by Heather Boyd
Hector noted Vyne did not mention Ruby had a son upstairs.
“A pleasure to meet you, sir,” Ruby murmured, dipping the man a curtsy.
“The pleasure is all mine, I assure you,” Blackwood promised.
“Do join us,” Lord Vyne said. “You too, Stockwick. Sit yourself down over there.”
Ruby perched at her uncle’s side by the fire, and Hector was relegated to a seat slightly farther away. Lord Vyne spared him just one glance and then directed all of his attention upon Blackwood and Ruby.
Hector didn’t mind the cold shoulder. It gave him time to observe the excruciating politeness on display in front of him. Vyne was intent on ingratiating himself with Blackwood. It could only mean the earl owed Blackwood money, and it probably wasn’t a trifling amount, either.
Vyne turned to Ruby. “Blackwood has been telling me he’s taken possession of an estate not far from here,” he told Ruby.
“Longlean,” Blackwood murmured.
“A thousand acres of fertile soil and a grand manor to live in,” Vyne claimed in tones of wonder and not a little envy.
Blackwood’s lips twitched. “Not as grand as The Vynes yet, perhaps, but I do hope that one day people will think so. I intend to restore the estate and make my home there with my family.”
“Yes, you have a sister, I believe.” Hector sat forward, keen to end the suspense. Blackwood’s expression didn’t even flicker. “Restoring an estate in decline is a time-consuming and costly enterprise.”
“Life has been good to me,” Blackwood promised Hector but soon looked back at Ruby.
“What does your sister think of the place?” Ruby asked him.
Blackwood’s jaw clenched momentarily. “My family are excited about the move, and my sister will particularly benefit from experiencing the slower pace of country life.”
Hector quickly read between the lines. Blackwood would brook no opposition from his sister about the move, not if the woman wanted to enjoy his support in the coming years. Everyone whispered Molly Blackwood was well on her way to becoming as notorious as her brother. Blackwood was likely removing her from London to protect what remained of her reputation.
Hector wished the man all the luck in the world. He had tried to wrangle his sister Meg, for a different reason, in the same high-handed fashion when he’d brought Meg to The Vynes last year. A change of scenery had done Meg’s glum mood the world of good.
“I’m sure they will love living there once they see the place,” Ruby promised.
“Yes, an ambitious but achievable project for a man willing to exert himself for the good of the family,” Vyne said in praise of Blackwood, then he turned to Hector, and his expression soured. “Something I understand you were not willing to do, since you sold your wreck of an estate to my son last year,” Lord Vyne accused.
Hector was well aware that his interests and society’s expectations clashed over his sale of the Cornwall estate. The place had simply not suited him. “I made a tidy profit from the transaction,” Hector shot back with a satisfied smile. “And I made my sister happy in the bargain, since she lives there with Lord Clement even now.”
Vyne scowled. “They should be here.”
Hector shrugged. “Snow has never been my sister’s favorite weather.”
“Mine either,” Ruby admitted softly. “Gentlemen, I am afraid you will have to excuse me.”
“Of course.” Blackwood rose, and Hector did, too.
“Very well.” Vyne glanced at his pocket watch, nodded, but remained seated. “We will see you again at dinner tonight at seven o’clock, Niece. Wear something pretty to charm my guest.”
“Of course, Uncle,” she promised, and then directed a warm smile at Blackwood that Hector instantly coveted. “Until tonight, sir.”
She merely inclined her head to Hector then left the room.
When Ruby’s steps could no longer be heard, Hector sat again. Why had Ruby smiled so warmly at Blackwood?
When a servant brought spirits and started passing glasses around, Hector declined.
Lord Vyne smiled. “So, big changes afoot at Longlean.”
“Indeed.”
“You’ll want a wife soon, too, I imagine,” Vyne noted.
Hector straightened up in his chair, interested in seeing where this conversation would go next.
“Yes, people do say a wife will be necessary to bring Longlean back to life.” Blackwood looked at the doorway. “I had already determined to do just that.”
Blackwood didn’t look enthused about the idea of making a marriage though. But every man with a fortune needed someone to inherit—even Hector would need a wife one day. To Blackwood, he said, “It seems everyone my age is in a hurry to shackle themselves to a ball and chain.”
“Marriage is a means to an end,” he answered. “Don’t imagine living as a husband will change my nature very much.”
“I’m keen to hear how you will avoid it?”
“How isn’t important,” Blackwood said, shrugging off Hector’s question.
Vyne was nodding. “A match well made, connecting you to the right family, will ensure society opens its doors to you.”
Blackwood nodded.
Vyne learned forward. “I could be of assistance.”
Blackwood stared at Vyne. “Could you indeed?”
“Well, yes,” Vyne promised.
“I must say I am intrigued.”
Hector glanced down at his empty hands as Vyne gushed about his extensive list of acquaintances. The doors he could open for Blackwood. Hector did not like the sound of this alliance forming before his very eyes. Whoever Blackwood took as a wife would just be a means to an end for both men. Vyne’s insistence on helping likely served his own purpose, too.
Once Blackwood had been accepted into society, his poor wife would no doubt be cast aside to a country estate—to be visited only to get an heir and a spare. It happened all the time in society, he knew, but it was the first time Hector had ever watched such a scheme unfold so coldly. He felt…unclean just being in the same room with them.
Hector stood. “Well, gentlemen. I think I must leave you now. Brave the cold and stretch my legs outside. Until dinner.”
“Yes, dinner,” Blackwood murmured. “I look forward to it very much.”
Vyne said nothing.
Hector strolled from the room but he had no intention of freezing his balls off outside. He went directly upstairs, taking them two at a time, and stalked the halls until he found Ruby. She was in a bedchamber, a pretty evening gown laid out upon her bed. A dress meant to impress a suitor, and he wondered, too, if it was even hers. “What are you doing with that?”
“What? The dress?”
“Yes.”
“I’m to wear it for dinner, I suppose. My uncle sent it along with several others this morning.”
By the look of it the gown possessed a very low bodice meant to encourage a seduction. He recalled how Vyne had fawned all over Blackwood downstairs and felt sick. “You will not encourage that man’s attentions by wearing that dress to dinner. I forbid it.”
Ruby paused, and then moved toward him. She sighed as she looked up into his face. “I expected you to say something to that effect.”
Faced with such a calm response to his outburst, Hector made an effort to control his temper. “He’s not for you.”
“Then who is? You?”
Hector snorted and took a step back. “That’s not why I’m here.”
She winced. “I know. I’ve known all along your interest in me is only an amusement. You’ve made your wishes quite plain but so have I. The needs of my life are not amusing, and they are no one’s business but mine. I must marry to protect my son. Blackwood isn’t married and it’s plain to see he could deal with my father-in-law quite easily.”
“He doesn’t even know about Pip.”
“But he will and once we become better acquainted, he might want to be a father to my son and help us stay together.”
“Ruby let me—”
She patted his chest. “No, Hector. I do thank you for your company and your concern for our future. But please allow me to decide how best to protect my son.”
“Blackwood isn’t the man for you, or good enough to be a father to Pip. You’re making a grave mistake.”
She shook her head. “Please don’t ruin this opportunity for me, Hector. Blackwood might just turn out to be the man of my dreams.”
“Or your darkest nightmare,” Hector muttered under his breath.
Chapter 12
Samuel Blackwood was a hard man to draw into a conversation, but Ruby tried her best. She and her uncle were sitting in the conservatory surrounded by potted palms the next morning and struggling through a discussion on the latest scandals. The room was so well heated, Ruby could hardly stand it. She desperately wished for a fan with which to cool her face.
Of Hector, she’d seen no sign this morning. He’d taken her interest in Blackwood to heart and absented himself from socializing. That was a pity, for she was sure his presence might have helped lighten the mood in this room considerably.
“More tea, Uncle?”
“Yes, I think I will.” Lord Vyne held out his cup, his attention on her, and he nodded as she poured.
Ruby took that to mean he was pleased with her and with her attention to Blackwood so far. The only thing that rankled was Vyne’s insistence she could not introduce or mention her son to Blackwood still. It seemed a ridiculous restriction.
She passed her uncle his cup. “My lord.”
“Thank you, my dear.”
Uncle Vyne had begun speaking more sweetly to her as well since Blackwood had arrived and they’d been introduced. He made it seem like he was a benevolent, even affectionate relative. “Mr. Blackwood, would you care for a second cup?”
“No, thank you.”
Blackwood was strictly a one-cup-of-tea man and an impatient one. He often started tapping his foot when her uncle began droning on about their family.
She put the teapot down, having no interest in drowning in tea herself. After folding her hands in her lap, she looked to her uncle.
Vyne was watching Blackwood. “Have you had a chance to tour the manor, Mr. Blackwood?”
“Not as yet.”
Ruby did not blame the man. The Vynes’ public rooms seemed only a few degrees above freezing on most days.
“Mrs. Roper, if you would be so good as to give our guest a tour in my place.”
Although surprised by the unexpected request, Ruby inclined her head. “I’d be happy to.”
She knew little about the contents of the many rooms at The Vynes, but she supposed extolling the virtues of Lord Vyne’s home was not what her uncle had in mind. She had been instructed to woo Mr. Blackwood.
After dinner on the night she’d met Blackwood, her uncle had sent for her and explained the extent of his help. He owed Blackwood a debt that he believed her attentions to the man would fulfill. Marriage was the only outcome Ruby would insist upon. She would not be used for her body, pimped to Blackwood as a whore just to set the earl free. And in exchange for her involvement in her uncle’s scheme, she’d demanded he answer her questions—no matter how uncomfortable.
He’d said Lady Vyne and his children had humiliated him by leaving to live in Cornwall, and he also admitted that the strength of his legs had become unreliable—which was why she’d never seen him standing. And why he stayed in his rooms most of the time.
She felt sorry for him in a way, but he reminded her of Mr. Roper. He intended to use Ruby to have his way unless she stood up for herself.
Ruby stood, picked up the coat and scarf she’d discarded upon entering the conservatory and led the way out. As soon as she encountered the cold, she quickly slipped on her coat and wrapped her scarf about her neck, too.
Blackwood, absent a coat, rubbed his arms briskly. “Is it always so chilly here?”
“I believe so.”
She led Blackwood toward the heated drawing room, where there were a few portraits she recognized. She pointed at one. “My uncle and my father with their parents, in their youth.”
Blackwood squinted at all the faces in turn. He drew back, one brow raised. “People always appear so perfect in these sorts of things.”
Ruby almost laughed. The painting showed nothing of the reality of her father. “If I could afford to commission an artist to immortalize my family, I’d want to look my best, too.”
Blackwood studied the painting again, but this time only the artist’s signature scrawled across the bottom corner.
When he’d finished, he held out his hand, urging her to continue their stroll.
She took Blackwood through the dining room and then the long hall, noting that every fire in the house had been lit today. Vyne must have ordered it done, intending to seem a generous and considerate host to Blackwood.
The long hall held many grand paintings, but Ruby hardly knew one from the other. They walked in silence for the length of the hall.
When they stopped, it was at a far window. The view outside was white still, but the snow was no longer falling. If not for her bargain with her uncle, she and Pip might have gone exploring together today.
Blackwood turned to her. “Not much excitement out there.”
“The Vynes is a place of peace and tranquility.”
“I’d much rather the chaos of London,” Blackwood admitted.
“My family has a house in London, too.” A place she might never see again unless she married well and they invited her back into the fold.
“Mayfair is not the real London,” Blackwood warned. “I shouldn’t think you’d find it much to your liking.”
“Why is that?”
“London is unruly, disorder and chaos. Loud and unapologetic. It requires a certain degree of flexibility and dishonesty that I suspect you entirely lack.”
Ruby found his statement both pleased and angered her. How dare he assume to know her character on so brief an acquaintance? He didn’t know anything about her, really. Lord Vyne would hardly have told him the truth. She could enlighten Blackwood here and now but found she didn’t want to, no matter what she’d promised her uncle. “I guess I’ll never know until I see it for myself.”
She moved along the hall a ways, to a new window with a slightly different view. What was she to do about Blackwood and that promise to her uncle? Perhaps she should have taken up Hector’s offer of assistance the moment he’d spoken of it. They could have been halfway to Cornwall by now. She needed very little but safety, and a little warmth, too.
To her surprise, she saw him, Hector, trudging through the deep snow…with a small bundle thrown over his shoulder. When the bundle wriggled, kicking tiny legs and arms, she froze in surprise.
Hector had her son and was taking him off to the stables.
At the door, Hector set him down and straightened his clothing.
Pip looked up at Hector, clearly talking his head off, and Hector ruffled his hair before pushing open the door.
They disappeared, clearly off for another adventure without her.
She had not expected Hector to seek to entertain her son again today, or any day. Not after she’d made it plain she would not kiss Hector again. But Pip did love horses, and the stables were his favorite place in the world.
She found Hector’s interest in her son surprisingly pleasing.
Blackwood drew close. “Is something wrong, madam?”
“No. The view is just like all the rest. I am just a little chilled.”
“I am too.” He bowed to her. “Thank you for showing me more of the house. If you will excuse me, I should like to return to Lord Vyne and continue our earlier conversation.”
“But of course. Thank you, Mr. Blackwood, for your company. It has been a pleasure to become better acquainted with you.”
As soon as he left, Ruby hurried for a rear door, looking for a well-trod path to take her to the stables. It wasn’t hard to find the path Hecto
r must have taken. His footprints were deep, though, and she quickly understood why Hector might have thrown Pip upon his shoulder.
She carefully picked her way through the snow, using Hector’s footprints to spare herself the worst of the cold and damp. But by the time she reached the stables, her toes were cold and her stockings were wet.
She pushed the heavy door open and instantly saw Hector leaning against a stall not far away. He looked over his shoulder, and then snatched up a blanket before hurrying to her. “What are you doing coming out in this weather?”
“I saw you and Pip coming here.”
“He’s playing.”
She didn’t see Pip. “Where?”
Hector wrapped her in the blanket and, with one arm around her back, propelled her to the stall he’d just left.
Pip was inside, marching around the stall with another, larger boy. They were stomping down the hay beneath their feet and laughing their heads off. Pip’s cheeks were pink already, and he was smiling. The other boy was just the same.
Ruby drew back but was worried. “If my uncle saw him doing that, he might not approve.”
“It’s harmless play. And the straw is clean, intended only to thicken the mattresses of the stable hands. They just hadn’t gotten around to using it yet and don’t mind. Young Allan there does this all the time, I’m told.”
Relieved, she glanced around the stables. There were no servants anywhere about. Only Hector, watching the boys play together.
Hector’s arm stole around her again. “Are you warm enough?”
“My feet are a bit cold,” she admitted.
“Well, then,” Hector said as he pulled her a little tighter to his side. “Shall we stroll the stables to keep ourselves warm? While we do, I suggest we make a game of choosing more fitting names for Lord Vyne’s horses. Vyne, I’ve found, lacks the imagination to choose names worthy of such handsome steeds.”
She laughed. “I’ve never named a horse before.”
“Well, now is your chance to try while we pass the time waiting for Pip or Allan to tire themselves out.”
