Authors: Jillian Hart
“Duty and necessity go hand in hand in my book.” He pulled away to usher her onto the road, the gravel rattling beneath his boots.
“Which makes you a rarity in mine,” she assured him, walking beside him. “I know far too many aristocrats who are only too happy to shirk their duty, if it profits them.”
Whit shook his head. “You have obviously met people I don't know.”
Before she could answer, he heard the sound of a carriage coming up the hill toward them. The horses broke from the trees and thundered ahead. Ruby raised her head and darted forward.
Whit caught her arm and drew her to the side of the road. “Easy now. They'll be here in a moment.”
Sure enough, the coachman reined in the horses right in front of them.
Ruby's father threw open the door. “There you are!” he declared, face alight with relief. “Half the servants are in the hills searching for you. The other half headed for the river in case you washed up.”
Beside him, Ruby shuddered at the image.
“They shouldn't have risked their lives,” Whit said, offering Ruby a hand to help her climb in. As heavy as her skirts must have been, she didn't object to his assistance this time. “I knew the way back.”
“So it would seem,” her father said with a smile as Ruby settled herself next to him. Whit took the facing seat. Another lady might have sat primly, hands folded. Ruby collapsed against the cushions and closed her eyes as if offering up a prayer of thanks.
Seeing that they were both settled, her father thumped on the roof, and the carriage set off again.
“I can tell you that you gave me a few bad moments,” he said to Whit. “Ruby's my only child, you know, the only family I have left. Not sure how I'd get on without her.”
Even in the dim light of the carriage, Whit could see the moisture in the man's eyes.
Ruby's eyes popped open. “Oh, Da!” she cried, reaching out to hug him fiercely. Whit could see her shoulders shaking. Everything in him demanded that he take her into his arms, hold her close, keep her safe until the tremors passed. Instead, he held himself still while her father patted her back and murmured assurances.
Why had he reacted that way? He'd been willing to accept that their brush with death and the glory of the cascade had combined to make him lose his head and kiss her. In the moment, though, he'd felt the stirring of something inside, something that went beyond the pleasure of kissing a beautiful woman, something that defied description. Now it seemed to rise up inside him, requesting a name, acknowledgment.
It couldn't be love. It was too soon. They were too different. She had no interest in marrying.
He had a feeling when a man needed that many excuses to avoid pursuing a goal, something was very wrong.
Across from him, Ruby straightened with a sniff. “I'm all right, Father,” she said, accepting the handkerchief he offered. “Lord Danning kept me safe, as he promised.”
“Glad I am to hear that,” her father said, but the look he cast Whit spoke of doubts.
“And the others?” Whit asked as the Hollingsford coachman turned the carriage in front of Bellweather Hall. “I take it they reached the Lodge safely, as well.”
“A full two hours ago,” Ruby's father confirmed. “Talking about how the earth opened and tried to swallow you all.”
Ruby shuddered again as she dabbed at her cheeks. “I've never seen anything more frightful. I'm just thankful Whit knew what to do.”
Thank You, Lord.
The praise was easy, especially as the coach drew down toward the Lodge. Whit had never felt so thankful. He hadn't been concerned for himself, but the thought of losing Ruby didn't bear contemplation. And by her admission, the trip had terrified her. Even the redoubtable Ruby needed help sometimes, it seemed.
So did his other guests, with their own concerns. The moment he and Ruby entered the Lodge, they were besieged by both his staff and his guests.
“My lord, we were so worried,” Mr. Hennessy said, attempting to take Whit's water-damaged coat. “Mr. Calder marshaled a team to see if he could locate you.”
“Amelia was so distraught she nearly had to be put to bed with a tisane,” Lady Wesworth scolded Whit, having come out of the withdrawing room at the sound of the door.
“You should have taken Henrietta with you instead,” Mr. Stokely-Trent insisted beside her. “She knows any number of facts that might have helped.”
Behind him, his daughter nodded her agreement, face white and tight.
“And you would have returned a great deal sooner,” his wife added with a glance at Ruby that implied it was all her fault.
“If you'll give us a moment to change,” Whit said to them all, “I promise you a full explanation.”
They did not appear mollified, but he held them off long enough for Ruby to make her escape upstairs, then managed to break away, as well.
Quimby had him out of his wet things and into dry ones in the wink of an eye, tsking at the sight of Whit's boots.
“We'll have to send the clothes out to be laundered,” he said as Whit stood before a fire that had yet to truly warm him. The Lodge boasted no laundry of its own. He was seldom there long enough to require one.
“And we should look on the bright side,” Quimby continued. “At the very least, your guests can say it has been an interesting trip.” He came to slip the blue banyan over Whit's shoulders again.
A knock on the door spared Whit from answering. Quimby went to open it and admitted Ruby's father. Unlike when Whit had seen him in the coach, Hollingsford's face was set in stern lines, his long nose pointing to his chin.
“My lord,” he said. “I must have a word with you about Ruby.”
Whit took a step forward, ribs reminding him of his exertions. “Was she hurt after all?”
Hollingsford held up a hand. “My girl's made of stronger stuff. I've no doubt she'll be fine, physically. I'm more concerned about her reputation.”
“Won't you sit down, sir?” Quimby said, positioning one of the chairs closer to the fire he'd just stoked up. “Perhaps a cup of tea?”
“Neither, thank you,” Hollingsford said, keeping his gaze on Whit. “You must know, Danning, that a lady's reputation is all she has. That's particularly true of my Ruby.”
Whit stood taller. “I assure you, sir, that I have every respect for your daughter.”
“And can you tell me that nothing untoward happened today?” Hollingsford challenged.
Their kiss came to mind. Any father might have taken exception to such a show of...devotion? Had it been devotion that had moved either Whit or Ruby? At the moment, he could not begin to name his feelings, and he rather thought Ruby felt the same way. But there was certainly nothing in his feelings to harm her reputation. Besides, no one but them knew about that kiss.
“Nothing happened that might affect Ruby's standing on the
ton,
” Whit assured her father.
Hollingsford spread his hands. “Ruby told me the same thing. But the good London gossips will have it otherwise. A pretty young girl, alone for hours in the wilderness with a gentleman? You can imagine the tales Lady Wesworth and that Stokely-Trent woman will delight to tell.”
Whit wanted to protest further. Neither his honor nor the circumstances would have allowed him to take advantage of Ruby. The trouble was, he could well imagine what others might say. From the beginning, Lady Wesworth and Mrs. Stokely-Trent seemed to take Ruby in dislike. Because Ruby was not one of them, she must somehow be less. They would take particular pleasure in thinking that their opinions had been confirmed in this instance.
“What would you have me do?” Whit asked. “I doubt a command from me will seal their lips.”
“I share your doubts, my lord,” Ruby's father replied, taking a step forward and narrowing his eyes as if with purpose. “I fear there's only one remedy. You must offer for Ruby. Immediately.”
Chapter Ten
R
uby sighed as she snuggled deeper in the leather armchair by the fire. Her chilled feet, now clad in clean silk stockings, were finally starting to warm as she straightened them out before her. Her maid had taken away her mud-crusted walking dress and covered her in a fresh linen shift with a quilted dressing gown of spring green satin. The color reminded Ruby of the cliff she'd just climbed.
Her! Climbing cliffs. Crossing cascades. She grinned just remembering. She knew she'd have to make an appearance downstairs eventually, but at the moment it felt awfully good to sit and think.
Do You really listen to people like me, Lord?
The thought had been working its way up inside her ever since her talk with Whit. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, hoping for a response. When none came, she opened her eyes and sighed again. Was He silent because He never spoke to people like her, or was God silent because she really hadn't expected an answer?
She shook her head. Some faith!
She tried again, the satin warm beneath her fingers as she clasped her hands in her lap.
Lord, I don't know whether You care what's happening in my life, if my concerns truly matter in the scheme of things. But if You do, if they do, will You show me what You want?
Someone tapped at her door.
Ruby stiffened even as her maid hurried to respond. It couldn't be! That was a remarkably quick answer to a prayer, particularly one as hesitant as hers.
She looked up as her father came into the room, and with him, Whit. Perhaps it was the blue banyan, but Whit's eyes looked darker, deeper, as if etched with sorrow.
Ruby jumped from her chair. “What's wrong?”
Her father nodded to Whit. “Lord Danning wishes to speak to you.”
Ruby frowned at Whit. They'd had hours to talk. She couldn't imagine what was so important he had to come to her now, and with her father in tow. He was staring at her, and her fingers flew to her hair, which was unbound and flowing down her back. As if the movement awakened him, he bowed.
“Miss Hollingsford, I hope you took no ill from our adventure today.”
Why was he being so formal? Even her father knew he was now in the habit of calling her Ruby. “I'm fine,” Ruby assured him. “You brought me safely back to the Lodge, just as you promised.”
He took a step closer. “I try to be a man of my word. I hope you believe that.”
Where was this leading? “Certainly, my lord. You've proved yourself trustworthy.”
His mouth quirked, as if he was trying not to smile. Then he went down on one knee, gaze tilted up to hers. “Given your appreciation of me and my admiration for you, Ruby Hollingsford, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Ruby stared at him. His face was upturned, his gaze solemn, lips parted in expectation. He leaned forward as if her word alone would uphold him. It was the moment most girls dreamed of.
“No,” Ruby said, feeling the panic rising. “Don't be ridiculous.”
Whit blinked.
Ruby rushed forward and pulled at his shoulders. “Oh, do get up! You don't want to marry me, you know you don't.”
As Whit climbed to his feet, she turned to her father. “This is your doing, isn't it? You put him up to this!”
“I assure you, Ruby,” Whit said before her father could do more than open his mouth. “My admiration for you is real.”
“As is mine for you,” she told him. “But I don't wish to marry, and I thought you felt the same.”
“Don't be daft,” her father insisted. “There's no time like the present if two hearts agree.”
“And
are
hearts involved?” Ruby challenged him before whirling back to Whit. “Is yours? Do you claim yourself in love, sir?”
One corner of his mouth hitched up. “With you in such a mood, I wouldn't dare do otherwise.”
Ruby threw up her hands. “What an impassioned response. It must be love!”
Whit closed the distance between them and caught her hands, holding them in his own, his fingers warm and strong. “Good marriages have been built on admiration, Ruby. We are both intelligent people, dedicated to helping those we care about. I think we would do very well together.”
She could not deny that. Practical, polished, he had the skill to calm her mad starts, and she knew she had the ability to help order the demands that seemed to be placed upon him. But Lord Milton had wanted a relationship built only on passion, and Whit seemed to want one with none. Was there no such thing as a happy medium?
“But what if I want more?” she murmured, gaze on his.
“Like what?” he asked.
That he had to ask made her fear he would never understand.
“Love?” she suggested.
He released her hands, and she knew the answer before he spoke. “That may come, in time.”
“No,” Ruby said, backing away from him. “I won't take that chance.”
Her father sighed gustily. “What am I to do with you, girl? He's an earl!”
“That,” Ruby replied, head high, “was never the issue.”
“No,” Whit agreed, “but there is another. Our adventure today could cost you your reputation.”
Ruby glanced between her father's bobbing head and Whit's tight face. “Is that what this is all about? You are both determined to protect me. But my reputation, sirs, was never in peril.”
Her father avoided her gaze. “Alone for hours? Some might find fault.”
“Only an idiot would call struggling down a cliff seduction,” Ruby countered. “We were outdoors the entire time, in full view of anyone who might have happened along.”
“But no one happened along,” her father insisted. “So you have no witness to prove yourselves innocent.”
“No witness but our consciences,” Ruby assured him. “Lord Danning saved my life today. I won't jeopardize his by saddling him with a loveless marriage.”
“I would not see you harmed either,” Whit said. “Are you certain this business doesn't trouble you?”
He was watching her, head cocked and hands hanging loose as if he wasn't sure what to do with them.
“Not in the slightest,” Ruby said.
“Then why are you hiding up here,” her father asked with a wave of his hand that took in her bedchamber, “instead of down with the others?”
She could not deny the attraction of avoiding their critical gazes, their sneering remarks. “I'm tired,” she said and hoped he would leave it at that.
He didn't. “Ha!” he said, turning to Whit. “She knows she'll have trouble. You stick to your guns, my lord. Don't let her wiggle out of this.”
Ruby stiffened, ready to protest, to fight. Whit moved to her side, took her hand once more and gave it a squeeze before turning to her father.
“No, sir,” he said, “with all due respect. Ruby has refused my suit, and I admire her too much to go against her wishes.”
Ruby raised a brow. Whit bowed over her hand. “Only know that I am your devoted servant, my dear. Don't be concerned about the other guests. There will be no more unkind remarks.” With a nod to her father, he strode from the room.
Ruby sighed.
“You see!” her father crowed. “You do favor him!”
“What I favor is the fact that he listens to me.” Ruby picked up her skirts and marched back to the chair. “Which is more than I can say for some.” She plopped down on the seat.
“I listen,” her father protested, following her. “I just don't agree with you. He's a fine man, Ruby, not like that Milton fellow.”
Ruby glared up at him, and he held up his hands. “Right, right, not a word about him in your presence. But think about Lord Danning instead. He's not so toplofty.”
“He isn't the slightest bit toplofty,” Ruby corrected him, gaze on the glow of the fire.
“Clever, too,” her father pressed.
She could not deny that either. “Quite clever. You should have seen him navigate the cliffs today.”
Her father leaned closer. “And you can't say he isn't kind on the eyes.”
Heat flushed up her, and she gripped the carved wooden arms of the chair. “None of that matters, since I don't intend to marry at all, and certainly not without love.” She eyed him a moment. “What am I going to do with you? You cannot keep pushing men at me. I won't have them.”
“So what will you do?” her father countered. “Don't tell me you wish to care for me in my old age. You'd make a horrid nurse!”
Ruby couldn't help a laugh. “That's true enough. I haven't the patience. But are those my only choicesâmarriage or nursing? Perhaps I could go into trade, as you did.”
He snorted as he turned away. “May the good Lord spare you from my path.”
Ruby shook her head. “You're doing it too brown. I know you struggled in the early years, but you've done very well for yourself.”
He turned back. “And may I not want better for you?”
“Certainly, so long as your wants do not overshadow mine.”
“Cheeky,” he said. “Always have been.”
“Always will be,” she replied with a tight smile.
He sighed. “I suppose you'll be wanting me to take you back to London.”
Two days ago, she would have jumped at the chance. Now, she couldn't help thinking of Whit. If she left, some of the tension in the house would likely leave with her, as there would be one less candidate for his wife. But without her here, he would be at the mercy of the others.
Her father had left her to the mercy of bullies when they lived in Wapping because he had had to make a living for them both. After their fortune was made and he'd sent her away to school, he hadn't known he'd left her to the mercy of her cruel classmates, as well. But she knew the feeling, and she couldn't abandon Whit.
“I'll stay through the end of the fortnight,” Ruby said, then held up a hand as her father brightened. “But only to help Lord Danning.”
“Oh, of course, of course,” her father said with a nod. “Only natural you would want to help him, him saving your life and all.”
“And you're going to help him, too,” Ruby said. “On the first night, he laid out a plan for the visit. Do you remember?”
Her father ticked the activities off on his fingers. “Walk to the cascade, fish, visit his lordship's horse farm.” His eyes widened. “My word, but he's nothing left!”
“And a full week remaining,” Ruby agreed. “Services will take up some time tomorrow, but after that, they'll be at his throat.”
Her father started pacing. “I don't know this area well. Might there be a summer fair we can venture to? Perhaps take them all on a picnic among those flowers?”
Ruby narrowed her eyes in thought. “We need something more original, something that will set them talking, capture their imaginations.”
Her father started grinning. “I have an idea for you. I really did have a business purpose for bringing you up to Derbyshire. There's a new Blue John artist in the area just west of Castleton, perhaps an hour's drive. He's expecting me anytime this week.”
Ruby smiled, as well. “Perfect! We'll organize a visit for all Lord Danning's guests. That ought to keep them busy, for a day at least!”
* * *
After her staunch refusal of his suit, Whit paused outside the door of Ruby's bedchamber, listening to the murmur of her voice. He was certain the events of the day had made his choice for him, yet here he stood a free man.
He could not understand her. In truth, most of the women he'd met would have latched on to his proposal and congratulated themselves on catching an earl. Certainly Lady Amelia or Henrietta would have been delighted to be victors in the wife campaign, or at least their parents would have gloated. Yet Ruby had stuck to her beliefs and refused. He was rather proud of her.
And disappointed.
He shook his head as he turned from the door, trying to push his emotions away. Yes, he found Ruby's company refreshing. Yes, their kiss had been stirring. But in truth he doubted his fledgling feelings met the criteria for the kind of marriage he had hoped for. Besides, he was quite busy at the moment. Perhaps when the next round of renovations to the orphan asylum was completed, his estates in Suffolk enclosed and his tenant holdings improved, he might have time for a wife. Just the thought of what was waiting for him when he returned from Fern Lodge was enough to sober him. The weight of his responsibilities crouched over him, ready to pounce.
For now, he had another task that took precedence. He had guests to attend to, and he would need to make the appropriate appearance. He returned to his room long enough to affix the Danning diamond stickpin in his cravat, then located his guests in the withdrawing room.
He was pleased to see that Charles had returned. His cousin was standing by the doors to the veranda in conversation with Henrietta while the other ladies lounged closer to the fire.
Mr. Stokely-Trent, leaning against the mantel, spotted him first. “Lord Danning, welcome,” he called, straightening.
The others looked his way and immediately expressed delight in his company. Whit remained where he was, so they could all see him.
“Thank you,” he told them. “I'm sure you'll notice that Miss Hollingsford and her father were unable to return to our sides. There appears to be some concern that you will find her wanting.”
Charles and Mr. Stokely-Trent frowned, but Lady Wesworth and Mrs. Stokely-Trent exchanged glances.
“I did wonder whether some might consider our time together today as scandalous,” Whit continued, forcing his fingers not to fist at his sides. “Therefore, I asked Miss Hollingsford to marry me.”
Lady Amelia gasped. Mrs. Stokely-Trent blanched.
Lady Wesworth pushed herself to her feet, skirts rustling against the carpet. “What a gallant gesture, my lord, but I assure you there was no need.”
“Miss Hollingsford quite agrees with you,” Whit informed her. “She refused me out of hand.”