Page 11 of Forgotten No More

“No.”

“I only want to know why you’re acting so peculiar,” Vi huffed.

Ruby debated whether to confide in her friend—truly, the only friend she’d ever had. But to tell anyone about her mother’s disloyalty would tarnish the memory of her father, the man who’d raised her. No matter what her mother had or had not done, Ruby owed her father more respect and devotion than to parade their family’s dirty laundry about town. Besides which, while she trusted Vi completely, she could not risk exposing her to any stress at this early point in her pregnancy.

“I’m overly tired, that’s all. I just need to acclimate to the hectic pace of life in town.”

“I suspect you will adjust with time. Please, do not fret.” Her friend smiled in understanding. “I do understand. The change from country life to town life has been exhausting for me, as well.”

A door closed quietly behind them and they both turned.

“Good day, ladies,” Harold mumbled, bowing slightly in their direction. Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked back toward the main staircase.

“Everyone is acting peculiar,” Vi sighed. “Maybe there is something going around.”

Ruby was at a loss. There was undoubtedly something going on, if not around as well. Deceiving Vi wasn’t what she’d set out to do. If she could only keep her secret for a while longer and discover who her true father was, then she could return to her family estate with no one the wiser. Then she would have ample time to decide her next move—or to forget everything she’d learned, if that was what she chose. She would write Vi from the safety of the country and explain everything.

“I am sure Mr. Jakeston is a busy man.” Harold had covered for her the previous evening; the least she could do was extend the same courtesy, even though it irked her to do so. “I must be on my way. I have many letters to write. The children at the Foundling House have taken to corresponding quite regularly since you arranged for their letters to be brought to us weekly.”

Vi smiled, as she often did at the mention of her children. “I do so appreciate you writing them. I know they love when the morning post arrives and there are letters for each of them.”

Ruby comforted herself with the knowledge that she did plan to write a few of the children that day—just not right that moment. “I know you wish we could be with them more often. The least I can do is write, make sure they are keeping up with their studies and not giving Mrs. Hutton a difficult time.”

“Brock promised me a trip to the country as soon as he can tear himself away for a few days. If I am well enough to travel, of course.” Vi’s face lit up at the mention of her new husband. “I do so hope you will come with us.”

“There is no place I’d rather be.” Another promise she hoped not to break. “I will see you shortly.”

Ruby gave Vi a reassuring smile, although it was meant more to convince herself that things would be fine. No one would find her true reason for being in London; no chance meeting would transpire between her and her mother; she would find her true father and, regardless of the outcome of their meeting, she’d retire once more to the country.

“Ruby?”

“Oh, did you say something?”

“I asked if you still plan to accompany Brock and me this evening.”

“This evening?” For the life of her, Ruby couldn’t remember what gathering she’d agreed to attend this evening. How society members kept up with all the social gatherings during the season was beyond her.

“The ball at Lord Spires’s home, you ninny.”

How could she have forgotten? But a better question, how had she neglected to call off? “Of course, I would not miss it.” And by ‘not miss it,’ Ruby meant she’d be searching all afternoon for a reason not to attend. She had limited evening gowns and Lord Spires was not on her list of possible fathers.

Time was of the essence and she hadn’t any to spare on an evening out.

“Wonderful,” Vi said. “I’m off to write a few letters of my own.”

Ruby turned toward the room Harold had vacated, hoping her notes hadn’t been disturbed.

“Oh, and Ruby,” her friend called before she was able to escape. “Would you mind checking up on Alex at the Marquis of Drake’s? I worry about him.”

The name—the Marquis of Drake—was familiar, mainly because it was amongst the few that remained on her list. “Yes, I will go round and check on him shortly.”

“No reason to go out of your way. Perhaps you can write a note and have one of the servants run it round to the marquis’ stable.”

She’d agree to anything to be done with their conversation and back at her writing desk. “I most certainly will.”

But only after she determined whether Harold had looked through her personal pages—and what he might have found. Thankfully, she had at least slipped her mother’s journal into her apron before he’d entered the room. It was small comfort, but she would take what she could get.

Chapter 6