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She pursed her lips, considering her words carefully.

“I was not alone for long. Lord Rotham came upon me as he sought shelter from the storm following an outing with Lord Bronwyn. It was he who escorted me back to the manor after the rain.”

Her father tilted his head to one side, watching her carefully. She attempted to look away, but his gaze lingered; she felt it clearly.

“I know it was not proper. However, we did not plan it and….”

“Ruth, I said nothing about the propriety of the matter. It is not as though you ran away to Gretna Green to elope, you simply took the air. It is his estate after all, and he was being gentlemanly.” He fell silent, watching her carefully. “He is a very pleasant young man, is he not.”

She glanced at him, exhaling deeply as she did. “He is. At first, I thought him conceited and vain, focused only on the exterior of a person, such as many people are, but he is not at all like it. He cares deeply about what a person’s true character is, I can tell from the way he speaks. He is very…” She bit her lips; afraid she’d revealed too much already. “He is kind. Sophia will be lucky to have him for a husband.” She said at last.

Her father cleared his throat. “Ruth, you know that there has been no offer made, there has been no agreement regarding who is to marry. As it stands, His Grace and I had agreed to have you both stay for the summer so that a connection might materialize quite naturally.”

“Papa, we both know that all parties involved assume it is Sophia who will marry. She certainly assumes so, and so does Lord Rotham.”

“Does he? For he has said nothing of the sort to me. If anything, he’s seemed somewhat reluctant to spend time with your sister and it seems it is much easier for him to converse with you. And the way you speak of him… there is something about the way you glow when you …”

“Papa!” She jumped up and turned. “Please, do not encourage these foolish ideas that I might… that we might….”

He got up and walked up to her, taking her hands in his. She felt the calluses on the palms of his hands from years spent riding and holding on to the reins.

“Ruth, there is nothing at all, set in stone. People will make assumptions about others, about circumstances but in the end your future is an unwritten book. As is his. As is Sophia’s. And if it should be that you and Lord Rotham find there is something between the two of you that cannot be found between him and Sophia, then so be it. As you know, my dearest wish is for you both to be loved and be happy. That is all I desire. Conversely, that is all His Grace desires for his son.”

Ruth raised her eyebrow at her father. “That, and an heir. For I should think he’d not want his estate to pass to that ghastly Lord Cragshade.”

Her father’s visage softened. “An heir, yes. That he also very much desires. But please, Ruth, do not consider yourself less worthy of love and attention than your sister. And do not worry about the Duchess. Whatever will happen shall come to pass.”

He cupped her face and kissed her forehead. “Now, I must ready myself for dinner. And so should you.”

He turned away and exited through the door on the other side of the room.

Ruth lingered in the music room for a moment longer as she pondered his words before making her way toward her chamber. As she made her way out of the music room, through the adjoining drawing room, she spotted movement from the corner of her eyes. She spun around just in time to see the train of a pale-blue gown disappearing around the corner and her heart sank.

She rushed to the door and glanced down the hall. “Sophia?” She called out, sure her sister was the owner of the gown. She found the hall empty. As she stood, wondering how much the person, be it her sister or someone else, could have overheard, when a door slammed shut in the distance.

Ruth swallowed hard, wrapping her arms around herself as a distinct feeling of impending doom chilled her to the bones.

Chapter 18

Kenneth sat in the library, a novel open on his lap when footsteps sounded. He groaned the moment he laid eyes on the man who entered.

“Lawrence. I see you can walk.” He noted the cane in his cousin’s hand. It wasn’t even touching the ground, it was dangling from his wrist as if it were of the fashionable kind, rather than a medical aid.

“My leg pains me greatly yet. Although it may be due to my having been thrown against a wall so very recently.”

Kenneth blinked but said nothing. He knew his cousin was after an apology, but he would find himself wanting as none was forthcoming.

Lawrence sat in the armchair beside Kenneth and cocked his head to one side.

“So, the Lady of the Flames. You must be fond of her, at least by appearances.”

At once, Kenneth’s stomach burned with an unsettling rage.

“Please refrain from using such language. She is a lady, same as her sister and she ought to be treated as such.”

Lawrence raised his hands defensively. “Very well, I shall hold my tongue. Although, I will say this much. If your mother were to see you keeping such close company with her, she may not be pleased at all. I believe she has someone entirely different in mind for a daughter-in-law.”

Kenneth shook his head. He did not wish to converse with his cousin at the best of times and these were not the best of times. He’d been busy mulling over the events of the previous day. He found himself quite unable to sleep or to think of anything other than Lady Ruth.