The Honorable Choice (Victorian Love Book 2)

by M. A. Nichols

  “But Papa always said—”

  Conrad held up a hand, and Ruby fell silent. And then he cursed his own ridiculous behavior for having just told her he did not want a wife who only obeyed and then hushing her when she spoke. But Conrad had no interest in hearing what her Papa said. He knew enough of the man to suspect his wisdom wasn’t worth a farthing.

  “Is every woman you know of the same mind as you? Do you all hold the same ideals? Enjoy the same hobbies and pastimes?” he asked.

  Ruby gave a slow shake of her head.

  “It is the same with men. There is no society so homogenous that there is no difference in temperament or opinion. While some—even a majority—may prefer a subservient wife, not all men feel the same way,” he said, and there was a subtle shift in her expression. The tension in her muscles eased, and her eyes held his in a steady gaze. There was a hint of hope there, though she did not relax entirely.

  “Nor would every woman welcome such an arrangement. I can only imagine what my mother would do if my father demanded her silence. Or my aunts,” he said, casting his thoughts to the many women of his acquaintance. “Or, for that matter, there are many women in the mill who would brain their husbands with a skillet before they ever agreed to sit meekly at his feet. Yes, there are many who would accept such an arrangement, but not every woman is the same. And neither is every marriage.”

  Conrad knew better than to believe Ruby would change so fundamentally all at once and embrace the truths he was speaking, but it was enough for him to say it aloud. He knew a majority of marriages mirrored Mr. and Mrs. Jeffries’, but he knew plenty of others that eschewed it.

  “Now, what do you want for this marriage? Do you wish for things to continue on as they have?” Only when he posed the question did Conrad realize how important it was, and how much her response mattered to both of them. A shiver settled into his chest, and his breath paused, waiting for her answer.

  Chapter 11

  Conrad suspected Ruby did not know her own mind on the matter quite yet, but if she held even an interest in creating something better than what they had at present, that was a victory to celebrate.

  Ruby stared at her hands with her head bowed. As much as he wished to look into her eyes and see some hint of the thoughts playing through her mind, Conrad understood the impulse to hide. This answer meant much to both of them and to their future family.

  “I do not wish to be a burden.”

  The words were barely above a whisper, but despite the deafening noise of the mill, Conrad heard them and felt a lead weight drop into his stomach. He opened his mouth to speak, though he did not know what to say. In such moments, it seemed like the kind thing would be to deny her words and assure her she was not now nor had she ever been a burden.

  “You needn’t ply me with false reassurances,” said Ruby, her hands twisting in her lap. “I know I have been difficult.”

  “And I have been plenty difficult myself. Neither of us has had an easy time of this.”

  Ruby still did not meet his gaze and sat there, shaking her head at her lap. “But you have sacrificed so much. You’ve been made to pay the price for your brother’s behavior, and you did so willingly. If ever someone deserved to be difficult, it would be you.”

  Hearing her speak such words filled Conrad with a lightness, as though simply having her admit it aloud lifted a bit of the burden he’d borne. But it returned in full force when she added in a quiet whisper, “I have no excuse for such behavior.”

  Conrad watched her with a furrowed brow. Ruby’s shoulders drooped as they so often did when she was overwhelmed. It was the opposite of the proud and strong posture she’d employed when facing down Lucas’s lies, and it made Conrad wonder what had happened to that admirable lady. But that was not the most pressing matter.

  “You think you have no excuse for being upset and difficult? For being disappointed that your future was decided by circumstances and not choice? And devastated because of my brother’s deception? You are as much a victim of Lucas’s actions as I.” But he paused, as his mind sped through a list of his brother’s atrocities. “More so. What he did to you was sickening and inexcusable.”

  “I should’ve known better,” she murmured. “If I hadn’t been so foolish and impulsive, none of this would have happened. My behavior was wrong, and I do not deserve your sympathy.”

  That was perhaps the most ridiculous thing Ruby had ever uttered. Not that Conrad knew his wife in great detail, but her words made it sound as though she laid all the blame on her own shoulders, which was ludicrous. Perhaps she ought to have known better than to believe Lucas’s lies, but Conrad had seen him charm women who were wise to the ways of fickle men. His own parents had been made to feel the sting of Lucas’s betrayals time and time again, yet still, they were taken in by his deceptions.

  As much as Conrad wished to correct her, there was something in her posture that begged him to leave it be. There was such a fragile quality to Ruby, as though a stiff breeze would shatter her, yet Conrad had seen her fortitude. Not in great detail, but he’d seen hints of it. Even now, he was witnessing a portion of it, for though betrayed and at the mercy of others, she sat here with a peace offering and an offer to begin anew.

  The pair fell silent, and the room continued to thrum and hum with the sound of the looms and spinners. In some small way, the weight that had been pressing down on him since his marriage eased. If nothing else, Conrad knew the pair of them had time to come to a better understanding, and it was not necessary or wise to force it all at once. It was enough to start slowly.

  Ruby made a move to stand, but Conrad stopped her. “We have food and dishes enough for two. Will you not stay? Mrs. Seymour undoubtedly intended as much.”

  The cook could be as interfering as a mother hen when she put her mind to it, and Conrad knew better than to let the opportunity pass.

  Raising her head, Ruby gave a wary look at the feast as though she was afraid it might leap up and bite her. Conrad stifled the spike of irritation that picked at his sanity. It was simply a meal, yet she found fault with it as well? Taking a breath, he shoved aside that reaction and focused on something useful.

  “We need to have an agreement, Ruby.”

  Her brows drew together as her eyes slowly turned to him.

  “If there is to be any hope of building a proper marriage here, we must agree to have at least one meaningful conversation a day,” he said. It wasn’t much of a step, but it was something small and attainable.

  “You wish to speak to me?”

  Conrad did not understand why the question mark was so pronounced at the end of her sentence, but there was no mistaking its presence. “Speak with you, yes. We cannot hope to better our acquaintance if we continue on as we have.”

  “Now?” she asked, her eyes turning back to the food. “But our digestion.”

  The muscles in Conrad’s jaw ticked, his teeth snapping together as he forced a pleasant smile on his face. Luckily, a flash of something akin to brilliance struck him, and his smile softened. “This is practically a picnic, and you cannot have a picnic without stimulating conversation, can you?”

  Ruby bit down on her lip, her brows furrowing further as she pressed a hand to her stomach. “I suppose. If you insist.”

  Conrad detested the manner in which she spoke, but as she’d agreed, he would not complain, either. Ruby reached forward and arranged a selection of food on a dish for him, and Conrad took it willingly and waited for her to do the same. Taking a bite of cold ham, Ruby stared at her plate, casting the occasional glance in his direction. Conrad picked at his pork pie, his appetite abandoning him as he struggled for something to say.

  “How is your family?” he asked.

  Ruby’s shoulders rounded, and Conrad struggled to hear her response. “My nephew fell ill shortly after we left Derbyshire, and my mother and sister are likely preoccupied with nursing him back to health.”

  It was a silly realization, but Conrad had never though
t to ask if she had any siblings. Most people had some family beyond their mother and father, but he’d never heard Ruby speak of them. But then, he’d never thought to ask her either.

  “You have a sister?”

  “Two,” she replied, a smile softening the harsh pull of her features. “The eldest, Belinda, married a gentleman from the neighborhood, and the pair are settled in Chesterton with their four children. Then the youngest, Regina, married two years ago and settled in her husband’s family seat in Sussex. She is an abysmal correspondent, so I do not hear much from her, though I gather she is content.”

  There were times when conversation came easily and topics came readily to mind with little effort, and it bothered Conrad how difficult it was to nurse this one along. But with coaxing, Ruby began to talk. Much of it was little nothings, the type of polite and rigid topics that dominated the beginnings of an acquaintance, but Conrad was grateful for anything.

  Little by little, Ruby’s posture straightened, and though she never ate with any gusto, she continued to pick at her plate as the conversation gained momentum and took on a life of its own, traveling from her family to his and on to the weather and the little details of their day before leading to the issues plaguing the mill.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  Biting down on her lip, Ruby shook her head. “It is nothing.”

  “It is not nothing,” he replied with narrowed eyes. “You have a pinched look about you as though there is something you wish to say but will not. There are opinions enough in my family, and I would like to hear yours.”

  “Truly, it is nothing,” she insisted, her eyes lowering to her plate for the first time in three-quarters of an hour.

  “Ruby,” he said, his tone brooking no refusal, “Please tell me what it is you are thinking. I wish to know it. The greatest solutions often come from differing opinions.”

  In truth, he needed to know it. Not because he expected her thoughts to contain any brilliance or significance, but their marriage could never survive if she remained silent.

  “This is not the first time I have heard of the struggles in the mill; you and your father speak of it, and your mother has mentioned it a time or two. And it is admirable that your family wishes to be prudent.” She quieted for a moment while nibbling on her lip, and though Conrad longed to urge her to speak, her mind was clearly churning behind the silence.

  Patience was a better course of action.

  “It makes me think of a friend of my father who owned a factory,” she said. Ruby picked at the food, shredding a slice of bread as her eyes drifted away from Conrad. “We dined together many times, and it seemed as though he always bemoaned the masters’ hardships, which upset Mama. He was a miser of the worst sort with funds enough to care for his family, yet he squeezed every cent he could from his workers—all while complaining it was never enough. I always found myself wondering if he would ever be content with what he had.”

  Conrad abandoned his plate on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms. His muscles tensed as she spoke, his mind racing ahead of her meandering words to guess at her meaning.

  Ruby turned her brown eyes to Conrad and shrank once more, her face turned to her lap. “I did not mean to offend.”

  Growling at himself, Conrad forced his posture to soften. Guilt and irritation warred one with the other, making his stomach twist. Yet again, he’d asked Ruby’s opinion, and then grown irritated when she had voiced it. Not that he’d intended to do so. His was a natural response to being compared to a miser and should not have elicited such a reaction from her. Yet again, he felt like a cad.

  Conrad had discovered Ruby was a tender soul, but now, he realized what that meant for him. Forever watching every word he spoke. Even the simplest misunderstandings being met with stony silence. That was not a happy prospect.

  Though he supposed Ruby could not help her instincts any more than he.

  “I apologize, Ruby.” The words came easily enough, for Conrad meant them. He hadn’t meant to silence her, and for that, he was sorry. But he struggled to know what to say next. “I didn’t mean to upset you, and I would like to hear the rest of what you were going to say.”

  Glancing at him from under her lashes, Ruby looked more like a child afraid of a reprimand from her father than a grown lady speaking with her husband.

  “Please, Ruby. I was being honest when I said I want to know your opinion. Whether or not I like it is immaterial. I still wish to hear it.” Perhaps that was not the best thing to say at the moment, but Conrad needed to assure her that he wanted to hear such things—now and in the future.

  Ruby straightened, but she would not meet his gaze when she continued. “You and your father are debating the need to raise wages because you wish to be cautious. That is good. If something were to happen and your mill closed because of reckless spending, then your workers would suffer greatly. But I think an important question you have yet to consider is, when will it be enough? When will your profits rebound enough for you to feel comfortable with raising wages?”

  Biting down on her lip once more, she paused before adding, “I don’t know what you should do, but I think it is important to ask yourself if you will ever feel comfortable taking the risk. Is it fear or prudence holding you in place?”

  Conrad leaned back in his chair, staring at the woman before him. Others had expounded at length about this very topic, laying out every feasible strength and weakness of each, but none of them had given as much clarity as this succinct response.

  Was it fear or prudence? A shiver ran down his spine, and though Conrad was not ready to declare which sentiment swayed his thinking, he was a fool not to recognize that a hefty dose of terror colored his judgment.

  “My thanks, Ruby,” he said as he stared at the timid creature. “I do not have an answer for you, but you have given me much to think about. And quite possibly the best advice I’ve heard in many an age.”

  Her wide eyes darted to his, her mouth giving a tremulous smile. “Truly?”

  Conrad didn’t know whether to be pleased or disturbed that it mattered to her so greatly, but feeling the need to reassure her, he gave her a warm smile. It was not as enchanting as his father’s and brothers’, but it seemed to do the job well enough, for Ruby straightened once more.

  Taking up his plate, he slid her a side-glance. “I understand you enjoy poetry. Have you ever read Longfellow?”

  Chapter 12

  Ruby had never thought herself a nervous, fretful creature, but from the moment Lucas forced his way into her life, there’d been an anxious twist to her stomach. In the beginning, it had been accompanied by a pleasant flutter of her heart that dulled the fear of her parents discovering their trysts. But not anymore.

  Standing on the Ashbrooks’ front step, Ruby wondered if she would ever feel at ease again. With her parents, she had never doubted her standing in their eyes. For good or ill, they were clear about their feelings towards her and left little question concerning their expectations. But the Ashbrooks were an enigma, as foreign and unfamiliar as any people that lived in the Far East with customs and cultures that left Ruby feeling adrift.

  How did one navigate such waters?

  This was an old argument; one she’d waged for countless hours since marrying into their family. And rather than bringing her any guidance or peace, the confusion had only intensified with the present shift between herself and her husband.

  Conrad wished for her to assist him in whatever manner she could. Ruby did not doubt he meant it, though she could not understand why it mattered so very much; Papa never looked to Mama for guidance, yet Conrad asked her opinions on things beyond her ability to understand. Ruby’s chest felt tight, her heartbeat coming in erratic bursts at the thought of it. She had little advice to offer, and that which she did may prove to be disastrous, yet still he spent their luncheons asking her about everything from the mundane to the exceptional.

  But even as her heart threatened to give out on her, a warm glow�
�like that which she felt when placing the last stitch in a particularly difficult piece of embroidery—settled inside her.

  Straightening her shoulders, Ruby lifted her head and rapped her knuckles on the front door. She had no notion as to what lay behind it, but she needed to ask. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Conrad,” said the butler, taking her bonnet and gloves. “Mrs. Ashbrook is in the study.”

  Ruby stiffened, her mind seizing on the implication steeped in that statement. Jensen made no move to lead her to the proper place nor ascertain if his mistress was at home. More than that, he kept glancing at her from the corner of his eye while he folded her shawl, as though he thought her the oddity between the pair of them.

  Even among family, Mama and Papa would never stand for such sloppy manners, but Mrs. Ashbrook had no qualms with showing herself in when calling on Ruby. Strictly speaking, most did not hold to such rigid ceremony, but abandoning her manners here and now felt as awkward as putting the wrong foot in the wrong shoe.

  Stepping down the hall, Ruby took the stairs to the second landing. A window overlooking a small swath of color had her pausing on the top stair. Though the flowers had begun their winter slumbers, the leaves were a vibrant yellow and the grass was still a glorious green. Ruby was grateful for her home in Newland Place, but she longed for a few moments in a patch of grass surrounded by flowers and crisp air with the thrum of insects, not machines, filling the air around her. And the delicate trill of birdsong. Newland Place was a fine situation, but Ruby envied her mother-in-law for having a garden of her own.

  Shaking herself free of such distracting thoughts, Ruby continued on her way, arriving at the study door. And paused.

  Conrad wanted her to express her opinion. He desired her assistance. But that did not mean he wished for her to interfere so much. In the abstract, he welcomed her help, but the reality may cause friction. That grim cloud clinging to him had lifted, leaving him more at ease of late. It was far from the sunny joy she wished to see in her husband, but Ruby was loath to risk the peace and set things back apace.