Page 68 of Forgotten No More

Ruby felt the tears resume their path down her makeup-streaked face and forced a smile to her lips. “I truly hope you are right.”

“Have you not learned by now that I am always correct?”

Chapter 27

Harold walked the crowded room. While many of the partygoers flitted about like they hadn’t a care, Harold felt the weight of the world upon his shoulders. His brother had sent word that a crew had been obtained and they were now preparing to set sail. He’d received a bill just that morning detailing all the food and commodities needed for their maiden voyage to France.

He attempted to mingle and keep his mind off the work he should be helping with at the docks. No conversation drew his attention for more than a moment or two. He’d twirled a young debutante about the dance floor and retrieved refreshments for a pair of matrons who were so involved in a conversation about the deterioration of the walking paths in Hyde Park that they didn’t notice his hasty departure shortly thereafter.

It was startling how many ton members he’d met in his short time in town. It was true that none had sought a deeper acquaintance, but neither had he. Enjoying his time was one thing; creating a life he would eventually have to forsake was another. The notion of a viscount or earl journeying to the vicarage for a visit was comical at best. He knew he’d have chance meetings with acquaintances when they vacationed at Haversham House, but further than that he had no expectation of a continued association.

Harold stopped by a palm on the outskirts of the dance floor and watched the multicolored dresses and headwear blend and swirl about. The movement in the room stirred stagnant air, simulating a breeze through the room. The music from the string quartet seated on the platform next to the garden entrance could barely be heard above the conversation on the floor and the laughter of rowdy men in the card room.

A group of distinguished men spoke in hushed tones to the left of him. He watched as a group of fashionably dressed women pushed their offspring, each outfitted in a different variation of pastels, toward the gentlemen. The fellows hadn’t noticed the group converging on them as yet. The young girls looked frightened, with eyes as round as saucers. Their mothers could be described as nothing less than determined.

This cat and mouse game within the ton’s elite nobility was one Harold had no wish to ever be a part of. Neither the seeker nor the prey.

He knew the moment the men realized a trap had been set for them because they scattered like mice in all directions, leaving only one gentleman who’d been too slow to make his own escape.

Returning his gaze to the dance floor, he admired Brock as he swung Lady Haversham in wide circles about the floor, seemingly at ease moving amongst the other couples, even with her growing middle. They were both entranced with one another. It was highly rare for the pair to leave each other’s arms while in public. Many would disagree with Lady Haversham’s decision to journey into the city for the season in her condition, but all of London appeared to enjoy the couple, despite the scandal they had caused last year. Few would suspect the sordid details of their initial meeting, looking at them now.

Lord and Lady Haversham continued their journey across the dance floor and out of Harold’s line of sight. He looked over the crowded room in search of some distraction to pass the remaining time until his hosts were ready to retire home. It was rare for them to leave before the final song was played.

A woman, dressed in the purest of ivory silk, made her way into the room from the terrace on the arm of a dashing figure Harold didn’t recognize. The glow from the many chandeliers in the room reflected off the single pearl that hung around her slender neck. Her dark hair was gathered tight upon her head, matching teardrop pearls swinging from each delicate ear.

She laughed, and he could swear he heard the musical lilt above the noise of the band and many conversations in the room. He’d heard the sound only a few times, but it had written itself into his memory. Something the man said had her blushing as he maneuvered her toward the line in front of the refreshment table.

Harold should be the one to make her laugh—to make her blush. Instead, he only incited her fury and harsh words. If she would only give him a chance…

But no, he needed to stay focused on his venture. If she sought out his help, he would do all in his power for her. Truly, until she was ready to confide in him the secret he had already learned, he could only keep watch over her in order to ensure she neither injured herself nor called into question Lord and Lady Haversham’s reputations.

Ruby and her escort made their way through the line and accepted drinks from a servant. Harold watched them make their way along the outskirts of the ballroom, much as he had. The gentleman nodded or exchanged greeting with people as they passed, but never lingered longer than necessary. Ruby rarely made eye contact with those they stopped to speak with, only curtsying and nodding when the need arose.

Suddenly, the room felt overly crowded and swelteringly hot. He needed to depart for cooler air, but could not take his eyes from the couple.

Startled, Harold realized he was jealous of the man, envious of his position at Ruby’s side.

He should be the one to escort her about the room—and she should hold her head high, not cast her gaze upon the feet of English nobility. She deserved to be the center of attention; her intelligent musings would delight the entire room. Instead, this man ushered her about as if she was a pet upon his arm, only good for others to look at but never address. She was more than a pretty gem to be admired.

Finally, she excused herself and Harold watched as she made her way to the opening between the foyer and the ballroom. She glanced over her shoulder. When she spotted Lady Haversham, occupied on the dance floor, she slipped through the doorway and disappeared from his view.

Did woman never tire of putting herself at risk?

Before he knew what he was doing, he moved along the perimeter of the ballroom toward the door through which she’d just departed. He passed the man who’d escorted her moments before and brushed against him as he passed, with nary a ‘begging your pardon.’ Harold was satisfied when the man wobbled on unsteady feet at his nudge.

If he didn’t hurry, Ruby would slip from the house and he would not know which direction she’d gone—if she indeed planned on leaving the house. The ball they attended was thrown by a newly appointed, yet wealthy baron and baroness. Ruby’s list of men all tended to be of a mature age with a long lineage.

As he approached the doorway, he cut across the fringes of the dance floor, in between two slowly moving couples. Only a few odd looks were cast his way, but thankfully the ton resumed their watch of more noteworthy attendees.

At last, he left the room and found himself in the sparsely populated entry. His eyes darted around the cavernous room until he spotted her, not far from the main door. She stood in quiet conversation with Alex, her hand pressed tightly to her mouth, her eyes round with shock and her skin drained of all color.

Chapter 28

Ruby ran through the door, not pausing to knock nor caring if anyone took issue with that.

The entry hall was deserted.

Her labored breathing made it impossible to hear whether anyone was about. Without thinking, she rushed up the main stairs to the second floor, as if a magnet drew her in that direction. A servant walked slowly toward her when she gained the top landing. The young girl’s head snapped up at the sound of Ruby’s heavy breathing.