Lady Forsaken Box Set (Books 1 - 5), page 42
“Maybe I have changed.”
“Highly doubtful. After all these years of Rodney trying to anger you, now is the time you decided to fight back and put him in his place?”
“That’s exactly it.”
Brock shook his head. “Sorry, my friend. That just does not ring true.”
“Well, it is the truth.”
“Fine, you can keep your secrets, but know that I am here for you—and Vi is, too. She loves you like a brother. And furthermore, if I even think you are in any type of trouble, I will step in and you will have no other option but to tell me what is going on.”
“What? You think you are my father or something?” Harold asked, jokingly.
Brock sobered and turned a serious look on Harold. “Do not compare my love for you to that man’s manipulative and vindictive actions—ever.” His friend leaned over and tapped Harold’s tumbler with his own and then drained the alcohol.
“To best friends and thankless family,” Harold saluted and emptied his own glass.
“Another?” Brock asked.
“Most definitely,” Harold answered—because getting drunk was far preferable to talking about things he was in no way prepared to discuss, even with his best friend.
Chapter 24
“Lady Ellie, please.” Ruby handed her new calling card, compliments of Vi, to the doorman. “She is expecting me.” She plastered a smile on her face, fearing it didn’t reach her eyes when her still swollen cheek ached, though she knew the cream was applied heavily enough to cover the bruise.
Someone once told her that a person could fool themselves into feeling something they did not. So, today, with a smile on her face, a lovely walking dress and her newly arrived calling cards in hand, Ruby had left the Haversham townhouse to take Ellington on their second outing. While she dreaded the hours to follow, she would make the best of the situation knowing she only had one outing left in their agreement.
Then, she and Harold would have naught to worry about. The threat of gossip spreading amongst the ton would be gone and they could go on as they always had, without the scrutinizing eye of society beating down on them.
It took her a moment to realize the doorman had left her standing on the front steps when he went in search of Ellie. She’d been in the house twice now, once in the dead of night and the other to collect Ellie for their first outing.
Stepping into the foyer, Ruby closed the door behind her and stared. The grandeur of society homes still left her breathless with awe. It was exorbitant how much it took to maintain a property such as this, something Ruby viewed as the height of wastefulness.
The ceiling, complete with grand chandelier, towered three stories above her head. Her neck hurt after only a few seconds of staring at the exquisite crown molding, painted a delicate cream. She traced the walls down to the immaculately polished granite that stretched in every direction and down each hall. The servants it took to keep this house ready to entertain at a moment’s notice also must cost the marquis a small fortune: butler, doorman, maids, cook, valets, and a livery of the finest handlers in all of London.
And Ellie had been raised with all of this. At least, that was what Ruby assumed. It explained a lot about her selfishness and entitled attitude. Ellie was used to getting what she wanted, even if what she wanted was in direct opposition to what was best for her. It was clear she’d had little guidance thus far in her life. She appeared well-educated, yet unruly to the extreme.
The girl had yet to share a morsel of information about herself. She was only vocal on one thing: the marquis was not her father—and her mother was dead, according to Marce. Who did she belong to and how had she ended up with him? Maybe she was the daughter of a family friend or another relative. The more time Ruby thought about Ellie, the more unanswered questions she had. She spoke like a lady, but picked pockets like a street urchin; not to mention her association with Marce and Craven House. There were so many details that didn’t make sense about the girl.
Which wasn’t so different from everything else in Ruby’s life at the moment. The questions surrounding her father, her mother, their deception, and her true identity continued to grow. Part of her had actually enjoyed the time she’d spent with Ellie—the pickpocketing not withstanding—because she hadn’t thought about her problems for that brief afternoon. Ruby hadn’t eyed every man on the street wondering if he was the one. She hadn’t been on the lookout for familiar street names, knowing a potential father lived close. It had been one of her most carefree moments since she’d arrived in town.
While musing about her current situation, she’d walked further into the marquis’ home, admiring family portraits that lined a long hall. The regality of each painting stunned her. The artist had an uncanny ability to capture the aloof and elite aura given off by members of the highest circles of society. An exclusive group of people that Ruby would never be a part of—and never wished to. There were many social climbers orbiting around the ton, always looking to be associated with a lord or lady of high status or seeking a match far above their own station.
A door slammed, as if hitting a wall when thrown open, somewhere in the house. Angry, muffled voices filled the once-quiet house.
Ruby moved back toward the foyer to better hear the commotion and—if she was being honest—closer to an escape if the necessity arose.
“…you insufferable, horrid…”
The words drifted down the main stairs to the foyer, the rest of the statement beyond comprehension.
“I may be insufferable, but at least I am not a spoiled, entitled, selfish child,” a male voice boomed. “I should have left you upon my stoop to perish in the cold.”
Ellie’s high voice followed. “I wish you would have. It would have put us both out of our misery!”
“My misery started long before you, little girl, and would not have ended with your death.”
Ruby gasped at the harsh, cruel words being thrown about. The male voice could only belong to Drake.
“The only thing that I will enjoy more than watching you live in misery every day is watching you die…without benefit of a male heir.” Ellie’s unpleasant laughed filled the foyer and a chill ran down Ruby’s spine. “You will die alone, just as you were when I came to you.”
“Do not forget, with my death will also come the end of your gilded lifestyle.” It was Drake’s turn to chuckle. “Gone will be the pretty dresses, the maids, the pin money, and dare I say, everything you’ve taken from me without so much as a thank you. It is likely you will starve upon the street.”
The words were so clear now, as if the two argued only feet from her.
“I have wanted to leave, begged you to let me go, for years.”
“Oh, but I would never allow you that.”
“No, instead you sought to keep me locked up here—your personal whipping post. Why?” The question held all the hurt and pain of a life lived on another’s terms.
“I owe you nothing. Nor do I justify my actions to anyone.”
The chandelier shuddered above her and Ruby stepped closer to the door to avoid injury if it fell, even though she felt herself compelled toward the stairs—to put an end to the verbal abuse on the floor above her. No person deserved the spiteful comments hurled at them, no matter if they were a full grown man or a child.
Loud footsteps echoed.
“Where are you going? I did not dismiss you!”
“I have plans and they do not include standing by while you insult me.” Gone was the pain in Ellie’s words, her confidence returned.
“I am not done speaking with you.”
“Well, I am sorry. Feel free to shout at the empty room. Or maybe I can send in a servant to stand in my place.” Her cocky demeanor restored, Ruby wanted to cheer Ellie on for standing up for herself, for flaunting the rules of the ton. “Either would give you the same result.”
“Are you running off to spend more time with that other bastard?” he asked.
“Don’t you speak of her in that manner.” Ellington must have paused in the hall, throwing the words back at Drake.
Ruby wondered who Ellie’s other friend was. She could only hope the ‘other bastard’ was a good, solid influence on the girl, yet dread had already started to settle upon her.
“I will talk of her in any manner I deem fit. She is nothing, born of a harlot,” his words had also lost a bit of force. “Just as you.”
“You do not know her. She is a good person.”
“As you are a good person?” he questioned. “You think I do not know of your less-than-model activities when you are not here? Does she also seek the thrill of picking pockets for extra coin? Have you taken her to meet that Davenport woman?”
“Stop!”
“Maybe you both will seek employment as trollops. I dare say gentlemen will enjoy your fiery spirit and red hair. Although, she is a bit old for most men’s liking. The apple never falls far from the tree. Why do you not bring her up to meet me?”
A bit old? A bastard? The comments bounced through her head, giving her an instant migraine.
“I will never bring her to you.” Ellie’s voice once again rose. “You do not deserve her and I will not let you hurt her as you have me.”
“Ah! So you have not been honest with her? I expected nothing less from you.”
“I have told her enough.”
“What will she think when she finds out the truth about you? All the sordid details of your past—your less than noble lineage? Do you think she will want anything to do with you then? The bastard child of a harlot is worthless and disposable.”
“Just as you disposed of my mother when you learned she carried your child?”
The similarities in the story unfolding on the floor above and her own were undeniable—and utterly terrifying.
She’d possibly found her father—and a sister in the process.
Ruby wanted to run up the stairs to stop the abuse, but at the same time found herself rooted to the spot, fearing that if she intruded on them, she wouldn’t get the answers she sought. No matter the terribleness of the truth, she wanted to hear it all. She needed to hear every word.
And then she would need time to process everything.
She hadn’t dreamed finding her father would include more heartache than she’d been through thus far. No, she’d been naive, her thoughts circling around a father, arms open wide, embracing her, showering her with the love she’d so missed since Sir St. Augustin passed.
Instead, she was faced with a possibility worse than any she could have imagined: A rake who used and discarded women like it was sport for a father. And a rebellious, untamable blackmailer for a sister.
Ruby had a soft spot for Ellington, despite her ugly words and sticky fingers. Her behavior made so much more sense now, hearing what Ellie probably dealt with on a daily basis since she’d come to live with the marquis. Could she blame the girl for doing what she had to in order to survive?
The angry voices had stalled above, possibly seeking more words to hurl—worse words. Something to wound the other as much as they themselves were hurting. What more could the pair dredge up?
“I wish I would have disposed of the pair of you in a more permanent way!”
And with that, the insults moved to a new level—and she knew she had to put an end to it. There was nothing more anyone would gain from their continued assault on each other.
A door slammed above and muffled shouts erupted.
Ruby took the stairs as fast as her dress would allow and turned down the first hallway, colliding with Ellington.
They bounced off each other, both keeping their balance—and stared at each other.
Ellington’s face was puffy and red, her eyes glossy with unshed tears.
“Ell—”
Ellington straightened her shoulders, blinking rapidly to rid her eyes of unshed tears. “You are early,” she said through tight lips. “Can you never do anything correctly?”
Ruby wanted to take the girl into her arms, give her the affection she so clearly lacked…and needed. “I was waiting downstairs, but I heard yelling.” She didn’t want Ellie to think she’d been eavesdropping, but also needed her to know she’d heard every cruel, hurtful word.
“I do not know of what you speak.” She made to push past Ruby. “And it would behoove you to stop snooping around the homes of others; it is highly rude and suspect.”
Could the girl really compartmentalize everything that had just happened and walk out the front door as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred? “I only came upstairs to help you—”
“You think I need help? Especially your help,” Ellie cut her off. “No one can help me. And if you are smart, you’ll depart before you fall too far to be saved, as well.”
The depth of those words ran deeper than any ocean.
Ruby didn’t know what she could do to help Ellington, besides begging Lord Haversham to allow her to move into Haversham townhouse. She was sure with Vi’s support he would agree, but that would mean telling her best friend about everything—all the ways she’d misled her. It would also cause discord for Brock if Drake tried to fight Ellington’s removal from his household.
A thought struck her, as well. Alex would likely lose his position in the stables, seeing as he’d gained his position through Vi. So many people would be affected, but the alternative—leaving her sister to continued abuse—was not an option.
“Was what he spoke of true?” Ruby asked. “Are we sisters?”
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it does.” How could she think it didn’t? It had been Ruby’s entire goal in coming to London, the reason she’d deceived so many of her friends and had been avoiding her mother. She’d leveraged everything she held dear in hopes of finding her true father—a place to belong, someone to accept her, and then perhaps she could accept herself, feel at home in her own skin.
“You cannot see the resemblance?”
Ruby’s hair was the darkest ebony while Ellington’s was clearly of the brightest red, but their eyes were the exact same shade of green, though the girl’s eyes were hooded and weighed down by a rough life in direct opposition to the front she presented. They both stood tall for women, their bodies slender. While Ellington’s skin was covered in freckles, Ruby’s was clear perfection, but their skin tones were both fair, easily burned by too much sun.
“You think you are better than me?”
“No—”
“Because you were raised by a baron while I’ve remained with only a first name—and a boy’s name at that—for my whole life?” Ellie accused. “I am, as he says, worthless and disposable.”
The words sounded even more detestable coming from Ellie’s mouth. “You truly believe that?”
“They are the words I have heard every day of my life, how could I not hold stock in them?” Ruby could tell the words had found purchase in the girl’s subconscious.
“The words of a bitter, lonely man mean naught.” She stared into Ellington’s eyes, hoping to convey the truth—that her words could somehow uproot all the negative.
Ruby sighed. “Just answer my question. Is he our father? Are we sisters?” Why she needed the confirmation she knew was true to her very core, Ruby didn’t know. Looking at the girl in front of her, something deep within her recognized Ellie as her sister. Her soul acknowledged and accepted her as her own—her blood.
“Do not delude yourself. We may be related, but we will never be sisters, just as he will never be my father. I would rather live my life deprived of a surname than be affiliated with that evil, vile man upstairs. He may have me caged now, but he will not live forever.”
Her sister—a relationship she’d never expected to have with another human being—had obviously been planning her escape for longer than Ruby could fathom. “If you are my sister, there will be nothing that can stand in my way of claiming you as mine. My blood.” She felt the words so fully that tears sprang to her own eyes.
“I have no want to be claimed by you. In fact, I want nothing more than for you to be out of my house, and my life.”
What she said could not be true. Ruby understood if their father wanted nothing to do with her—he’d made that clear when he’d sent her mother away. But for Ellington, a girl with nothing to call her own, one would expect her to cling to anyone who wanted her. “You can’t mean that.”
“Oh, but I do.” Ellington chuckled. The sound mimicked her father’s. “You see, I may appear the novelty now, a fun plaything for a bit, but eventually you will return to your real life. Perhaps a home in the country, or to a gentleman you fancy. And I will be forgotten, as my mother forgot me. As my father has wished to hide my existence every day.”
Ruby should be the one reeling, lost and overwhelmed by all she’d learned in the past hour, but it was Ellie who needed the time to adjust. Ruby was out of her element, her experience with the wounded limited to her work with Vi at Foldger’s Foundling House. While those children were wounded physically, Ellie’s scars did not show. Her wounds were emotional. So easy to hide and for others to overlook.
How had she not seen the pain in the girl’s eyes all this time? It was so apparent now. “Pack your things. You are coming with me to Haversham townhouse.” She spoke impulsively. “We will figure something out. You cannot remain here.”
“I am not going with you anywhere.” Ellie’s voice held a hard edge. “Besides, do you think he will let me go?”
“He clearly does not enjoy you staying in his home.”
“I have tried for most of my life to leave, to get away. Unfortunately for me—yet auspiciously for him—one does not see the advantage in losing one’s whipping post. While our father, as you call him, cannot stand the sight of me, neither will he let me go.” Ellie paused, her eyes pleading with Ruby to find her a way out—a means for escape, but the girl’s next words drilled home that even if a way out presented itself, her sister would likely not take it. “Do not delude yourself into thinking you are the first to ponder a grand scheme to fix me—deliver me from the clutches of the ‘evil overlord.’ I do not need your assistance, nor do I want it. You can take your leave and consider your debt to me paid in full.”
