Winterberry Spark: A Silver Foxes of Westminster Novella (The Silver Foxes of Westminster #2.5)(22)

“Come on, sweetheart,” she told Faith, hugging her close as she made her way to the cottage. “No one will begrudge us one hour alone, will they?”



Gil strode through the chilly streets of Lanhill, the parcel of valet applications he’d picked up from the post office after the confrontation in the hall under his arm. As cold as the wind that whipped around him was, a fire warmed him from the inside. Part indignation at the way Ruby was being treated and part newfound determination to support her instead of adding to her problems, it kept him heated under his thick winter coat, and gave him enough energy to run to London and back if he had to.

Something had to be done, that much was clear to him now. Even though the last vestiges of blame for James’s kidnapping that he’d laid at her doorstep had all but faded, he was beginning to see that it would be impossible for Ruby to stay on at Winterberry Park. It didn’t matter how kind the Croydons were or whether they’d forgiven her, as long as the rest of the staff treated her the way Mary and Martha Mull had, Ruby would be miserable until she found another situation.

Exactly what kind of situation that could be was what kept his heart hammering against his ribs, even when he was standing still. The packet of applications under his arm meant more than a new employee for Alex. It meant that Gil wouldn’t be needed wherever Alex was staying. It might mean that he could stay in London year-round, in a flat of his own rather than within calling distance of his employer. And if he had a flat of his own, marrying Ruby and setting up house with her could be a real possibility.

His thoughts spun faster and faster as he walked along the river path toward Winterberry Park. He would have kept walking without pause if the scent of smoke just outside Violetta’s old cottage hadn’t brought him up short. He stopped, frowning in confusion, and glanced toward the cottage’s chimney. A thin line of smoke curled up to the sky. It was a cloudy enough day for him to notice light in the main room’s windows.

Still frowning, Gil switched directions and went to investigate. When he reached the cottage’s front door, he stepped to the side, cupping his hands over the window and peering through the glass.

“Ruby,” he murmured, his brow shooting up, when he spotted her sitting on a chair near the fire. She rocked a sleeping Faith in her arms.

Ruby glanced up and caught sight of him looking at her through the window just as he backed away, so when he knocked on the cottage door and turned the handle, stepping into the cozy cottage, she was already halfway to her feet.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Gil said, closing the door behind him. He took a few tentative steps deeper into the cottage.

“I—” Ruby glanced to the cheery fire blazing away in the fireplace, then let out a breath and turned back to him. “I just needed to be alone for a moment,” she confessed.

“Oh. I’m sorry, I can leave.” Gil turned back to the door.

“No, please stay,” she said, taking a step closer to him. “I wouldn’t mind your company.”

Gil pivoted toward her again. “Are you sure? If you want to be alone….”

“You’re not the reason I needed a rest,” she said with a sigh.

“Did something else happen?” A rocky sense of dread filled Gil’s gut as she moved to the sofa and settled Faith against the pillows to nap. She covered the girl with the dusty blanket from the back of the sofa, then faced him.

Her shoulders dropped as though she carried the weight of the world on them. “You were there for the incident with Mary and Martha,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “But you didn’t see Ben and Tad run from me as though I carried the plague, or Robby acting as though I were still for hire.” Her voice dropped to barely a whisper.

Gil clenched his jaw, setting the pile of valet applications on the table beside the door and marching closer to her. “I’ll wring his scrawny neck. He has no business speaking to you or anyone like that.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t heard before,” Ruby said, lowering her head and brushing her hands across her apron. “At least I won’t have to put up with it much longer.” She glanced up at him with a weak smile.

“Ruby,” Gil stepped closer to her, reaching out to rest his hands on her arms. “Are you quite certain you want to go through the trouble of starting over in a new position somewhere else?”

She blinked at him, then shrugged. “I don’t see as how I have much choice. And after all the trouble the Croydons have gone through, I—”

“Marry me.” The question—if it could even be called a question—popped out of him before he could find the right words.

“What?” Ruby’s eyes went round, and her jaw slackened.

Gil winced at his clumsiness, but inched closer to her. “I’m asking you to marry me,” he said, then rushed on with, “I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, since this summer. And now seems like the ideal time. If Mr. Croydon allows it, I can stay in London all the time instead of constantly being at his beck and call. And you can stay with me. We could have a home of our own.”

“Oh.” Ruby blinked rapidly. He’d taken her completely by surprise, but he didn’t want to back down. “Oh,” she repeated, stepping away from him. She pressed a hand to her heart, her cheeks going pink, and paced along the length of the sofa, then back. “But you’re angry with me,” she said when she reached him again. “You blame me for Miss Goode.”