Winterberry Spark: A Silver Foxes of Westminster Novella (The Silver Foxes of Westminster #2.5)(14)

“Of course you can,” Clara replied, continuing down the path until she reached Ruby’s side.

Ruby shook her head and leaned away. “You haven’t heard the rumors, have you.” It wasn’t a question. No one who had heard about her past would accept her into polite company.

But to Ruby’s surprise, Clara laughed. “I have. And believe me, you need to come inside and have a cup of tea.”

There was so much warmth and amusement in the tall, American woman’s expression. Ruby was too confused to protest when Clara nudged her into motion, steering her toward the house. Faith was fully awake and, by the feel of things, needed a change, so Ruby walked on.

“Take your coat off and sit for a spell,” Clara instructed her once they were in the house with the door closed.

Ruby glanced around. A cheerful fire blazed in the fireplace, warming the vicarage’s modest front room. The room wasn’t tidy—which would have shocked women like Mrs. Murphy and Mrs. Jones just as deeply as the revelations of Ruby’s past—but it had a comfortable, inviting look. The Fallon’s older twins sat within a fenced-in area in the corner, playing with wooden animals. Clara crossed to the makeshift pen and deposited the younger twins—who looked close to Faith’s age—beside them.

“There’s room for one more, if you’re willing to give it a try,” Clara said, nodding to the squirming bulge in Ruby’s coat.

“I think she needs a new nappy,” Ruby whispered.

Clara laughed again. “We have plenty of those.”

Ruby felt as though she had stepped into a dream the moment she crossed the threshold into the vicarage. Clara showed her where spare changing supplies were, then fixed tea while Ruby cleaned up Faith. Faith fussed at first when Ruby deposited her in the pen with the Fallon children, but was quickly so distracted by the toys and the other children her age that she ignored Ruby entirely to focus on her new playmates. That meant that Ruby could sit on the sofa with Clara, accepting a cup of tea and a sugared biscuit without worry. It was so vastly different than the way she had been treated only minutes before that Ruby didn’t know what to make of things.

“Have the Croydons had any luck finding you a new position?” Clara asked once everything was settled. When Ruby blinked at her in surprise, Clara waved with a biscuit in her hand and said, “Mr. Croydon has consulted with Arthur on matters of deep importance ever since I’ve known him. He and Mrs. Croydon were down here the day before yesterday asking if we knew of any open positions.”

“Do you?” Ruby blurted before she could remember her manners. “Know of any positions, I mean,” she added with a softer tone.

Clara sighed. “Not at the moment. I’m afraid news of your past traveled quickly.”

Ruby sagged, staring into her chipped teacup, wondering if it was the last friendly offering she would ever receive.

“Don’t worry,” Clara told her. “I know we’ll find something.”

Ruby glanced mournfully up at her. “I’m not so certain. I’ve a black mark now that won’t ever go away.”

“Why not?” Clara shrugged.

Ruby couldn’t believe the woman’s magnanimity. That or her simplicity. “I was a whore,” she admitted in a tiny voice. “It’s a path a woman can never go back from.”

Of all things, Clara laughed, her eyes sparkling with mirth. “That’s what you think.”

It was the most incongruous reaction Ruby had ever seen. All she could do was gape in response.

Clara seemed to sense her confusion. “Do you know why I left America to come here?” she asked.

“To work at Winterberry Park?” Ruby had heard the story several times from the other maids and Mrs. Musgrave.

But Clara shook her head. “That was why I came here, but it wasn’t why I left.” She paused for only a moment before going on with, “Before coming to England, doing a terrible job of working as a maid, and marrying Arthur, I was employed at a brothel in Wyoming.”

Ruby could have been knocked over by a light breeze. “You were?” she asked, her voice little more than a squeak.

Clara nodded. “It wasn’t something I did by choice, of course, and I would never go back. But the fact of the matter is, you and I are not so different.”

Ruby was speechless. Her mind could barely accept what Clara was saying, and yet, no woman, especially not the wife of the town’s vicar, would admit to a past like that, or any sort of similarity to her.

“But,” Ruby stammered, blinking rapidly as sense returned to her, “you’re married to Rev. Fallon. People like and respect you.”

“I hope I don’t sound arrogant by saying yes they do,” Clara said with a smile. “But only because my past is a closed book that is thoroughly off-limits. Mr. Croydon made sure of that when I went to work for him, and Arthur has sworn he will take my secrets with him to the grave.”

“But…but….” Ruby shook her head.

“And there’s more,” Clara went on, saving her from having to find her voice. Clara’s smile faded, and she glanced down at her tea with a sudden look of sadness. “I had a baby too. I gave her up before coming over here. It was for the best. She has lovely parents now. She’s happy.”

Ruby sent a reflexive look to Faith, playing happily with the other children. She couldn’t imagine giving up her daughter. Not unless she was certain she was on the verge of death, or unless Faith’s life was in danger if she didn’t give her away.