Winterberry Spark: A Silver Foxes of Westminster Novella (The Silver Foxes of Westminster #2.5)(16)

Ruby took in a breath, pressing her hand to her stomach. She looked deep within herself, asking the question she hadn’t dared to ask before. Could she forgive herself? Did she really hold herself completely at fault for James’s kidnapping? Was she truly an unforgivable fool for believing Miss Goode’s lies? Or had she been taken advantage of in horrible ways?

“I think I might be able to forgive myself in time,” she said at last, blowing out a breath. “James was recovered, and there was little lasting harm.” And he loved her. James loved her. He, more than anyone, had reason to hate her and shy away from her for the rest of his life, but he loved her still.

“I’m sure Gilbert will see the same thing,” Clara said, back to smiling as though everything were right with the world.

The fledgling hope in Ruby’s gut withered. Her shoulders sank. “I’m not so sure. I let him down so badly. He’s so disappointed in me.”

“Does he love you?”

Ruby gulped at Clara’s question, her already hot face flushing hotter. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

“If he loves you, he’ll be able to forgive you.” Clara paused. “Although you might have to slap him around a little to get him to see why he should.”

A sudden laugh burst from Ruby’s lips. She clapped a hand to her mouth in shock. She shouldn’t be laughing at something like that. Gil had every right to be disappointed in her. He had every reason to hate her.

But no. A new voice spoke up inside of her. If she was going to forgive herself, if it was true that she had been imposed upon and that she had been targeted because of her weaknesses, then it wasn’t fair for Gil to fault her for trusting the wrong person. At least not permanently. Yes, she’d done something wrong, but if he had any feelings for her at all, he would understand why she’d done what she had.

“There you go,” Clara said, smiling as she watched Ruby turning through her thoughts. “I think you see now that there’s hope after all, and that you’re not alone.”

“I’ve felt so alone,” she admitted with a rush of breath.

Clara took her hands. “Well, you’re not now. I should have gone looking for you the moment I found out about your past, the moment you arrived in Lanhill, really. We should have been friends from the start. But all these babies, you know,” she laughed.

Ruby squeezed Clara’s hands, her heart fluttering. “Will you be my friend?”

Clara smiled at her with more compassion than Ruby thought was possible. “Of course, ducky. I think it was always meant to be.”

Tears flowed from Ruby’s eyes once again, but this time they were tears of joy. Her heart hadn’t felt so light in…she didn’t think it had ever felt so light.

“I think I’d like another cup of tea,” she said, smiling and sniffling. With tea and friendship, she was certain she could make it through anything.





Chapter 5





Gil drew his collar up higher against the cold wind blowing through Lanhill as he headed home from the post office. He’d been distracted the entire time he sent the telegram to London, placing the advertisement for a new valet in the appropriate journals. It had caused him to be stand-offish with Mr. Brown, the postman, and several locals who’d tried to engage him in conversation, which wasn’t like him at all. But increasingly over the past few days, his mood had gone sour and his thoughts had coalesced into one obsession that pounded through him with every beat of his heart.

What was he going to do without Ruby?

Worse still, what was she going to do if she didn’t have the Croydon’s protection, his protection?

“Watch it, Gil,” Sam Jones, the butcher, cautioned Gil as he bumped into the man coming out of his shop, cleaver in hand.

“Sorry, Sam.” Gil mumbled a distracted apology.

“Here, I don’t blame ya for bein’ all down in the mouth,” Sam called after him instead of going about his business. “Not with that harlot in your midst.”

Gil instantly stopped, snapping back to the man with a deep scowl. “Sorry?”

“That whore,” Sam said with a look that hinted he thought Gil would agree with whatever he said. “Scandalous, it is, for someone of Mr. Croydon’s importance to have the wool pulled over his eyes like that.”

Gil took a few steps toward him. “Excuse me?” he demanded.

In spite of his mean-looking meat cleaver, Sam shied back, suddenly nervous. “I just thought…you know…and the fact that she would dare show her face at the school. My Alice is at that school. Young and impressionable, she is. Nancy told that harlot off good, though.” His voice faded to an uncertain mumble.

Without another word, Gil marched off. Instead of heading home, he turned his steps toward Tim Turnbridge’s school. The worry he’d been carrying around for days flashed to an anger more powerful than anything he was used to feeling. He balled his hands into fists as he walked, ready to wring the neck of anyone who disparaged Ruby.

But at the very back of his mind, an itch was forming. He hadn’t protected Ruby as much as he should have.

The rehearsal for the winter show that Tim had been planning—the man should have been a theatrical producer, not a teacher, the way he was always organizing his students into plays and concerts—was just ending as Gil walked into the school. The scene was chaos as usual, with the smaller children running amok while a few of the girls tried half-heartedly to keep them in line, and the older boys glared at anyone interrupting their frantic studying. Gil wasn’t interested in the children, though.