The Davenports(90)

“I don’t know. You’re telling me you’ve lied. To everyone. You’re telling me you used my sister, my parents.” She wrapped her arms around herself as if she could keep her pieces from falling apart. “I care about you, Jacob, not what you can offer me. I fell for you. Now I don’t know. What am I supposed to do with this?” A sob disguised as a hiccup escaped her chest, which heaved uncontrollably. “I want you to go.”

“Helen, please—”

“Please, just go,” she said, relieved she alone knew what he had done. She hated the way her voice sounded now. Small and fragile. Not at all like herself. Why had he not trusted her with the truth? Mr. Lawrence held her gaze, pain written over his features.

He composed himself, and with a nod, turned away.

Helen, too hurt to wipe her tears, watched him go.





CHAPTER 41


    Ruby



“My, they certainly have outdone themselves.” Mr. Barton’s eyes traveled across the ballroom, where every inch was meticulously decorated. Ruby watched him soak in the room. His tuxedo fit him well, the white waistcoat and bow tie contrasted beautifully with his skin and the bright black and gold of his mask. Ruby placed her arm on his and stared at the spot where he had tried to place a ring on her finger. It was a beautiful piece modeled after her namesake pendant that couldn’t make it past the last knuckle. It was now in the care of the same jeweler who had polished her ruby, getting sized.

She was overjoyed. And not having the ring on her finger bought Ruby some time, though precious little of it, to come clean to her parents about Harrison. Did they not think their friendship with the Davenports strong enough to secure their support? Two hundred guests had arrived in disguise to the Davenport family home to support her father’s campaign!

Ruby kept her eyes peeled for her parents, who chose to arrive with another couple. She prayed she would be able to intercept them before dread caused her to sweat through her crimson bodice. Surely they’d understand love is preferable to whatever her relationship to John was now. She wanted to believe that they wanted more for her than just the Davenports’ last name.

“Would you like to dance?”

Ruby smiled. A dance couldn’t hurt. She let Mr. Barton lead her into the center of the floor. His palm settled low on her back and they began to move. He really was a fabulous dancer. It was one of the reasons she first enjoyed his company. The music enveloped them. The couples around them turned in blurs of colors, of silk or satin, spinning wheels.

“Do you remember the first time we danced?” she asked.

His lips twitched and he leaned in. “To be honest, I think I fell for you right then.” He gently turned her underneath his arm. When he pulled her close, it was to press her back to his chest. The heat of him devoured her doubts. “I knew,” he whispered against the sensitive part of her neck, “that I would never find anyone else like you.” He spun her away and when they met again, Ruby placed her head on his shoulder. She imagined a lifetime of dances like this. Maybe they could spend the whole evening here, hidden in the crowd.

They spent two more dances doing just that, and then Mr. Barton wanted to get a drink. Ruby walked beside him, her focus darting in every direction. Her breath stuck in her chest. All she could see were bursts of color between tuxedo black, faces shielded by masks. She held tight to his arm, searching for her parents. A breath escaped her lips when she saw the refreshments table blessedly free.

“Are you all right?” he asked. He pressed a hand to her damp forehead. “We’ll take our drinks outside. Some fresh air might do you some good.”

Her agreement was on the tip of her tongue when a sharp pain erupted at her elbow. Her mother had appeared like the specter she feared and pulled Ruby to a secluded alcove, Mr. Barton in tow. Ruby tried to untangle herself from her mother, but it was too late. She stood her ground between them now, hoping that whatever came, he would still be holding her hand afterward.

“Mrs. Tremaine, lovely to see you,” he said. His voice was warm, if a bit uncertain. Though her mother smiled, there was nothing friendly about it. The three removed their masks and Ruby saw that her mother’s errant eyebrow had shot up to her hairline.

“What is this nonsense about you being engaged? Mrs. Davis is walking around telling everyone who will listen that you and Mr. Barton are engaged.”

Harrison turned to Ruby. “We are.”

Mrs. Tremaine narrowed her eyes at her daughter.

Ruby’s heart pounded in her chest. “Harrison and I are in love.”

“Love?” Mrs. Tremaine said. “Ruby, we’ve discussed love and marriage, and you are marrying John Davenport.”

“I don’t understand,” said Mr. Barton. “Ruby, you did tell them how we felt about each other before I proposed.”

Mrs. Tremaine inhaled sharply. “My word, you aim to disappoint us at every turn. You will fix this mess,” her mother said. Ruby and Mr. Barton watched her replace her mask and glide back into the crowd.

Slowly, Ruby turned to face Harrison.

“You said they approved, that you, in no uncertain terms, were done with Davenport.”

“Harrison, I’m sorry. I was planning—I tried once—”

“Once?” He pulled his hand from hers. It felt like he’d ripped her arm out with it.