Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sol had known this day would come. He had known, and he had dreaded it. He had foolishly hoped that perhaps if he put it off one more day, one more month, one more year, it would somehow become less of a nightmare and more like an awkward reunion.
Yes, he fully realized he was simply being foolish.
When Laura’s weeping had subsided, Ruby gently released her, then turned to Sol with that hard expression that he was more accustomed to seeing upon her face.
Ruby had not wanted this. What had happened to her had changed her, irrevocably, and she had no wish to touch the people and memories from her past now that she had forged a new identity, built a new place for herself.
But Sol had known Ruby was one of the few people in whom he could trust, the one person he knew would not be able to turn Laura away.
Phoebe had looked shocked as she overheard Laura’s words to Ruby, but now her gaze turned to her, filled with wonderment. “Are you truly Ruby? It is I, Phoebe, your cousin.”
Ruby had been steeling herself for her reunion with Laura, but as she turned to Phoebe, her jaw relaxed. She did not smile, exactly, but her face softened as she approached. “Yes, I am Ruby. It has been a long time, Phoebe.”
Tears spilled from Phoebe’s eyes, but she smiled through them. She reached out and clasped Ruby’s hands in her own. “I am so glad to see you again.”
Everyone froze at the distant sound of knocking from beneath their feet—someone at the tradesman’s entrance to the half-basement in the front area well.
Phoebe said, “It is Mr. Benjamin, returned from driving the carriage to the mews.”
At first, Sol wondered why she used his false name before remembering that Ruby’s butler still stood among them in the entrance hall, and Phoebe did not know Ruby’s secret occupation. The butler immediately left to head downstairs and let Mr. Verling into the house.
Ruby’s eyes flickered to Miss Gardinier, and before Sol could speak, Phoebe said, “Ruby, this is my best friend, Miss Keriah Gardinier. Keriah, this is my cousin, Miss Rubinia Nealle.”
Miss Gardinier’s warm, open nature seemed to hardly notice that Ruby was obviously dressed like a high flyer. She smiled broadly and, after a proper curtsy, she reached out to grasp Ruby’s hands. “Phoebe has told me about you, Miss Nealle. I am ever so pleased to meet you.”
“And you remember Aya, I am sure,” Phoebe said.
Aya’s eyes had overflowed with tears from the moment she first saw Ruby on the stairs, but now a fresh wave of sobbing overtook her as she stepped forward, bobbing a curtsy. “Miss Ruby, I never imagined I would see you again. I have blamed myself for that day quite as much as your aunt.”
Pain flashed across Ruby’s face, so quick and so minute that Sol wasn’t certain if he had seen it at all.
Then recrimination rolled over him. He had been desperate, and he had asked Ruby for help, but he had not thought about how this meeting would bring back the horrible memories of what had happened to her.
Last year, before he had begun working with Laura, he might not have even considered it.
But now shame rose up in him like nausea as he realized he might have been forcing this young woman to relive the horror of eleven years ago.
“Thank you, Ruby,” he said hoarsely, his voice swimming in his guilt.
She glanced at him with cool eyes, but she must have seen something in his face, because she nodded slightly, acknowledging all the things for which he was apologizing.
Ruby turned to look at all of them. She curtsied elegantly, gracefully. “You are welcome to this place of shelter.” Her words were old and dramatic, more befitting an actress than a prostitute.
Sol realized that she would continue that role even now, with her family present. Perhaps she had worn this mask for so long that she no longer knew how to cast it off.
Ruby continued, “However, I am afraid it is only for two weeks. The house’s owner—” There was a faint hint of disgust in her voice. “—returns in a fortnight.”
“I thank you,” Sol said. “I need only time to find another place of safety for us.”
Phoebe’s eyes flickered to the servants’ door at the back of the entrance hall long before Sol heard the sound of footsteps. “Here comes Mr. Verling,” he said.
Strangely, Ruby’s face froze. It was almost imperceptible, but Sol noted that Phoebe’s brow furrowed as she stared at her cousin. She had detected something unusual in Ruby’s reaction.
Then the butler entered from the back of the hall, followed by Mr. Verling. Sol waited for him to draw near so he could introduce Ruby.
But as soon as Mr. Verling walked out and his gaze fell upon Ruby, his face turned the color of palest milk. His body grew very, very still, except for a slight tremor in his left hand.
Ruby gazed back at him, her face inscrutable but still stiff. Sol saw her fists clenched at her sides, draped by the folds of her skirts, and he realized her impassive expression hid some troubling emotion.
He glanced at Phoebe and saw that she was looking between Ruby and Mr. Verling. While she struggled to keep her reaction from showing upon her face, he could see her concern.
Then her eyes darted to the front door only a second before Sol heard the sound of horses’ hooves against the stone of the street and the rattle of carriage wheels.
Someone had stopped in front of Ruby’s house.
Everyone heard the sound, but it was Ruby who reacted first. She said to her butler, “Take them to the attic.”
The butler, however, responded with the familiarity of a friend rather than a servant. “That space is very small. Perhaps the nursery? Or a spare bedroom?”
Ruby was not offended he had questioned her.
She shook her head. “If they are hemmed in, there is no escape from those rooms. In the attic, if necessary, they may climb out the dormer windows.” Ruby glanced at the fanlight over the front door.
“Take them up the servants’ stairs so they will not be seen. ”
She turned to the rest of them. “Follow Clifton upstairs and make not a single sound. No one must know that you are in the house. Hurry, else our visitor, whoever it may be, will hear everyone moving about.”
Sol wanted to ask her who would be visiting her at this hour, worried that someone had seen them enter the house despite the darkness of the front porch.
But instead, he wrapped his arm around Laura and guided her toward the small servants’ door at the back of the entrance hall, following the butler.
Could Norton’s men have found them? No, the men would have made an effort to hide their approach. This carriage had pulled up in front, and the occupant was clearly intent upon knocking on the front door.
Was it Lord Treme, returned early from his trip? If so, they would be trapped in the attic for several uncomfortable hours before he left.
They made their way down the narrow steps to the half-basement level, then all the way to the back of the house and up a narrow servants’ stair. It had been newly repaired with fresh wooden steps that smelled brightly of pine.
There was no landing onto the ground floor, but Sol heard a booming gentleman’s voice coming from the front of the house, the sound filtering through the walls. “Ambrosia! Surprised to see me?”
Ruby’s voice answered, sounding warm and amused, although he could not understand her words.
Sol gritted his teeth in frustration. His lordship had arrived back in town two weeks earlier than expected. It was going to be very difficult for them until he could find a new place for them to stay.
Upon hearing the voice of Ruby’s visitor, everyone made more of an effort to keep their steps as quiet as possible on the stair treads.
The stairs ended on the second floor, at the end of a hallway lined with doors. Next to the landing was a narrow door which the butler unlocked and opened quietly.
The steps to the attic rose up into the darkness, smelling of old furniture and cobwebs.
The butler led the way up into the blackness, and Sol followed close behind him with Laura.
He stumbled slightly as he reached the top of the stairs, and Laura gripped his forearm hard to keep them both from falling.
Then there was a spark along with the sound of flint striking steel, and the butler lit a lamp that had been set on the table beside the stairs. Sol moved forward into the cramped space.
To the right of the stairs was the servants’ sleeping area, but there were simply two unused beds and a battered dresser. Sol realized that Ruby’s only servants were likely the butler and her lady’s maid, and perhaps a maid or cook who did not stay in the house.
In the rest of the space were various trunks, paintings, and old-fashioned furniture that had been haphazardly scattered about, with some pieces encroaching upon the unused servants’ sleeping area.
Sol moved forward to allow the rest to enter the attic. Then the butler caught Sol’s eye and nodded. He departed down the stairs, and there was the click of metal as he locked the attic door behind them.
“What is happening?” Miss Gardinier asked in a whisper. “Who was that man?”
“Her … protector,” Sol said.
Phoebe looked unsurprised, for she had likely been able to overhear the entire conversation in the entrance hall. Miss Gardinier was openly shocked.
But strangely, Laura and Mr. Verling had expressions remarkably similar to each other—deep-seated pain, threaded with regret.
Sol still had his arm around Laura’s waist, but now she straightened and pulled away from him. She turned to face him, her eyes dark in the lamplight. “Sol,” was all she said in a low voice, but somehow the sound was like the crack of a pistol being fired.
He had already felt like there was a weight pressing against his chest, but now it was though a bullet had ripped through his stomach.
Now, at last, was his hour of reckoning.
He tugged at her elbow, and they moved deeper into the attic, out of the circle of light from the lamp.
Phoebe watched them leave, but simply guided Miss Gardinier to sit upon one of the unmade beds.
Mr. Verling appeared to be in a daze as he sat upon the other bed.
Aya had found an old quilt and was shaking it out before wrapping it around the two girls.
As soon as they were out of earshot (of everyone except Phoebe, of course), Laura hissed at him, “How could you, Sol? How could you have kept from me this knowledge about Ruby when you know that I have been searching for her?”
“I did not know it was Ruby at first.” But then his voice grew weak as he confessed, “However, I suspected. She goes by the name Ambrosia Riley, and when I first met her, she looked familiar. I did not realize until later that she matched the portrait of Ruby as a young girl that you had shown to me many years earlier.”
“How did you come to find her?”
“The Senhora,” Sol said, “although I did not know it at the time. She told Sir Derrick about a young courtesan named Ambrosia who had information for the Ramparts about her protector, and he sent me to speak to the girl.”
Even in the darkness he could see the whites of her widened eyes, he could hear the trembling in her voice as she said, “The Senhora has known all this time? She must have known Ambrosia was Ruby—I have been paying exorbitant amounts of money for her help over the years to try to find her.”
“She did know,” Sol said reluctantly, “but there was a reason she could not tell you. Ruby was mistress to Lord Polock, who at the time was working in the Foreign Office.”
At the name, Laura grew silent as she tried to remember where she had heard it. “He died several years ago, quietly, in his sleep.”
“All that is true. He did die quietly, in his sleep. The Ramparts asked Ruby to kill him.”
Laura drew in a sharp breath.
“Since that time, Ruby has been working for the Ramparts. She is one of the Quiet Men.”