Ravishing Ruby (21 page)

Fighting her growing fury—and dread—Ruby could only nod. She did not need this complication now.

“Life has rules. Whether one likes them or not, they exist. I thought you were clear about this. I have seen you be most strident with your girls. I am not sure what has changed recently, but it must stop and stop now.”

Deep breath. Deep breath. Lord Thorton is a powerful man. It does not do to anger powerful men. Deep breath. Deep breath. “I do not admit to being at the Simpsons' affair the other night. I had a personal matter I needed to attend to which kept me from the house. And I am quite capable of deciding what rules to comply with in my own house.”

“Tut, tut, tut. That is how problems develop, when people think to decide what rules to apply. You made rules. Now stick to them. I will not push about the Simpsons' masquerade. I notice you did not go so far as to lie, and I will commend you on that and not push you into the mistruth you try to avoid. Just do not let it happen again.”

Who was this man that he thought to govern her? She had never heard such nonsense. Oh, the replies that came to mind. Only, she knew just who he was and what he could do. Could he ruin her, ruin Madame Rouge's? Probably not, at least not completely. But was she willing to risk all on a probably? She had survived other such threats in the past, and she certainly had friends in high places, but…“I will take your words under advisement.”

Thorton looked up, let his eyes roam over her in a manner that was deliberately cold and insulting. “See that you do. I am very capable of carrying through with my threats.”

Ruby pressed her lips tight, still trying to swallow the words that wished to bubble forth. If only she understood why Lord Thorton cared so much. She'd always considered him one of her nicer patrons. Yes, he'd always been obsessed with rules, but his current behavior was far beyond reasonable.

“And don't look at me like that, my girl. I am being generous with you. If I chose to enforce my views, I promise you would be much less happy.”

There was something very chilling in the man's tone, something that caused Ruby to take notice. She had assumed that he meant only to spread the word that her house was not the reliable, comfortable place it had always been, but something in his words made her wonder. This sounded far more like a direct threat, but a threat of what? Well, if all went as she wished, it would be her successor who'd have to deal with him. And wasn't that a strange thought—her successor? She could almost feel sorry for that unknown woman, or man, as she gazed across at the arrogant, little lord.

And if she stayed? If Derek never came? Or if he refused her? Then she would manage Lord Thorton as she had managed all such threats in the past. She would not be cowed, not now.

She nodded again. “I will be careful, Lord Thorton.”

He looked directly into her eyes, clearly seeing all that she did not say. And then with a nod of his own, he was gone.

Derek rubbed his aching head and sat up, looking about his cabin on the
Dawn's Light
. Fuck, that had been a mess yesterday. A wrong cargo being loaded. A dockmaster wanting thrice the normal payoff. The delayed cargo still not here. Three men missing—only one of whom had showed up, stumbling and drunk. A fight between two other men over a tailor's daughter.

There were times when giving up the sea did not seem such a punishment.

And he was not even thinking about being summoned to meet with Anne and her brother and the disaster the meeting had been. A meeting that still had him seeing red every time he closed his eyes and let his thoughts wander.

Had Anne really believed he'd just give in? They did not know each other well, but how could she believe he'd be so easily persuaded, manipulated? Did she not know him at all? He'd never given any indication that he'd stay in England. He'd always been very clear that he intended to make his home in America.

His blood boiled at what a fool she must have thought him, what a pliable fool.

At least that was done. His family would not be pleased, but neither would they have been pleased if he'd refused to return to Rhode Island.

And there were other possibilities…If only Anne did not relent and summon him back.

Ruby.

He had missed seeing her yesterday.

She'd be upset, women always were. But hopefully if he arrived on time today she'd be soothed. She had given him two days and she was a reasonable woman.

A woman who would never try to manipulate him, never try to force his hand.

And if he could get over his feelings of Anne's manipulation last night, it might even lead to those possibilities he barely dared to dream of, possibilities that would make Ruby very happy—at least he hoped they would.

Getting up from the bed, he picked up the pitcher of water and poured some into a bowl, splashing his face. It was still early, but it was not a fast ride in from the Port of London—and he had a feeling Ruby would not take it well if he were late today.

All he had to do was think her name and she filled his mind, lush and creamy, curled against his side. He could almost feel her against him, her softness and musky smell, her sleepy words whispering in his ear.

And possibility…

Could he dare hope?

His shoulders eased. His neck unknotted. Such was the power of the thought. He indulged himself for a moment, relishing the memory of her beside him, of the deep comfort and safety of the moment.

It was only as he pulled on his breeches and boots that he realized he'd been thinking about words and cuddles instead of breasts, and belly, and…

What was happening to him?

Slowly Ruby walked the stairs up to her grandfather's office. She'd come much later today than yesterday, having no need to explain about Derek again, but no dread was filling her—not that she'd been without a belly full of anxiety for more than an hour at a time for several days.

For so long she'd felt that all the large choices in her life were made and now nothing was certain. Everything seemed to be pointing her in a new direction, but did she have the courage to follow? And even if she did, there were so many questions.

The largest of them Derek.

She didn't even know if he'd consider what she proposed. He might be furious that she had held so much of herself back—although when she should have revealed herself to him was unclear, certainly not that first night months ago when what had passed between them had only been an impulse and a dream.

And what of these past weeks? At what point had things changed between them? Had things changed between them or was it only in her mind?

And what of Anne?

Her stomach felt as if it lifted and turned over, and then turned again.

Even if Derek was interested, even if he desired the same as she, would he be willing to set aside his promise, even if it was only the promise of a promise? He was a man of honor. Of that she had not the slightest doubt. If he gave his word, he would keep it. But had he given his word? How did he consider the current situation?

And what of his family? She had no doubt that there would be advantages to an alliance with her grandfather's firm, but would they consider that payment for losing whatever it was they gained from the alliance with Anne's family?

Her mind spinning with questions, she pushed open the door and stepped into the crowded office.

Her grandfather looked up. That strange look again upon his face. “Is he here, then?”

“No, but it is still early. I do not expect him for at least an hour.”

“And if he does not come?”

That was the heart of the question that kept Ruby's innards spinning. What if he did not come? Did she take that as a sign of disinterest and disinclination, or was it merely a matter of circumstance? Derek did not know what she wanted, so it would be hard to take his not coming as a refusal, but if he did not arrive, what choices did she have left?

Spin. Grumble. Spin. Drop. Spin. Her stomach felt like she'd been at sea for a week in heavy storm waters—and eaten a plate of bad fish as well.

She worked hard to present a face of calm. “If he does not arrive, I will deal with that when it happens.”

“So you don't know?”

Her grandfather knew her too well. “No, I do not know.”

“Then you will come to your grandmother's dinner and meet the young men that she has invited, and you will smile and be modest and accepting.”

Spin. Spin. Spin. “And will they be young men? I would hardly call Mr. Wyeth young.”

“Do not be clever with me, girl,” her grandfather answered, but his tone was not sharp. “You will be agreeable, whatever the case.”

“I can promise to be polite. I do not know about agreeable.”

“I think you can manage agreeable. I know how much you love your grandmother.” His eyes narrowed at the end.

Was there a threat in his words? It was always so hard to tell. He'd backed off so much since their compromise and had seemed quite interested when she'd talked of Derek yesterday. She knew, however, that the main issue still stood. She either became Emma full time or she gave up her family.

She swallowed hard. “I can try.” And then she raised her chin. “I cannot, however, promise.”

He nodded sharply and lowered his head to his books. “Tell me, do you think we should stock cheaper brass buttons? I've a new supplier who will sell us buttons at twenty percent less, but I am unsure.”

She gratefully took the change of subject, happy to think of anything except whether or not Derek would come. “Do you have a sample I can see?” she asked.

“Of course.” Rising from his desk, her grandfather pulled a box from a shelf.

He was late. Derek looked up at the sign above the warehouse, Scanton Mercantile. He'd been here before, the last time barely more than a week past. That was why the direction had seemed so familiar. He'd come to argue about that blasted delayed cargo and to bargain future business for his family.

Why would Ruby have directed him here? It made no sense.

And then the obvious struck him. Emma Scanton. He was sure she'd once mentioned her surname was Scanton. Scanton Mercantile. Could there be a connection? There must be a connection. He tried to remember what she'd told him of her past. He remembered her father, the duke, but what had she said of her mother? He knew she'd been of respectable birth, but what beyond that?

A grandfather who had disowned her mother. Had Ruby ever mentioned the man's name? He didn't think so, although it would not be a far stretch to imagine that his name had been Scanton. It seemed impossible to consider that Emma could possibly be…And yet…

His mind hesitated to think what this could mean for him, for them. Only there was no them. But perhaps there could be. Last night could certainly have changed things.

Would he end up thanking Anne for the game she had played?

Still trying to understand, to put it all together in his mind, he pushed the door open and entered, letting the familiar scent of pine boxes and cotton and cargo still scented by sea winds surround him.

He heard the creak of a door from above and turned, his eyes focusing at the top of the narrow wooden stair.

Emma stood there, but Emma as he had never seen her. He thought he'd gotten to know Ruby and all her sides, but this was someone new.

She stood there in a fitted day dress, high at the neck and loose over her breasts. The sober color would not easily show dust or wear. Her light blond hair was pulled loosely back and then braided in a knot. No softly curling strands would be escaping to draw his attention—and his fingers.

His Ruby all prim and proper.

He would not have imagined such a thing. It would have seemed an impossibility if he were not looking at her himself.

This was definitely Emma, but even for Emma this seemed farfetched. His Emma was sweet and innocent, large sapphire eyes and sensuous hair curling all about.

He wished he could see her eyes, see the fire and life that always burned within them, but sadly the dim light of the warehouse prevented him from seeing so far.

His step picked up as he hurried across the floor—even as his mind made another connection, one he wished it had not, one he could only hope was not true.

He was here. Even without hearing his name, Ruby had known what the commotion below marked and had opened the door to the floor below, eager to see him.

Derek was here. Derek had come.

But even as her eyes devoured him as he strode toward her, she found her guts churning, terrified of what was to come.

If he had not come, things would still have remained in flux. She would have had another chance to determine his feelings, to push for more.

But now, now this was it. He would either do as she wished or not.

Within a few hours' time, perhaps less, she would know what her life would hold.

She swallowed, fighting back the bile.

This was Derek. There was no reason for her to be scared. She had invited him here for a reason.

“He is here, then. Good.” Her grandfather spoke from behind, a slight hesitation in his voice.

“Yes.” Her voice sounded far smaller and more timid than she was used to.

“Is he coming up?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

She took a step back into the office, still holding the door open, and turned to her grandfather. “What do you mean?”

“Is he your final choice? Your grandmother does have several other men for you to consider. I would not want to feel that I have pushed you toward him,” he replied.

Now, that was an odd comment, and was he suddenly nervous? Something was not right. Her grandfather might have pushed her toward marriage, but certainly not toward Derek. Not that the word
marriage
had ever been used explicitly in regard to Derek. It would be unseemly to plan on marriage before even discussing it with the gentleman in question. “Of all the options open to me he seems the best.”

Her grandfather's face grew still. “And is the best enough?”

“You ask that now?” She sent him a curious look. Why was he suddenly so concerned about her happiness? “You were ready to marry me off to Mr. Wyeth.”

Before her grandfather could answer, there was the clatter of boots upon the wood stairs and then Derek pushed through the door, pulling it from her hand.

He nodded to her grandfather. “Mr. Scanton.” And then he turned to her, his gaze holding hers even as his eyes quickly roamed over her, taking in every aspect of her appearance. Another nod. “Miss Scanton.”

Only as he spoke her name did she realize her relief. He could have called her Ruby—or even worse, Madame Rouge. She had given him no instruction, no explanation. How had he…? No, that was a silly question. He was not a dull man and the name of the business would have told him everything—or at least almost so.

“Captain Price, it is good to see you again,” her grandfather spoke from behind her.

Her head whipped about. Again? When had they met before? Why had her grandfather not said anything? He had mentioned knowing the family, but not having met Derek. Again she thought that something was not right.

Derek did not answer for a moment, his gaze still locked on her. His eyes asked her something, but she was unsure what.

Finally he turned to her grandfather. “Why am I here? Was this your plan all along?”

Her grandfather straightened. “You are here, I believe, because my granddaughter asked you. Why ask me?”

Derek took a step forward. “Are you trying to tell me this was not a plan? That my cargo has not been delayed for weeks for precisely this reason?”

What? Ruby looked back and forth from one to the other. What were they talking about?

“Miss Scanton asked you to come here. I did not know until after the invite had been issued.”

“So it is all coincidence? Why do I find that hard to believe?”

A deep red began to mark her grandfather's cheeks. “Sometimes things really do happen by chance.”

“What are the two of you trying to say?” She turned to Derek. “And why would you think my grandfather had anything to do with your being here? I wanted to talk to you, to let you see a bit more of the life I lead. And I know nothing of this cargo, although I do remember you mentioning it.”

Instead of answering, Derek turned back to her grandfather. “And I can assure you that I have seen quite a bit of the life she leads.”

What was he trying to do? She'd explained that her grandfather chose to know nothing about Madame Rouge, that they carefully lived with the lie that she spent her days a companion to an elderly lady.

Her grandfather was so deep a red now as to be almost purple. “We do not need to talk of that, let us just focus on why my dear Emma wished you to come.”