‘Do you really think the viscount would do that?’
Ruby rubbed her stomach. ‘Oh, he’d pay me off, I’ve no doubt, but I’ve not yet earned more than a diamond bracelet or something of that nature.’
‘And you want the whole Crown Jewels? How about we agree that Jacob and I will not be precipitate. Things will change when you have the child, you must realise that? The viscount might decide that he does not want a mistress who is more concerned with her baby than him.’
Ruby shook her head at that. ‘I’m no fool. I’ll hire a nurse and keep the child out of the way when Arthur calls. He will barely know she exists. He is paying for a fantasy– a dream of a woman who lives only for him and is raising a perfect family of pretty little by-blows who think he is wonderful, children who will beg sweets from him and call him Papa. I intend to provide him with his dream.’
Dora cocked her head to one side. ‘Do you love him, Ruby? Are your feelings the least bit engaged in what you have with him? It sounds to me like you are approaching this as though you were playing a role.’
‘Perhaps I am. If I were you, I would tell me that that was wise.’
‘It sounds a loveless existence.’
Ruby shrugged. ‘I’ll have the children to love. You know me– I’m not sure I have any strong feelings for men other than fear and annoyance. I can desire them, find them amusing in bed, but if I could live my life without relying on one, I’d be truly happy.’ Ruby dumped the rest of her cards. ‘You win. Let’s look at the ladies’ magazines together. You can help me pick out a gown for my first party.’
‘Oh, Ruby…’ Dora felt sorrow swamp her. The abuse her friend had suffered as a child had turned her into this cynic.
Ruby swatted her with the rolled magazine. ‘Stop it. I will not be pitied. Why don’t we agree that we will attempt not to ruin each other’s happiness?’
‘Agreed.’ Dora sneaked a look at Ruby. ‘If we do marry, I’ll invite you to the wedding. That will put the fox in the henhouse.’
Ruby chuckled. ‘For that, I’d almost say go wed your doctor immediately. We two actresses, veterans of the northern circuit, live for nothing if not to set the world arsy-varsy.’
Dora did not give Ruby a firm answer as to whether she would attend Ruby’s first party. It sounded like the viscount would veto Jacob’s presence, so that made it awkward for Dora to attend. She returned to the carriage that the footman was holding ready for her, grateful to have escaped the house before Arthur arrived. Encountering him on the doorstep would be deeply awkward.
That was an odd relationship, she thought, as the carriage rocked away over the cobbles, Arthur wanting the façade of a family but none of the commitment. Did he realise it was a husk, that Ruby had no real loyalty to him? He probably did at some level. It was as though they had both consented to play their appointed roles and were angry when anyone else broke into their bubble and questioned them. The viscount was using his money to hold life’s complications at bay, playing it safe in a relationship he could control.
How different was her own arrangement. Jacob could have petitioned her harder to accept a similar place in his life, she realised. Her feelings were engaged so he might have been able to wear her down, she was not sure. Yet he had not pressed oncehe was aware that she held herself to her own standards, ones of independence and choice. If she married him, by law she would be surrendering some of those choices, the most important ones. Her body and children would no longer be hers. Any money she had would become his– not that that was a problem, considering the disparity in their fortune. She would as far as the law was concerned cease to exist independently and could not detach herself from him if things turned sour. Ruby had more choices than she did in that respect. She would have to flee the country and become someone else, if that happened with Jacob.
But would it? She knew in her bones that Jacob was fundamentally decent. He loved her and would use those powers to protect her. That would be annoying, of course, but what if they negotiated the limits of what he would ask? Hemight not be bound by the law to respect her wishes but he would keep his word, as he had proved time and again.
It meant taking a chance on a man. Ruby wouldn’t, but would Dora?
Pondering these things, Dora let the carriage sweep her back to Mayfair.
Chapter Twenty-One
Barnes Terrace
The agent for the owner of the house on the banks of the Thames did not balk at showing a potential client around even though it was short notice. Jacob surmised that this was because he was aware that the notoriety of a double murder made it a less than restful location for someone looking for a rural retreat.
The dapper gentleman held a lace-trimmed handkerchief in his hand which he flourished like some fop of the previous century. His clothing, however, was sober and worthy of a follower of Beau Brummel. He’d only looked askance twice at Jacob’s bruises and the cane he used for his limping walk. Curiosity was eating him up, but he was too well bred to comment.
‘Sir will notice that the hall is very spacious, unexpectedly so for a terrace house. The servants’ apartments are airy and there is a decent-sized kitchen. The last client’—the one who had expired in a pool of blood, Jacob added silently—‘kept a French cook and he was more than satisfied with the arrangements.’
‘Pleased to hear it. Make a note, Smith.’ Jacob was in his most pompous persona. Alex winked behind the agent’s back and muttered:
‘Very good, sir. French cook.’
Mr Falconberg jumped neatly over the first stair and the one at the very top, making no mention that he was avoiding the places where the last occupiers had died. The man was obviously superstitious and attempting to avoid the bad luck that came with walking on the spot where someone had expired in violence. ‘The house is very well appointed, and I doubt it will remain long on the market.’ He didn’t think that at all, but he had to give his sales push. ‘I believe the best features are the rooms on the first floor. There’s a very fine salon with a river view and two principal apartments looking out on the garden at the back, very quiet.’
Jacob obediently followed him upstairs, Alex trailing behind them. He paused inside the empty salon. Without any furniture, and the carpets rolled up, it felt cold and cheerless despite the view of the sluggish Thames and its flotilla of boats. ‘As you said, very well appointed. I’m most interested in the bedrooms. My wife-to-be is very particular about noise at night.’
Falconberg nodded sagely. ‘A very discerning lady. We have two on this floor. The one decorated to a lady’s taste is through here.’ He led them to a room decked out with the appearance of Versailles under Louis XIV– white and gold. Ifthe furniture had been similar, it would have been very striking but overblown for a terrace in Barnes. Dust shadows on the wall denoted where mirrors had hung.
‘Very good. And the gentleman’s room?’
‘Back into the corridor and then the next door.’ The agent turned.
