harold?”
He leaned close and whispered, “All will be fine, trust me.”
The girl clapped, as if enjoying their discomfort. “Well, that is settled. You may go, Harold,” she said, and he moved toward the door as she continued to address Ruby. “Now that he is gone we can speak freely.”
“What could you possibly have to speak with me about?” Ruby sounded so uncertain that Harold almost turned around.
“But one thing. Namely…” she paused dramatically, “…how I can be made to forget the scene I stumbled upon…”
The girl’s words trailed off when he closed the study door behind him.
Ruby was safer in the room with their young captor than she would be coming face to face with Drake.
Pasting a smile upon his face, Harold took the few steps toward Drake and bowed in greeting. “Your lordship.” Harold mimicked the servant’s greeting.
“Mr. Jakeston?” Drake blustered. “What are you doing here—at this time of night?”
“I came round as soon as I completed my business,” Harold said. “It was very inconvenient that I had to depart in such a rush earlier and I wanted to inquire when you will again be at White’s. I owe you another game of cards to make up for my rudeness.”
As he spoke, Harold noticed the marquis looking over his shoulder to the closed salon door expectantly.
“Ah, very well. It is the least you can do after calling off this evening.”
Thankfully, the door remained closed behind him and no female voices drifted out. “As you may know, I reside at Haversham House with Lord Haversham for the time being.”
“Yes, Haversham mentioned that this evening. Along with the announcement that Lady Haversham is expecting their first child,” Drake said.
“That is very true. Miss Ruby St. Augustin has accompanied her to town to keep a close eye on her.” He waited for any sign of recognition at the name.
Harold was rewarded when Drake asked, “I know that name. Is that Sir St. Augustin’s eldest daughter?”
“Actually, his only child,” Harold said. “Were you acquainted with him?”
“No, never met the man, but I had occasion to run into Mrs. St. Augustin over the years.” At the shift in conversation, Drake appeared measurably uneasy. “Well, that is a long ago and better left forgotten time. It is late and I find these old bones tire fast these days. If you don’t mind, my butler will show you out.” His tone quivered ever so slightly with agitation as he gestured to the door and his butler.
“Good evening, your lordship.”
“This way, Mr. Jakeston,” Drake’s butler attempted to usher him out.
Only when Drake reached the first landing on his way up the stairs did Harold concede and turn to the front door.
The girl hadn’t sounded the alarm on them, and she surely wouldn’t harm Ruby with Drake home and servants about the house again.
As he paced outside the townhouse, Harold pondered Drake’s revelation. He’d learned two very important things this night: Firstly, Drake was acquainted with Ruby’s mother, and secondly, he wanted to keep the first hidden. Unfortunately, neither meant anything to him, and he was no closer to discovering Ruby’s ulterior reason for her activities, but the connection was clear. Drake was either acquainted with Ruby, or knew of her existence.
Chapter 12
Ruby walked as quickly as her gown allowed out the front door of Drake’s townhouse and right past Harold. She fairly jumped from the entry porch, down the three steps, and to the sidewalk below. While she didn’t chance a look behind her—afraid the girl would change her mind about sounding the alarm—she knew Harold was fast on her heels.
And though she was loathe to admit it, she was grateful knowing he was there waiting for her.
“Stop,” he called behind her. “What did you just agree to?”
She halted mid-step, confident they’d moved far enough down the walk, and confronted him. “That is naught of your concern, but I do believe we have evaded the magistrate for the time being.”
Harold threw his arms wide in frustration. “Do you seriously believe she would have called the authorities once the marquis arrived home?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not willing to wager my reputation on it—or yours,” she said. And that was true. The only luck she’d had recently was bad luck—she was not sure she could suffer through any more.
“I’ll worry about my own reputation,” Harold countered. “Just as you are determined to tear yours to shreds.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“I see no other reason for your reckless behavior.” She was sure Harold didn’t want to have this confrontation now, on an influential street for all of London to witness. And yet, he persisted. “And, I was—still am—willing to help you in your quest, despite the repercussions to myself, but I need answers. I need you to tell me what all this is about… That I am not on some foolhardy errand with no chance at reward.”
“Foolhardly? Reward?” she stuttered. “If you think by forcing me to accept your help you will gain some kind of reward—monetary or otherwise—you are mistaken.”
“That is not what I meant, and you know it! I want nothing more than to see the girl I grew up with—and the woman I met last season—return. This secretive, paranoid, and witless creature is not you.”
Her chin lifted and she squared her shoulders, effectively closing herself off from him. She was so angry, she could barely speak. The nerve of the man! “I refuse to continue this conversation in public like this,” she hissed. “You may accompany me, or you may stay behind. Witless creature that I am, it matters naught to me which you choose.”
