“All great loves start with a mutual attraction, an understanding. This you certainly have.”
“We do. I have never spoken with a lady with such ease. And yet, I fear what will happen if I confess my feelings to her.”
Jack smirked. “You fear she will turn you down? Well, if she has as much taste as it appears, she certainly might!” He laughed in so roading a fashion Kenneth looked around for fear of someone overhearing them.
“What would I do without you, old chum? My ego might inflate beyond comprehension if not for your frequent put-downs.”
“You understand I jest.”
“Of course. I do not deny it, I wonder if she feels as I do. I made a cake of myself a multitude of times when she arrived. And then there is the matter of my mother.”
Jack frowned at this but then clicked his tongue.
“Ah, yes. As lovely as Lady Ruth is, she does not fit the ideals of what your mother would consider a lady of the ton.”
Kenneth pressed his teeth together, grinding them. Sensing his unease, Jack spoke up again.
“Do not allow Her Grace to interfere in your happiness. At the end of the day, it will be you who must live with the chosen lady for the rest of your life.”
Kenneth groaned. “I know it, Jack. I do. And if it comes to that, if Lady Ruth feels as I do, then I will stand up to my mother and my father if need be. Alas, I may find myself out of a place to live and if His Grace, the Duke of Twilightfare doesn’t offer me refuge I may find myself calling at Caster Hall.”
Jack’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Anytime, Ken, anytime.” As his friend chuckled Kenneth grew silent again, wondering just what he was supposed to do about this quandary. And how he ought to tell Lady Ruth of his feelings. One thing he knew for sure was this. Tell her he must. And soon.
Chapter 21
The following morning, Ruth rose early. She examined the cut on her hand and curled her fingers repeatedly. Pleased with her range of motion she rose and rang the bell, summoning Charlotte.
She glanced at the door separating her chamber from her sister’s and sighed. The two had not spoken more than a few polite words after the incident involving her patch box. She shuddered as she thought of last night’s dinner, a tedious and strained affair filled with glares from her sister. The absence of Lord Rotham – Kenneth – who was dining with Lord Bronwyn, made her feel all the more insecure and uncomfortable.
Perhaps today would be better. It could hardly get worse.
Ruth shivered, the soles of her feet growing cold. She rushed back to bed, jumped on the soft mattress, and wrapped the blanket around herself. The soft material was still warm. She remained there until Charlotte appeared, carrying a blue water urn in her hands. A wash ball bounced up and down on her chest with each move, suspended from a rope.
“Good morning, Lady Ruth. I trust you slept well?”
She placed her bare feet on the cold floor once more and nodded. “I have. Thank you. Has my sister risen yet?”
“Aye, she has. She and Her Grace have gone to the stable already.”
She nodded. It was lovely her sister had a maternal figure at last but that little flicker of envy remained in her stomach. A longing for her mother spread from her heart throughout her body, putting her into a sense of quiet nostalgia that kept her mind busy through most of her morning routine.
It wasn’t until she stood, dressed in her lilac round gown and a capote on her head that Charlotte broke her out of her silence with a peculiar statement.
“I do not believe there is a need for you to go down this morning,” she smiled.
“Oh?”
“Your breakfast is being served on the balcony.”
“The balcony? Why? Has my father arranged for it?” At home, she and her father would at times take breakfast in the garden or on the balcony, but to do so here was unexpected.
“You will see,” Charlotte replied. The maid walked with a spring in her step and smiled widely at Ruth.
When she stepped onto the balcony, Ruth broke into a grin. A small table was set up outside with a selection of delicacies placed thereupon.
She slid into her seat, scanning the table with curiosity when before her, Charlotte lifted a ceramic lid from a plate.
“Faith!” She exclaimed, realizing at once what the meaning behind this was. “Lacy pancakes?”
