She needed him to be her friend, her loving friend.
He adored Ruth.
Their secrets should never keep them apart.
Chapter Twenty-Three
To the Theater
Ester followed me down the stairs. I felt pretty, but I wondered how this night at the theater would go.
We walked arm and arm into Mama’s parlor.
“Ruth, I still don’t approve of him, but I approve of you.”
I didn’t need Ester’s blessing to go with Wycliff, but I was grateful for it. I put my arms about her and gave her a hug before sitting on the windowsill to wait for Wycliff’s carriage.
“You have a good time, Ruth.”
I smiled, but my nerves raged. This should be an amusement, but I feared what tricks Adam’s killer would do at the theater. I nodded at my sister. “I will, Ester. I deserve to enjoy myself with Lord Wycliff.”
“That is very good to hear, my dear.”
Ester groaned. “Your footfalls are too silent. And this is a private conversation.”
Wycliff came fully into the room. “But how else will I hear all this wonderful chatter?”
I folded my arms. “Don’t get a big head about it. I can change my mind.”
“It’s your prerogative. It’s mine to enjoy you. Methinks you are growing more convinced of partnering with me? My lonely life needs you.”
Frowning, Ester tugged on her shawl and walked close to the baron. “Please prove my suspicions wrong.”
She left, slamming the door behind her.
“You deserve a good time with me. I like the sound of that, Ruth.”
Mrs. Fitterwall poked her head in with Chris in her arms. “Ma’am, he was insistent in coming down.”
I went to Chris and kissed my son’s head.
He jumped up and knocked off my glasses, but Wycliff caught them.
“Sorry, Mama.” His golden face was a little red. He went to Wycliff and hugged him about the knees. “I’m so glad you came. I saw a frog in my book. I put my puppet on it.”
I watched him pick up my boy and swing him about. His new heeled jet slippers made no squeaks, but I imagined the soles knocking against the floor. I’d love to hear the rhythm to know when he was about, to learn it, to look for him.
“Son, have you been good to your mother?”
“Yes, my lord, but it’s only been a few days.”
“I’ve been thinking about you, and how we still didn’t find any live frogs. I was sure we’d see one at Hyde Park. I hate disappointing people I love.”
He lifted a package wrapped with a red ribbon.
My gut twisted. Those ribbons had come to mean rejection. My hands were out as if to block the gift from Chris. “You didn’t have to do anything. You’ve been too generous.”
“Not generous enough. I’ve missed at least three birthdays. Here, my boy.”
