you will have heirs and become the mother of a future Duke.” Sophia scoffed, missing Ruth’s sarcastic tone. “Marry Lord Cragshade? I will never marry someone so beneath us. Don’t you see? This is why I am angry. I’ve been robbed of the pleasure of the London Season because we do not go there. I have been out in society for two whole years and not found a good match because I do not engage in the dances and events other ladies do.”
“Because of me.”
“Yes!” Her voice rose in exasperation. “Because I do not wish to leave you alone for months and months while I frolic in London. It is why I was so happy to hear of this adventure. This plan to match me with Lord Rotham. And to find myself so welcome here. The Duchess has been gracious and like a mother to me. The servants adore me – and I would have found a way to make a good match with Lord Rotham, even if he did not love me. You’ve ruined it for me.”
Her sister’s egotistical manner was insufferable. Bile rose up in
Ruth’s throat as she spun around. “Sophia, there are other lords. You are beautiful, and when you do not indulge in such spectacular self-righteousness you are a lovely person. But I am tired of your accusations. I want to be happy as well and unlike you, this is perhaps the only chance I will ever have at being happy. Do you know how often I’ve dreamt of a man who might love me? Despite this?” She gestured at her scar. “You can find another lord.”
“But not a Duke. Do you know how few Dukes there are in the Realm?”
“Twenty-five,” Ruth replied at once. She knew all of their names
and estates as well as their worth, one of the many useless things she
memorized over the years.
“Indeed, and our father is one. Leaving only twenty-four. If you take Lord Rotham from me, then I will have to compete with all of these ladies
for but a handful of eligible lords.”
Ruth closed her eyes. The crevasse between herself and her sister was so deep she could hardly fathom it.
Has she always been this way? So shallow? Concerned only with her standing? No. She was never like this. Why now? Why is she…
A sigh escaped her. The Duchess. Of course. The Duchess’ influence on her sister was undeniable.
“There are other lords. There are also thirty-one marquesses and
more than two-hundred Earls, not to mention all of the Viscounts, Barons, and of course, the Baronets and Knights.”
Sophia sneered at this. “I am the daughter of a Duke, and you
suggest I marry a Baronet?” Glass could have been cut with it, so sharp was her tone. That the suggestion she marries below her father’s rank had her sister at sixes and sevens. The change in her startled Ruth and words simply failed her. However, what truly left her speechless was what she discovered next.
“Where are the shards?”
“What? You speak in riddles, Sister.”
Ruth hasted toward her armoire. She’d kept the shards of her
mother’s patch box atop the armoire, intending to tell Kenneth that she’d found them and to see if it might be repaired yet. Now, they were gone again.
“Did you take them?”
“Did I take your rubbish? Why would I?”
Ruth’s mouth snapped shut and her eyes widened.
“Rubbish? It was our mother’s. Kenneth was going to repair it for me, and you know this. Now, they are gone. Did you take them? For it was you who made me break it in the first place?”
The accusation was out of her mouth before she could stop herself.
She didn’t intend to make her sister aware of her suspicion, but it was too late now.
“Why would you say such a thing? I could never. Our mother’s patch
box? How can you be so cruel and accuse me? I cannot help you are clumsy. It is you that is the cruel one.”
