Winterberry Spark: A Silver Foxes of Westminster Novella (The Silver Foxes of Westminster #2.5)(13)

“Like you did when you handed the boy over to that Miss Goode?” Mrs. Murphy said. When Ruby snapped an alarmed glance her way, she went on with, “Oh yes. Don’t think we don’t know about your part in that.”

“Aiding and abetting, innit?” Mrs. Martin said, crossing her arms.

“I—” Ruby’s mouth hung open. Sadness like a heavy blanket descended on her. It didn’t matter how much she explained to these women, how much she begged their pardon, she would never be forgiven. They would never see her as anything other than a menace and a bad influence.

She closed her mouth and let out a breath. “I’m sorry. I just want to be sure James is settled, and I’ll—”

Mrs. Jones shoved her shoulder, forcing Ruby to stumble back a step. “Get out of here.”

“Go on,” Mrs. Martin added, shoving her other shoulder so that she stumbled again. “We don’t want your kind around our children.”

Several of the children playing in the schoolyard stopped to watch the confrontation.

“Please,” Ruby pleaded, hugging Faith, who was growing fussy. “Let me just make sure James is safe.”

Mrs. Jones shoved her again, harder. “It’s a bit too late for that.”

“We gonna have to make you leave?” Mrs. Murphy pushed her so hard Ruby nearly fell as she reeled back.

“I’ll go, I’ll go,” Ruby whispered, her throat squeezing.

“What’s going on out here?”

All four of the women advancing on Ruby whipped around at the sound of Mr. Turnbridge’s voice. The handsome, young teacher marched down the school steps with a frown. He didn’t wear a coat over his suit, which showed off his fine physique.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked as he came to a stop in front of the ladies.

“We don’t want the likes of her anywhere near our young ’uns,” Mrs. Murphy said.

“She’s a moral cesspit,” Mrs. Lawson, the one who had remained silent so far, said.

Mr. Turnbridge pressed his lips together, frowning at Ruby. But he had just as much censure for the other women. “Miss Murdoch is nursemaid to James Croydon. She has brought him to school every time he’s joined us since this summer. Why do you suddenly object now?”

The women looked affronted. “You heard what she is, sir, didn’t you?” Mrs. Murphy said.

“She’s a whore, that one.” Mrs. Jones stuck a thumb in Ruby’s direction and jerked her head.

Mr. Turnbridge’s frown deepened. “I have heard the rumors,” he said. “That is all they are.”

“That’s not all they are,” Mrs. Murphy insisted. “We don’t want her fouling our young girls and seducing our boys.”

Ruby lowered her head. There was no point in arguing that she wouldn’t do either unspeakable thing. “I’ll go,” she said softly, hugging Faith.

“Oy!” Mrs. Lawson yelped. “She got that bastard baby with her?”

“Spawn of Satan,” Mrs. Martin grumbled.

“Enough, ladies.” Mr. Turnbridge raised his hands. He glanced sympathetically to Ruby. “I’ll make sure that James is looked after. And as for you,” he turned to the other women. “You are free to go about your business, seeing as your help will not be necessary for our rehearsal.”

The women sniffed and stood straighter, not sure whether they’d just been insulted and told to get out or appeased. Ruby didn’t stay around to find out. She turned and walked out of the schoolyard, into the snowy street, then paused.

If she walked all the way back to Winterberry Park, she’d have to turn around and head back to town immediately to meet James as his rehearsal ended. In the past, she’d waited in the back of the school until it was time to walk James home. She didn’t have any money to spend at Lanhill’s one café, and she didn’t have a single friend in town. She had nothing to do, nowhere to go.

She drew in a breath, hugging Faith. If she stood where she was, her feet would freeze. There was nothing to do but walk, without direction, without a destination. It would be the same kind of walking she would do once she was turned out of Winterberry Park. Dark, whispering thoughts rose up in her like thorn vines. She would save everyone a lot of trouble if she dropped Faith off at the church, walked down to the river, and jumped into its icy depths.

Her footsteps took her all the way to the silent, snowy churchyard. She paused just inside the gate, staring up at the cozy parish church. It always looked and felt so welcoming, so homey when she’d sat there with the other Winterberry servants for church on Sunday. Rev. Fallon was such a cheery man, in spite of the whirlwind of family, friends, and babies that always surrounded him. His wife was a happy, caring woman as well, who looked out for all of the families in Lanhill, whether they wanted her to or not.

“Hello? Hello there.” As if Ruby’s thoughts had summoned her, Clara Fallon opened the door of the vicarage and stepped out to greet Ruby, a baby in each arm. “Do you need help?”

Ruby turned her head and blinked at the woman. Her throat was still sore, and she swallowed. Tears stung her eyes, and she nodded.

“Oh, dear,” Clara said, hurrying down the path to meet Ruby. “Looks like you do need help. Come in, come in.”

Ruby took a few steps toward the vicarage, but stopped. “I can’t,” she said, feeling as heavy as if she were made from stone.