But she did not dare. Defiance was not in her nature.
19: Making A Choice
The duke and duchess were closeted away in an upstairs room for some time, but Lady Elizabeth stayed with Ruth and protected her from Pinnock’s doggedly determined attendance. There were great heaps of London journals in the Spinsters’ Parlour, so they browsed through those and discussed the fashions and read out interesting paragraphs. Ruth felt that she had made a friend or perhaps an older sister. Lady Elizabeth was the only one of the Litherholm sisters of whom she had previously no knowledge beyond hearsay. She was more than ten years Ruth’s senior and stayed away from London, so their paths had never crossed before. All Ruth knew of her was that she had had a rather scandalous past, with rumours of elopements and jiltings. Whatever the truth of it, she had never married and seemed unconcerned by that. She was not in the least starchy, exuding a relaxed and open confidence that Ruth very much envied. She tried herself to project a similar ease, but whereas her own manner was assumed and felt false, Elizabeth’s felt entirely genuine.
Eventually, Ruth was summoned to her parents. To her surprise, she found them smiling.
“We are agreed, daughter,” the duchess said, “that there will be no lasting damage to the family name by either Audlyn or Susan. Besides, all such considerations fade to nothing when compared with the glorious future we have arranged for you. We are to meet with Falconbury in an hour and your father will insist that he behaves honourably towards you. He will, I am certain of it, despite this — this creature that he has imposed upon our notice. After all, there has long been an understanding between you, there can be no denying it. Everyone knew of it, and the marriage was expected. He knows what is due to you.”
Yet she twisted her lips anxiously. Despite the confident words, she sounded uncertain. Would Ger agree to it, or would he choose to walk away from the match? And if he did, what would become of Ruth, deprived of both possible husbands at once?
They met in the Ante-Chamber, the duke and duchess, Ruth, Ran and Ger. The duke looked belligerent. The duchess looked worried. Ger looked oddly mischievous, but then his moods were never predictable. Ran — he was as inscrutable as ever, his expression serious. When he smiled, he could make Ruth’s heart somersault, but he seldom did so, and not at all lately. She thought again with yearning of those few days at Mallowfleet, when he had followed her everywhere, and there had been a glow in his eyes that had given her hope. But all that was gone. It had been merely a game to him, perhaps, or part of his gentlemanly code to flatter his future bride, and she was that no longer.
The duke began at once. He spoke of honour and obligation, of understandings and agreements. He told Ger exactly what he expected him to do, without prevarication. He strode back and forth across the rug in front of the hearth, occasionally stabbing the air to make a point. Ruth and her mother sat, straight-backed, on a sofa. Ger, who looked as if he were trying not to laugh, sat opposite them. Ran seemed half-detached from the proceedings, for he stood leaning against the wall across the room, arms folded across his chest, his eyes fixed with unblinking intensity on Ruth. She tried not to look at him, for the sight of him unnerved her.
As for Ruth, she was terrified. Nothing in her life had prepared her for the turmoil of mind in which she now found herself. Loving Ran as she did, yet she might leave that room betrothed to his brother, and she could not interpret her tangled feelings about that. She had thought her life was settled, that she would marry Ran and be a duchess, her life unfolding exactly as she had always expected, except for the tiny detail that her duke would be Ran and not Ger. But this… this was outside her realm of experience, and she quaked inside. How would it end? When she walked out of this room, her life would be irrevocably changed. She stood on the edge of the cliff, knowing she had to jump and without the strength or the will to turn and walk away. Her parents would push her over the edge, and she was powerless to resist. So she sat, her hands folded neatly in her lap, and waited for fate to engulf her.
“So there it is, Falconbury,” the duke said eventually. “You know what I want, and I expect you to keep to your word.”
Before Ger could speak, Ran shifted restlessly. “You have told us a great deal about what you want, Orrisdale. What about what Ruth wants?”
“She will do what I tell her,” he blustered. “It is not for her to make such momentous decisions by herself. Her parents are best placed to choose her husband.”
“She is of age,” Ran said. “She can marry where she pleases.”
“Not while she lives under my roof and expects a dowry from me,” the duke shot back. “Why are you interfering, Litherholm? What is it to do with you anyway?”
That raised the glimmer of a smile from Ran. “Your memory is failing you, Duke. Have you forgotten that I am betrothed to Ruth?”
“Nonsense! That ended the moment Falconbury was found. You did not think… how could you imagine… naturally that is all done with. Is it not obvious? My daughter marry a younger son? It is unthinkable! The betrothal is at an end.”
“Not so,” Ran said, his calm tone a striking contrast to the duke’s loud hectoring. “A betrothal is an agreement between two people, and only those two may end it. Since I am a gentleman and shall never do so, it is for the lady to put a stop to it… if she so wishes.”
“Brother…” Ger said, jumping to his feet, and crossing the room to stand beside Ran. “I thought—”
Ran waved him to silence. During the entire exchange, he had not for a moment taken his eyes off Ruth. She felt as if a great weight were pressing down on her. Must she speak? She could not!
“Tell him, daughter,” her father said abruptly. “Put an end to this nonsense once and for all, because I tell you here and now, if you marry a worthless younger son like Litherholm, you will be no daughter of mine. There will be no dowry, no parental blessing on your nuptials, no notice of you. You will never return to Mallowfleet, and none of the family will ever acknowledge you in public. Your own brothers and sisters will give you the cut direct. I will see to it, you have my word on that.”
“Then you would be very wrong!” Ger cried, but Ran laid a hand on his arm.
“Let Ruth speak,” he said quietly. “Let her say what she must.”
All eyes turned to Ruth.
“Speak, daughter,” her father said impatiently. “Tell him it is ended.”
There was no avoiding it. Her father expected it, and Ran, too, seemed resigned to it. He was right, of course, to want to hear his dismissal from her own lips, but oh, how she dreaded it! Yet it must be done, and done graciously.
She rose, crossing the room to stand before him. Ran, the man she loved, the man she wanted to spend her life with, the man who gazed at her impassively as she drew on all her courage to end their betrothal. And that, finally, gave her the spurt of anger she needed. How dared he let her go without a fight! How dared he simply accept his dismissal so passively! And her anger gave her, if not eloquence, at least the strength to say what had to be said.
“Ran, I am very honoured that you wished to marry me, but I find it impossible to be your wife. I am very sorry.”
For an instant his eyes flashed with some strong emotion, but he mastered himself almost at once. “I am sorry, too,” he said simply. Then he lifted her hand to his lips. Oh God, the touch of his lips on her bare hand! And this was not the gentlemanly pretend kiss without touching, but a shockingly warm pressure that lasted for several heartbeats. Or would have done, if her heart had not seemingly stopped beating altogether.
Then he released her hand, and for the first time his eyes left hers. “Your daughter is now free again, Duke,” he said. Did she imagine it or was there a slight tremor in his voice?
Her father moved closer to her. “There now, daughter, there now. Well done.” Taking her hand, still trembling from the feel of Ran’s lips upon it, he would have passed it directly to Ger, but Ruth whisked out of his grasp.
“You will not mind if
I sit down, Papa?” So saying, she moved directly back to the sofa to sit beside her mother.
The duchess patted her hand. So many people touching her… hemming her in… closing in around her… her breathing was heavy and ragged. She looked at Ran, but he was staring at his boots, as if he were bored. She turned her own gaze downwards. If only this could be over!
“Falconbury,” her father said. “Now it is your turn.”
And then Ger was there before her. She saw his Hessians, badly polished, and his pantaloons, not clinging enough for fashion. And then, because she would not, could not look up, she saw his face as he knelt before her. There was concern there, genuine concern, and she lifted her head a little to look him in the eye.
“Ruth,” he began, “your father wants me to offer for you, and I am very happy to do so. How could I not be, for who could possibly be a more perfect wife than you, so lovely and so accomplished as you are? So many young ladies are said to be accomplished, but you truly are. I would be very happy to have you for my wife, but I want you to understand that you have more than one choice. You can marry me, if that is your wish, and be the Duchess of Falconbury and mistress of Valmont and mother of my heirs, with all that entails. That would make me very proud and pleased. Or you could still marry Ran, if you prefer. You would—”
“Now wait a moment!” the duke said.
“Hush!” Ger said sharply. “You have made your speech, now it is my turn. You said so yourself.” Turning back to her, he went on, “Ruth, if you wish to marry Ran and your father withholds your dowry, then I shall myself settle on you the full amount that is your due. And since I have no wish to look elsewhere for a wife, I shall stay single, and you will therefore still be mistress of Valmont and raise the next duke, since Ran is my heir.”
“Ridiculous nonsense!” the duke cried. “Take no notice, daughter.”
“Silence!” Ger said. “I can also assure you that you will suffer no social disgrace by marrying Ran, I shall see to that. The Litherholm family does have some influence, I would suggest. Or there is yet another choice — you could marry neither of us. You could go back to town and look about you for a man who suits you better than either of us. You are free to do as you wish. This is the nineteenth century, after all, and no one is forced to marry any more. Your father may offer you his counsel, but the choice should be your own, Ruth. Your life is yours to live in whatever manner makes you happiest.”
She could hardly take it in. Her father was ranting about traitors and wickedness, but it was just a rumble of noise in the background. Her mother was screeching in her ear, but she could not make sense of that, either. Ger was still kneeling, looking up at her with such a gentle smile on his face and that calmed her a little.
But then her eyes fell on Ran and he looked so shocked that her breath caught. All his insouciance had fled now, and he was showing real emotion for the first time. He had not known what Ger would say, she could see, and now he was horrified at the prospect of being drawn back into an engagement that he had only just escaped. An engagement that was distasteful to him, that much was clear.
Could she marry him for her own selfish reasons, knowing that her love would never be returned, knowing that he had been manipulated into it? He would be unhappy, her parents would be angry, Ger would be left without a duchess and what of herself? She could hardly be happy if Ran were not. There could only be heartbreak in a marriage based on unrequited love. She shrank from the idea.
For all Ger’s fine words, her options were limited. She could not marry Ran, and she dreaded the prospect of walking out of Valmont unbetrothed. Could she… should she marry Ger? Her parents wished it… no, they depended on it, and with the rest of the family in turmoil, she was their brightest hope of a great match. They had always wanted her to be a duchess, not solely from ambition but because she had the temperament and, she hoped, the ability to bring honour to the position. And Ger himself liked her and they got on well. Even the mistress would not be a problem, it seemed. And she herself would be free at last, which was by no means the least of it.
There was a rightness to it, she decided. It was as they had agreed long ago, and Ger had been happy with the plan then and his softly smiling face suggested he was happy with it now. It would delight her parents, and that was no small consideration. For twenty years she had schooled herself into unquestioning obedience, and the prospect of displeasing them brought her to quivering terror. She could not defy them! To do what was expected and to obey was like prayer, it soothed her and made her happy. Ran had told her to listen to her heart and her heart told her to obey her parents.
She cleared her throat and gazed into Ger’s eyes.
“Thank you, Ger. I accept your most obliging offer.”
Her mother sighed gustily, and her father said, “Thank God! Now we can put all this unfortunate business behind us.”
Ger’s smile did not falter, but he said, “And this is your own choice, Ruth? Yours, not just your father’s?”
She dropped her gaze. “My choice, but I am content to follow my father’s counsel in such an important decision.”
“Then you have made me very happy,” Ger said.
She could not tell whether he meant it or not.
~~~~~
Ran slipped out of the room unnoticed and strode across the entrance hall, where the butler and a footman jumped to attention.
“Brent, tell the stables to have Thunderbolt ready for me in the yard in ten minutes,” he said without breaking stride. “Send Giggs up to me at once.”
“Very good, my lord,” he said to Ran’s retreating back.
Ran paused, frowned, spun round. “Also… I shall not be in for dinner. I shall dine at the Lorrimers’”
Did Brent’s eyebrows rise a fraction. “Yes, my lord.”
Ran resumed his progress to the stairs, and had set his foot upon the bottom step when Elizabeth materialised from behind a plinth bearing a Roman bust.
“Ran! What happened? Has she—? Oh Ran!” Her face changed abruptly. “Oh brother, I am so sorry! I had not realised you were so—”
“Not now, Lizzie. Just leave me alone.”
Without another word, he took the stairs two at a time, his long legs striding through the State Apartments and into the family wing. He reached his dressing room just as Giggs flew up the service stairs, panting for breath.
“Beg pardon, milord. I’ll have your riding outfit ready in no time.”
While Giggs, catching the urgency, frantically pulled garments from closets and drawers, Ran ripped clothing from his back, scattering items about the room. The valet hustled him into the new outfit and had him out of the door in record time. Even then it was not fast enough for Ran. He needed to be gone now!
Thunderbolt was just being led out as Ran arrived, almost at a run, in the stable yard. He vaulted straight into the saddle, and was in motion instantly, the beast reaching a gallop before the stables had been well left behind.
And then he was free, flying over the close-cropped turf, head low over his mount’s neck, the wind on his face, his muscles working and his mind, mercifully, too occupied to think any more. But he was not too occupied to feel, and all the roiling emotions of the last month rose up unchecked to drown him. He rode hard across the park, and through the Stony Field, but when he reached the edge of the woods he could go no further.
He pulled the horse to a halt and leapt from his back. Then, overwhelmed and desperately unhappy, he leaned his head against the nearest tree and wept.
20: Friends And Advice
By the time Ran returned to the house, it was obvious that the entire household was aware that he had been thrown over, that Ruth was to marry Ger and that he himself had stormed out in a tantrum. The grooms avoided his eyes, and Giggs helped him dress for the evening with such an oily solicitude that Ran wanted to throttle him.
The Lorrimers were more considerate. Max beguiled the ride to Harebell Cottage, taken at a far more sedate pace than Ran’s mad af
ternoon gallop, with all the trivial dealings in the offices that day. The rest of the family greeted Ran with their usual quiet pleasure, and the talk was all of local matters — a bull escaping, a scything mishap, an unexpected death, a new baby in the village. Ger was mentioned, for the return of the lost Duke of Falconbury could not pass unremarked, but the questions were easy ones — was he well? Would he take his seat this year? Would he go to London at all? Had he any plans to entertain? No one mentioned Ginny or Ruth.
Ran imagined that he was taking his share of the conversation, and perhaps at first he had done so, but gradually he grew quieter and quieter. Sometimes there would be an odd little silence, and he became guiltily aware that his mind had drifted away and someone had addressed a question to him, unheard. But then Max would answer for him, and gratefully Ran would drift off again. It was peaceful, being surrounded by such undemanding friends.
It was Ran himself who brought the difficult subjects into the open. At the end of dinner, when Alice rose to leave the gentlemen, Ran said, “Stay a moment, Alice. You have all been very kind, and undoubtedly you know this already but I must get used to talking about it. Ger is to marry Ruth.”
“Ah, we did know it, of course,” Alice said. “The servants know so everybody knows. Is Ger happy with it?”
“Who can say with Ger?” Ran said, too despondent to care what he said. “He says he is, and I know he likes Ruth well enough, but it is not Ger who worries me. He is capable of making up his own mind, but Ruth—! She has done exactly what I most hoped to prevent — she is marrying him because her father wishes it. She said as much.”
“She may also wish it herself, and makes a virtue of her own inclinations,” Alice suggested gently.
“Perhaps it is so, but—” He stopped, reluctant to expose his own selfish emotions, but then went on, “No, I will tell you this, no matter how much it hurts. Ger told Ruth that if she wanted to marry me, he would ensure she lost nothing by it. He would provide her dowry if her father would not, and he would not marry elsewhere so she would still be mistress of Valmont and mother to a future duke. She could accept either one of us, and there would be virtually nothing to choose between us. Yet she chose him. And that means either that she wants to be a duchess above any other consideration, which would be a dreadful thing for me to believe of her, or—”
The Duke (Silver Linings Mysteries Book 6) Page 20
