Page 112 of A Well-Trained Lady

Mrs. Brundage nodded. “We all would have.”

“Miss Whitmore will be an exceptional addition. Far better than I ever could have been.” I glanced out the window, but the happy couple was no longer in sight. My heart began racing, and I quickly moved forward, giving Mrs. Brundage and Sarah a hug before stopping in front of Ruth. “How dear you are to me. I hope you know that.”

She wrapped her arms around me so tightly, I never wanted to leave. But I needed to before I would be forced to face Augustus in my disappointment. My strength was spent. I could not bear it. I would write to him and tell him of Papa’s revelation. I pulled back from Ruth, tears threatening to fall. “I shall be in touch.”

Ruth gave a pout. “You are leaving already? But you have just arrived.”

“I know. But I cannot stay longer.” I swallowed, taking a few steps away. “I only came to apologize to all of you, and now I must be on my way.”

“That is the only reason you came all this way?” Augustus’s voice came from behind.

I did not turn around. I could not bear to look at him and remember the embrace he had just shared with Miss Whitmore, nor the whispers of their engagement I had heard. Instead, I glanced to the side, my gaze fixed on the ground. “I did wish to speak to you, but it seems I have come at an inconvenient time. I can pen you a letter instead.”

“I’d prefer to hear what you have to say in person.”

Mrs. Brundage shooed Ruth and Sarah out the door. “We will let the two of you speak in private.”

Realizing it would be ridiculous to continue facing an empty room, I slowly turned toward him. Augustus leaned against the doorframe, his wary eyes on me. “What is it you wish to discuss?”

I glanced behind him, wondering if Miss Whitmore had returned home to announce their betrothal to her soon-to-be delighted mother. Had their embrace been one of farewell or would she be joining him here momentarily? “Are you certain I am not imposing on you?”

He hesitated, then pushed himself off the wall and started toward me. “I’m not certain. But I’ll let you know if that changes.”

I gestured behind him with my chin. “You may want to shut the door.”

He paused, glancing behind him. “And why is that?”

I lowered my voice. “Ruth should not overhear us.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he moved to the door and closed it. “Better?”

I nodded.

“Now what is it that has you acting so mysteriously?”

“I know what happened to Ruth’s parents.”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, you know?”

I retrieved the letter from the reticule I clutched and held it out to him. “Read that.”

His gaze darted from the letter to me and back again before he carefully took hold of it, avoiding contact with my hand. He unfolded it, and I watched as his eyes moved over the words, his brow drawn low. When he finished, he looked at me. “Where did you get this?”

“It was sent to my father the day your aunt died, only my mother got hold of it first. She used it to coerce him into abiding by her demands, threatening to reveal the truth if he did not comply. One of the things she demanded was keeping Ruth and you from me. In return, Mother would not hand over the letter to the authorities, ensuring your aunt was not disinterred and subjected to the standard self-murder burial. The very idea of someone Papa loved so dearly enduring such an awful fate was too much. He could not oppose Mother.”

Augustus skimmed the letter again.

“I only ask that if you decide to use it to substantiate Ruth’s case, then you say it was found at Blacksley when you were going through papers. Papa said withholding evidence can be punishable by hanging, and though you may think my mother or even my father deserves such a fate, I beseech you to refrain from retribution. Though I understand ultimately it is up to you what you do with it, as well as whether or not you will tell Ruth.”

Augustus drew in a long breath, releasing it in a quick puff. “There was a part of me that always wondered if this was the truth of it.” He lifted the letter and gave it a slow shake. “The day of their deaths, I noticed Aunt Susan’s lingering gaze on Ruth time and time again. There was so much love in her eyes … and there was sorrow.” He dropped his head, his thumb and forefinger settling on the bridge of his nose.

Not certain how to comfort him in his grief, or if it was my place to do so at all, I wrapped my arms around my midsection and waited patiently.

“Forgive me.” Augustus’s head lifted a touch, though his focus remained on the letter. “And what would you do with this evidence?”

“I thought about it some on my journey from Branbury, and I simply do not know. On one hand, it could right the injustice of Ruth losing her inheritance.”

“But?”