AN: Thanks for all your reviews, and here's the next part of the story...
Miss Evershed seated herself gratefully at the dinner table, thanking the Lord that they had no dinner engagements to attend that evening. The day had been spent in helping Beth to receive continuous calls of congratulation, which had been punctually paid by most of their large acquaintance, the notice of the engagement having appeared in the Post of that morning. Elizabeth had been glowing throughout, and, had she needed it, Captain Levendis had called for a full hour to lend his betrothed the support and care that her aunt, rather than herself, was wanting.
Ruth's feelings about the engagement had been oscillating between joy for Beth - tempered by her trifling concerns regarding the match - and her own unconquerable feelings of self-pity. Despite Edward's reserve and occasional gruffness, and the foibles and difficulties attached to raising four children, three of them boys, Ruth realised that she had been happy for the past sixteen years. In any case, she had had very little time for unhappiness, although low spirits had sometimes crept in. Now, all was at an end. Marriage was impossible, no matter how much Lady Radford coveted the long-held dream of seeing her goddaughter comfortable settled. Employment would have to be found, and quickly. She could not expect Edward to tolerate her presence in his household for any longer than it took to see Elizabeth joined in matrimony to her handsome Captain.
The meal was eaten in silence, Ruth too weary, Beth too much engaged in daydreams about her fiancee, and Edward simply too unwilling, to make conversation. At last, it was over. Beth rose, glancing expectantly at her aunt, but Ruth remained seated. "If I might speak with you for a moment, Edward?" she asked lightly. Her brother-in-law glanced up in surprise, and after a moment of silence, nodded his assent. Leaning back in his chair, a habit Ruth had always inexplicably detested in him, he addressed Beth with, "Excuse us, Elizabeth. We shall join you presently." His daughter left the room quietly, wondering if she could practice the pianoforte in such a way as to allow her to listen surreptitiously to whatever conversation was being held in the dining room.
Ruth nervously clasped and unclasped her hands in her lap. This was the first time she had ever requested a private interview with her brother-in-law. Indeed, it was one of the few times that they had been alone together, since that ill-fated day when he had misguidedly asked for her hand. "Miss Evershed, I would be honoured if you would consent to make me the happiest of men and become my wife."
"Forgive me, sir, I cannot accept your proposals."
"Ma'am - "
"To marry you would be impossible. I am unable to return your affection. I can express myself in no clearer terms. I have done you the courtesy of speaking my mind honestly, and I would beg that you do me the courtesy of accepting what I say."
The words seemed to reverberate around the room from twenty years ago.
"I gather you wish to speak to me about Elizabeth," Edward began coolly.
She nodded. "In a manner of speaking." He sipped his glass of port thoughtfully, waiting for his self-possessed assistant of so many years to frame her next sentence. It was ironic that, having wished for her to be his companion and helpmeet and the sharer of his home all those years ago, he had been discomforted and even sometimes irked by her presence as his sister after the death of the woman he had eventually married. Slowly, Ruth spoke. "Once Elizabeth is married, I can have no reason to remain here. You, I assume, will be glad to be relieved of my company?"
His eyes widened. "Forgive me," he murmured courteously, "if I have ever given you the idea of ingratitude or displeasure on my part. It was most certainly not intended." She smiled kindly at him, and smoothed a fold in her satin gown.
"You have never been displeased or ungrateful," she reassured him. "Even when you had reason to be." The meaning of her afterthought was not lost on him, but he maintained his silence. Again, she paused before speaking. "I will leave your house once Elizabeth is settled. I plan to gain employment, as a governess, or a companion. I thought that this ought to be made clear to you, so that you can… make arrangements, for after the wedding."
Edward swallowed and drained his glass. "Thank you for informing me of your intentions. Your honesty does you credit."
She rose. "I have always been honest with you, Edward." At the door, she turned back. "I would appreciate your secrecy in this matter. I will inform Beth of my plans when I see fit. She does not require my ill tidings at present." Her brother-in-law bowed his head in silent acquiescence and poured himself another glass of port. Ruth hesitated on the threshold of the dining room, waiting for him to follow her, until Edward looked at her again. He smiled stiffly at her, the first smile in twenty years. "I shall be in directly, Ruth."
"Mrs Rosalind North, ma'am." Yates, the Bailey's butler, was well used to this visitor, as was Miss Evershed, who rose to greet her. Her tall, blonde visitor swept in neatly, a vision in an afternoon gown of cream silk, which quite put to shame Ruth's own dark blue kerseymere gown. She regarded Ruth with a critical eye, before accepting the outstretched hand and returning the curtsey which had been promptly given. "You look far too pale," she greeted Ruth bluntly. "That niece of yours is taking up far too much of your time and energy, Ruth." The two women had been fellow inmates at the same boarding school for several of their formative years, and Rosalind, icily intrusive at the best of times, took this as permission to criticise or give her blessing to whatever Ruth did.
"Thank you, Rosalind," Ruth replied wryly, well used to the nuances of her old acquaintance. 'Friend' had never seemed an appropriate word to use to describe Mrs North. Perhaps the knowledge that she was a branch on one of the richest, most prosperous family trees in England had given Rosalind her almost arrogant self-confidence and ability to ruthlessly administer a set-down to anyone who did not meet with her exacting standards of wit, elegance or birth. Ruth had always counted herself fortunate that she herself did. The two women sat.
"I imagine I should offer my congratulations to Miss Bailey," she offered at last. Ruth's mouth twitched up. She knew all too well Rosalind's opinion of Beth, first expressed on Elizabeth's arrival in town last year, and repeated at regular intervals since then: "Vain, silly, forward and thoughtless. Her only saving grace is having her mother's beauty and your protection."
"Beth is not at home at present. She has gone driving with Captain Levendis and his aunt. I expect her to return for luncheon, however." Rosalind sniffed, her disapproval clear. Ruth could not understand what Major Lucas North, her husband, whose severe wounds at the Battle of Albuera last year had forced him to take a desk position in the War Office, had ever found in Rosalind's decidedly uninviting manner to compel him to pursue her for three years before their eventual marriage. The challenge, perhaps, she mused. Rosalind pursed her lips, and confided, "I imagined Dimitri Levendis to have a great deal of good sense. Clearly I was mistaken. You should be pleased, Ruth - Miss Bailey has been very lucky to attach such a man to the point of matrimony. But then, I suppose stranger things have happened on the Marriage Mart."
Ruth frowned. Rosalind always said exactly what she thought about everyone. If anyone else in the ton said such things, about such people, they would risk being ostracised. But then, Rosalind was the sort of person who gave, rather than received, social wounds. "That is unfair," she cautioned Rosalind. "Elizabeth has many good qualities, and it is not at all surprising that she should have formed an attachment with such a worthy man as Captain Levendis."
Rosalind shook herself disagreeably. "I did not call to quarrel with you about your niece. I came to invite you to a small dinner on Wednesday evening, for some old military acquaintances of my husband. Lady Radford has agreed to attend, and Captain Levendis and his sister. I would be delighted if you would attend, and you may bring Miss Bailey and her father too, if you wish." The manner in which the invitation was given caused Ruth's smile to widen. "We are not engaged on Wednesday evening - I would be glad to come, Rosalind."
"Good," she replied briskly, rising to take her leave. "I'm sure it will do you good, Ruth."
Even three hours later, when Beth returned, flushed and happy, from her ride, Ruth was still unsure as to exactly what this parting shot had meant.
AN: Next time, the appearance of Harry...