Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Ruth had planned the picnic with the intent of spending more time with Edmund and his governess. She was torn, for she rather enjoyed Miss Beswick's company, but the niggling in the back of her mind proved there was something not quite right with the situation. Ruth was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Had she known it would turn so cold today, she might have suggested a dinner instead—something indoors, warm, near a roaring fire. Her hands were stiff from the chill, her fingers struggling to bend around the little sandwich she'd been trying to eat.

They had spent nearly an hour gathered on the blankets at the top of Dunder Hill, looking out over the countryside. Parts of Harewood were visible here, but most of the town could be seen from the other side of the hill. Locksley was a good distance away, the stone walls marking each farm's delineation lines clear from high above. Mist gathered over some of the taller hills, spreading down and covering farmhouses. Yesterday had been such a fine day. This weather was really a pity.

Ruth stood from the blanket, dusting the dirt from her skirt and stretching her tired back. Eliza and Miss Beswick had connected over a shared frustration with finding ways for young boys to stay focused on one topic for a good amount of time, and it was nice to see. Ruth could understand some of their grievances, but since she wasn't a mother herself, she just as soon walked away from Tom when he was frustrating her. Sisters had that small advantage.

"Shall we take a walk?" Ruth asked when no one looked up at her. Eliza agreed.

Miss Beswick looked to Ryland, who gave her a quick nod.

If Ruth had thought their relationship odd before, this outing only solidified the notion. The way her brother had been tying Miss Beswick's bonnet when they had arrived had flashed a warning in her stomach. Ryland had helped Ruth with her bonnets when they were younger, but the way he had been looking at Miss Beswick was in no way similar to the way he looked at Ruth. She almost wondered if there was something between them—but no. Ryland was better than that. He had more respect for his servants and women in general.

She grinned brightly at her friends. "Perhaps moving will warm us a little."

"I think a fire would warm us," Eliza said, drawing her arm through Ruth's. "At home. With our cozy blankets and hot tea."

Miss Beswick looked at her as though she wholeheartedly agreed but was too polite to say so. Not that Ruth minded. She agreed it was far too cold for this outing, but they were here now, so she would make it worth the misery and effort. Ominous clouds gathered in the distance, but they were still far away. It wasn't quite time to run in fear of rain.

Perhaps the wind would blow them the opposite direction and the foreboding weather would bypass Harewood entirely.

Ruth slid her free arm around Miss Beswick's and pulled her along. The men—Jacob Ridley, Ryland, Oliver, and Samuel—remained behind with the boys. Just a few more steps and they would be out of earshot.

"Is my brother a ghastly employer?"

Miss Beswick looked at her so quickly she nearly missed her footing. "No, of course not. Why do you say that?"

"Because he was a ghastly brother at times. I remember one distinct afternoon when he was home from Eton on holiday and absolutely refused to wear my bonnet so I might be able to style it easier."

"He was likely afraid of being poked with the needle," Eliza muttered.

"I wasn't sewing flowers. I was only trying to decide on placement."

Eliza shook her head, pulling her arm free to wrap around her waist. "You are being ridiculous. We both know how you and Lord Ryland dote on one another."

"True. He is the best brother."

Miss Beswick eyed her. "He does seem very attentive."

That was an interesting choice of words. "He is. But enough about me. I want to hear about your childhood. You came from London, I know, but where in London?"

"Berkeley Square."

Ruth nearly stopped walking. The wealth of the Beswick family must have been large to support such an address. "I attended a ball in one of those houses last year. They are beautiful."

"Our home was lovely," Miss Beswick agreed. "But now I have the opportunity to teach Edmund and to live in this beautiful house in the country. The clear air and lack of coal smoke are reason enough to want to remain here forever. I could not have dreamed of a more charming estate."

Ruth did not say what they were all likely thinking—that Miss Beswick's fall from status could not be worth the Hampshire view from Tilton. It was a lovely house, but she was not her own mistress any longer. "All the same, I cannot imagine it was easy to sacrifice your independence."

Miss Beswick shook her head. "I have more independence here than I did living with my parents in Mayfair."

"I can understand that," Eliza said.

Ruth stopped walking. " You gained marriage though, Lizzie. You have a house to manage and Jacob and the blacksmith business." Her gaze swung to Miss Beswick. "It is a different situation."

"Edmund requires much of my days," Miss Beswick said, "but Lord Ryland is fair and generous. I could have found myself in much worse circumstances had I not approached Mrs. Hoskins when I did. It was a matter of luck that I called on her looking for a position the very week your mother's letter arrived seeking a governess. I am grateful to be here."

Ruth brushed a lock of wayward hair from her brow. This wind was becoming devilishly annoying. "It sounds as though you were quite desperate."

"That is not an adequate word," she said on a breath. "I had no one else to turn to. The people I'd thought were my friends—the Society I had grown up with—did not offer assistance when I found myself in dire straits. I was alone, with no money and no family. It was fortune that Mrs. Hoskins had retired to London to live with her brother, and that I had her address."

Ruth went still. Was this the secret she'd been keeping? "Oh? Why did your parents leave you in such a situation?"

Eliza nudged her, likely warning her not to press their guest, but Ruth had a feeling this was important.

Miss Beswick smoothed her hands down her gown. "My parents had left nearly six months prior to live with my aunt in Ireland and avoid their creditors, but there was not room enough for me to accompany them. I remained in London as my brother's housekeeper."

"Brother?" Ruth asked, her eyebrows shooting high on her forehead. This was news, indeed. Did Ryland know she had a brother?

Miss Beswick hesitated. She pulled a leaf from the nearby tree and shredded a corner from it, watching the fraction float to the ground. "He was taken to prison and his house emptied by his creditors, leaving me with only the things I could carry in my arms. I am paying a barrister to fight for his freedom, but nothing has gone according to plan." She leveled Ruth with a look. "Your brother is one of the good men."

Ruth stared at her. The implication that Miss Beswick's brother was not one of the good men did not go unnoticed. She'd dropped the facade, not bothering to hide the frank way she looked at Miss Beswick. Had she admitted to being the sister of Ryland's Eton tormentor? It was so unexpected that Ruth had no immediate reply.

"What an awful feeling," Eliza said. "Will your parents remain in Ireland?"

"It is most likely." Miss Beswick smiled. "My father gambled away our money and they needed to retreat before the debtors took him, as they did our home and everything else we owned."

"To live through such an invasion twice in the same year is unfathomable." Eliza reached over and squeezed Miss Beswick's hand. "I hope your brother is recovered quickly."

"It is unclear if that is even possible now. He was carted away for stealing—though in all honesty, his house was combed and nothing discovered, so I believed he would be released. It came to my attention later that he was deeply in debt as well." She gave a small sigh and a little shake of her shoulders. "Needless to say, I will end up like Mrs. Hoskins and have many, many years of being a governess ahead of me. It is a good thing I adore Edmund."

"I believe the feeling is mutual," Ruth said, hoping she sounded natural while her mind still tried to wrap around the things she'd learned.

"There you all are," a male voice called from behind them.

Ruth stiffened. Samuel was forever trying to find ways to speak to her alone. She drew Miss Beswick close to her side as she turned to face the gentleman and gave an exaggerated shiver. "Oh my, it is cold. We really ought to be on our way home."

Samuel's face was flat. He could see through her—that much was obvious. "We imagined that might be the case." He gave a rueful smile. "I was sent to tell you the carriages are being loaded and the lads are ready."

What a blessed relief. "I am surprised at them. I thought they could withstand any temperature to spend time together."

Samuel grinned. "They have been begging Ryland to allow Tom and Peter to return with Edmund."

"Of course they have," Ruth said, starting down the hill toward the carriages.

"I can tend the boys," Miss Beswick said. "It would be no trouble at all."

"But you cannot fit them all on the curricle," Samuel said.

Eliza looked concerned. "Jacob might need Peter's help at home before?—"

"He's already granted permission," Samuel said.

They walked toward the men, where the boys were all waiting inside Ruth's carriage.

"Perfect," Ruth said. "I will drive them to Tilton, Miss Beswick, and we can continue our chat in a much warmer setting. Will you come, Lizzie?"

Eliza rolled her eyes. "You cannot invite me to your brother's house."

"But I did. He will not mind it."

"I do not mind," Ryland said, giving Ruth a look before smiling at the other women. "Of course you are welcome."

Eliza looked at her husband. "I had better return home."

They bade their farewells and loaded into their carriages. When Ruth was sitting in her small conveyance with the three boys excitedly making plans for the rest of their adventures that day—Edmund particularly wished to show the other two boys how well he could name different animal tracks—she looked out the window and watched Ryland help Miss Beswick onto the curricle's bench.

She dropped her gaze to the men on horseback just in time to see Oliver raise a hand in farewell to her. She returned the gesture and sat back in her seat, wondering if Ryland knew about Miss Beswick's brother. Ought she tell him? She needed to speak to Oliver about it again—alone. He would know best how to advise her.