Chapter 23

Twenty-Three

R uth’s heart was pounding. She tried not to think about all that had occurred in the ballroom — especially the moment when she had come between the Duke of Richmond and Lady Cecelia. It was astounding how quickly the magical dream of an evening had devolved into a nightmare.

Stephen went inside to fetch their things and Ruth felt a moment of heartbreaking relief. Her own heartache had taken a backseat in the light of the Duchess’ outburst, but it had been replaced with an overwhelming sense of guilt.

I should not have left her alone. She thought of the time she had spent pining after Stephen — looking out towards the dance floor and watching him with that beautiful lady when she ought to have been focused on the Duchess. It was the reason she came, after all. You were her caretaker, not Stephen’s companion, she thought miserably.

The Duchess was shivering in her arms. Ruth looked over at Lord and Lady Richmond.

“My Lord,” she said quietly, “do you have a cloak? I know Lord Darnley is fetching hers, but he will not be back for some time.”

Lord Richmond removed his coat wordlessly and offered it to Ruth. His eyes were angry and cold.

Ruth put the garment around the old lady just as a grand carriage pulled up at the bottom of the stairs. Lord and Lady Richmond led the way and Ruth followed with the Duchess, who was now silent.

At the door to the carriage, Lord Richmond helped his wife in first and then offered a hand to Lady Cecelia, who turned and looked at Ruth with worry in her eyes.

“ I was the fool, wasn’t I?” she said softly.

Ruth shook her head. “You’re just tired,” she said. “It was my fault, not yours. You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” she went on .

“No time for talking,” Lord Richmond said coldly. “She needs to get home and rest.”

He handed the older woman gently into the carriage and then climbed in after her. Ruth moved to accompany her charge, but before she put her foot on the step, Lord Richmond shook his head and extended a hand to stop her.

“You’ve done quite enough tonight,” he said.

“I’m so sorry,” Ruth said. “I know that I ought to have been watching her. It was my mistake. But you must allow me to come with you. She is my responsibility.”

“She is my sister,” Lady Richmond said stiffly. “She is my responsibility.” She hesitated, her face pale and strained in the dim light. “You are right about one thing, however,” she said. “It is your mistake.”

Lord Richmond reached forward and closed the door of the carriage, pulling away with a jerk of the horses and harness. Ruth stood frozen in the courtyard as they drove away, her arms hanging limply at her sides.

It began to rain. She knew she ought to move. She ought to make plans for the rest of the evening or find a coach back to March Manor, but she was standing outside the ballroom with no cloak, no money, and no knowledge of how the evening had deteriorated so quickly. She felt the rain almost as a gift and closed her eyes for a moment, hot tears mingling with the cool water on her cheeks. Maybe it will wash this whole night away , she thought miserably.

“Ruth.”

She turned, surprised to see Stephen standing a few steps away. He had his overcoat on and the rain was gathering on the brim of his hat.

“Did they go already?” he asked in confusion. Then, looking at her bare arms, “You ought not to be out in the rain. Did they leave you in this?” He came over to her, taking her cloak from the bundle of belongings in his arms and draping it around her shoulders. He looked behind him, frustration etching his brow. “The carriage isn’t here yet.”

He was angry. Ruth understood it, but she could hardly bare to see it. He knows I should have been watching Lady Cecelia. He knows it is my fault.

“I will find a ride back to March Manor,” she managed to say through chilled lips. “I may need to borrow some coin from you for the journey—”

“Come with me,” he said, catching her gently under her elbow and pulling her along the cobbled walkway towards the nearby livery.

She picked up her skirts and hurried along beside, thankful for someone to follow in the haze of confusion she was swimming through. To her surprise, they walked directly into the stables, Stephen leading the way with long strides. Two grooms leapt up off their chairs at the sight of him.

“My Lord,” the older said, bowing deeply. “What is the matter? Can we help you?”

“I sent word to have the Darnley carriage brought ‘round but it has yet to appear,” he said, casting his eye towards the back of the stables and settling on his carriage there. “I see the horses are still in harness.”

“We had not expected you so early in the evening.” The other groom said, hurrying over towards the carriage. “We will have them ready in a moment.”

“I will help,” Stephen said, leaving Ruth dripping and cold in the door to the livery and striding over towards the carriage.

She watched him set the traces and inspect the animals, then saw the coachman appear from the back room of the livery. The two men exchanged brief words and then Stephen walked back over to her while they brought the carriage around to the front. His face was set and angry.

“We are ready now,” he said simply.

When they carriage was set, he opened the door and turned to hand her inside. She hesitated, confused.

“Are you not going to your parents’ house?” she said. “You ought to go, my Lord. They have Lady Cecelia there and she will be quite confused. It will help her considerably if there is someone there with whom she has grown familiar.”

“She will have two people she knows,” he said. “You and I both.”

She shook her head. “They did not want me to accompany them.”

“And so they left you standing in the rain outside the ballroom after a trying evening,” he said sharply. “Yes, I’m aware. You are coming with me.”

He half-handed, half-lifted her into the carriage. His touch was warm and gentle. Ruth settled against the back seat. Stephen climbed in as well, but instead of sitting across from her as she expected he turned and sat beside her, stretching the other cloak over her legs and taking her hand in his.

The carriage lurched forward, and she looked at him in confusion. He looked down at her, the anger in his eyes fading to concern.

“You’re very cold,” he said. “You ought to have had your cloak when we left.”

“There was no time,” she said softly. Then, miserably, she added, “I’m so sorry, my Lord.”

His face tightened. “Why are you apologizing, Ruth?” he asked.

She realized what she should have earlier — since the travesty in the ballroom he had only called her by her Christian name. No “Miss Selwyn.” Just “Ruth.”

“I was wrong to leave her,” she said. “I went to get refreshment for us both and was caught up in a conversation.” She looked up at him, remembering the way she’d watched him dancing around the floor; the way her attention had been occupied by thoughts of him and the other lady. “I was distracted,” she finished lamely.

He shook his head. She could feel his hand tighten on her own.

“This was not your fault,” he said firmly. “There are a good many people to blame for what happened tonight, but you are not the only one, or even the principal offender.” He turned and looked out the window, his eyes following the path the carriage was taking through the city. “Perhaps it was too much too soon.”

He released her hand suddenly, as though he had just realized he was holding it, and looked back at her with a pained expression on his face.

“I am sorry, Ruth,” he said.

“For what?” she asked, her heart pounding in her chest.

He searched for words, but seemed to find none. Instead, he simply turned back towards the window. They rode alongside one another in silence. Ruth knew she had no right to be comforted by his nearness, but she was nonetheless. She leaned her head back and waited for the carriage to come to a stop .

It did far sooner than she expected. The rain was still coming down hard outside.

The coachman opened the door and Stephen climbed out quickly, handing Ruth out after him. It was mere seconds to run together up the marble steps of the London townhouse to the door, but in even that short amount of time Ruth found herself soaked again. She stood just inside the door, her hair hanging wet and dripping around her shoulders.

The lights were low in the hall — clearly the staff had already turned in for the night — but the butler was there in a moment, showing them into the parlor beyond.

There was a fresh fire laid in the hearth, and Lord and Lady Richmond stood by the fireside, still wearing their cloaks, their faces drawn in frustration.

“Where is my aunt?” Stephen asked abruptly as soon as he walked into the room.

Ruth winced. She wondered at the wisdom of beginning the conversation on a note of confrontation — emphasizing “my aunt” instead of “your sister.” Still, she could remember the way she’d felt as that carriage door closed in her face, and she wondered if Stephen was responding out of the same fear and guilt that she carried.

“Cecelia is upstairs,” Lady Richmond said coldly. “The maid took her upstairs and is preparing her for bed.”

“I should go to her,” Ruth said, moving to go.

“Miss Selwyn, will you please stay here a moment,” Lord Richmond said. His voice was deep and he had a tone that was not to be trifled with. “This pertains to your future employment.”

Ruth felt a lurch of nausea. They would fire me over this?

“Her employment?” Stephen said, his voice hardening. “What are you saying, Father?”

“Please, have a seat,” Lady Richmond began, almost nervously.

“We can stand, Mother,” Stephen said. “If there is something serious Father wishes to discuss, then I would rather he just say it. There is no need for pleasantries, not after what has happened tonight.”

“You are more right than you know,” Lord Richmond said, coming a step forward. The firelight lit his face from beneath, hardening the lines around his forehead and deepening his glare. “We are tired of watching as you systematically ruin your life. You think you are doing a kind thing, helping your aunt as you have been, but the truth is that you are using her as a shield to keep you from your rightful duties as my future heir.”

“How can you even say that?” Stephen began.

His father cut him off, continuing in a more heated tone. “If you were looking at the situation with the proper perspective you would know that your place is here by my side. You should be learning all you can about the business, and more than anything you should be looking for a proper wife.” He cast a momentary glance at Ruth, and then looked back at Stephen. “You should not be engaging in friendships with people who are below your station. It will make the matter of marriage and romance more difficult in the future.”

He’s talking about me, Ruth thought miserably. He fears Stephen will make some mistake with me and, when the dust clears, his name will be sullied.

Stephen, however, ignored his father’s insinuation. “You speak about my aunt as if she was only a problem to be solved,” he said. He turned to his mother, and Ruth’s heart was melted by the pleading in his eyes. “You saw her tonight, Mother. She loves you and misses you. She regrets staying out of your life for so long. She needs you.”

“She has always been quite independent,” Lady Richmond said quietly, looking down at her hands. “She will be alright without me. She has been without me for a long time.”

“That’s just what I’m saying,” Stephen protested. “Just because she has a history of staying away does not mean she should continue in that vein. You must fight for what you love.”

Ruth’s heart seized at the words. You must fight for what you love. She wondered what Stephen would fight for.

“She is sick,” Lady Richmond said quietly. “I knew she was ill before, but I did not know the extent. You did not share, in your letters, Stephen. You should never have brought her to the ball if you knew public outbursts like that were possible. I can see now that she has descended too far into her madness.”

“The doctor thought it would do her good,” Stephen said quietly. "I don’t know what set her off in the end, but surely it was simply a matter of too much too soon.”

For the first time since the drama on the ballroom floor, Ruth thought about what Lady Cecelia had actually been saying. She’d been pointing to Stephen and accusing him of something: yes, that was it. She’d been accusing him of dancing with the wrong woman. She felt a shock of revelation and wondered if the Duchess had been defending Ruth in some way. She was glad of the dim light to hide the consternation on her face.

Lady Richmond was shaking her head. “It is not as simple as that,” she said. “She needs help.”

“She has Ruth,” Stephen said. He put a hand to his head and said quickly, “I mean, Miss Selwyn.”

Ruth saw Lord Richmond’s eyes narrow. He looked over in her direction, and she wondered if the blunder made him suspect something more between herself and Stephen.

“Clearly Miss Selwyn is not as capable of controlling your aunt as you thought, Stephen,” he said. “She was there in the ballroom the entire time and the unfortunate events still occurred. It is clear that whatever headway you thought you were making was a farce. Your mother and I have discussed the matter, and we feel it is time for us to take over.”

Stephen threw up his hands in exasperation. “I have been asking you both to get involved in her well-being for some time,” he said. “I would be happy to tell you everything I know, if you will agree to come alongside her, as I have, and aid in her healing.”

“This is beyond you,” Lady Richmond said. Ruth saw tears in her eyes. “I saw tonight that her madness is beyond what even we could do. She should be cared for by people who can make her feel safe and keep her out of the public eye. She should not be agitated.”

Ruth’s heart sank. “What do you mean, ‘out of the public eye?’” she ventured quietly .

The room stilled. For a moment, no one spoke. All this discussion of Ruth and Lady Cecelia, and Ruth had not interjected a word. She held her ground, her mouth dry with nerves. Lord Richmond turned slowly towards her.

“Do not think I have forgotten, Miss Selwyn, how you interjected yourself into a family matter in the ballroom.” He was, of course, talking about her interruption when he attempted to escort Lady Cecelia out. He went on, his voice low but angry. “I see that you are choosing to voice your opinion here as well.”

“Father,” Stephen began, but before he could continue Ruth spoke up.

“Lord Darnley, I am quite capable,” she said as gently as she could. She turned to Lord Richmond. “Sir, I asked to be permitted to go up to Lady Cecelia’s chambers and help her. It was you who asked that I stay. I have remained quiet to hear your thoughts on the matter, and have only interjected now because I feel the need to advocate on behalf of my charge.”

“Your ‘charge’?” Lady Richmond put a kerchief to her eyes and dabbed at the tears forming there. “She is not a child.”

Stephen shook his head. “And yet you are both treating her like one. Either she is too simple to be allowed to make her own decisions, or not simple enough to be treated like a child. Which is it?”

“This is nonsense,” Lord Richmond said curtly. “No more word games. I have indulged you both long enough. I am the Duke in this room, and it is on my head that all this will fall when it goes awry. I shall make the decision.” He turned and looked at Lady Richmond, and Ruth saw a note of tenderness enter his eyes. “I and your mother, of course.” He looked back at Stephen. “We are going to send your aunt to a convent as soon as can be arranged. She may travel back to March Manor with Miss Selwyn to collect her necessary things and wrap up affairs at home, and then she will depart for the convent under our supervision. The lady’s maid will of course be dismissed.”

Ruth felt as though she had been dealt a blow, and yet she was frozen in place, unable to move or speak. That is the worst possible situation, her mind screamed. She will be isolated again, and far from home.

Stephen shook his head fiercely. “This is wrong,” he said. “You cannot do this to her. I will not allow it.”

Lord Richmond’s face, so iron in the flickering firelight, softened somewhat. He came forward and put a hand on Stephen’s shoulder.

“Son, it is not for you to allow or not allow. I am the closest male relative to Cecelia, and it is for me to make the decision.” He pursed his lips. “Do not think that I do it lightly. I only want the best for her, just as I want the best for you.”

Stephen’s jaw worked in anger and frustration. “And just as you have misjudged what is best for me, you have misjudged what is best for her.”

“Miss Selwyn.” Lord Richmond looked up at Ruth, his tone clipped and professional. “I believe you have stayed long enough. You are now aware of what is required of you — to accompany the Duchess back to March Manor and, once she is prepared for the convent, to go on your own way.” He cleared his throat. “You will of course be given a good reference. I see no further need for you to stay in this conversation. What remains is, as you can imagine, a family matter.”

“My Lord,” Ruth began desperately, feeling she had to say something ; she had to try somehow to stand up for what Lady Cecelia would want. “Please—”

“That is quite enough,” Lord Richmond said. “I truly do not mean to be rude, but it has been a trying night for us all and I do not think arguing with you here will make matters better. I would like to speak with my wife and son alone.”

Ruth looked at Stephen. He looked at his feet. Everything about his stance had taken on a look of desperation. She felt it herself, just looking at him. He was giving up, and in so doing she felt he was giving up on her as well.

She cleared her throat and stepped back with a little bow that felt manufactured and stale in the pent up emotions of the little room.

“Then I will take my leave,” she said, trying to fight back the tears.

“I have a room prepared for you on the third floor,” Lady Richmond offered, almost kindly. “I told the maid to make up the bed.”

Ruth nodded wordlessly and took her leave. She felt the tears welling up in her throat as she ran upstairs, but she fought them back. She didn’t want to cry here, not in the Richmond house with the Richmond portraits and the Richmond snobbery. She made it into her chambers, closed the door, and leaned against it wearily.

Maybe tomorrow would be different. Maybe Stephen would have some headway by himself in the parlor downstairs, arguing for his aunt’s future.