Page 49 of Forgotten No More

“More like a man more stubborn and headstrong than said woman,” Harold felt compelled to say. His friend had tried to deny his attraction to his wife for so long he’d almost ruined what they currently had.

“What other types of wagers do men make at White’s?” Ruby asked. “I mean, other than children’s names and potential matches within London’s elite?”

Her interest sparked Harold’s attention. While Brock and Vi continued to laugh and make jokes, Ruby’s demeanor had become serious, and she listened intently.

Brock speared a piece of meat, brought it to his mouth and chewed as he searched for a particularly juicy bit of gossip found in the book. “Well, men wager about horse races, business endeavors, and the like.” Harold knew he intentionally kept the subject matter tame, not willing to speak of the more scandalous items bet upon by men.

“Come now,” Ruby prodded him. “There must be more interesting goings-on than that.”

Harold wondered what information she sought with her inquisitiveness. “You are correct, Miss Ruby.” Harold decided to bait the hook, so to speak, and see if he could glean any idea as to what the woman was up to. “They wager on anything from which singer will receive an encore performance at the opera to what the weather will be in a fortnight.”

“Now, Harold. You cannot share all of our dirty secrets or Vi will never let me out of the house again. And then I will miss all the fun.”

“There must be more important things than that in the wager book.” Ruby leaned her elbows on the table, enthralled.

“Oh my, yes!” Vi said. “I have heard there is a list of London’s mistresses and illegitimate children.”

“Shame on you, Lady Haversham,” Brock scolded. “To discuss such delicate topics in front of ladies is the height of impropriety. We must work on your decorum.”

“My decorum?” Her outrage didn’t quite match the smile on her face.

“You are a most unruly woman! I think it is best to hire a tutor to train you in the ways of London society,” Brock continued, Harold and Ruby all but forgotten.

“Well, it will be a huge undertaking, but I will volunteer,” Harold chimed in.

“Like hell you will,” Brock’s thundering voice filled the room. “I will rein in my own wife, thank you all the same.”

Harold laughed, his gaze returning to Ruby, who stared intently at nothing in particular. “Is your supper to your liking?” he asked. “Miss Ruby?”

She returned to the present. “It is very good.” She picked up her fork and continued eating.

As Brock and Vi fell back into their comfortable conversation and Ruby concentrated on her meal, Harold watched. He didn’t understand the woman, and try as he might, he couldn’t make her trust him enough to explain herself.

He vowed then to keep an eye on her, help her avoid getting herself into another predicament like the night in Drake’s house, or the evening not many nights before when she’d stumbled upon him in Lord Yorkton’s study. If she wasn’t careful, she was likely to be caught by someone other than himself.

Chapter 20

“All I am saying is that my stables are far superior to most found within England’s borders.” Brock racked the billiard balls for a new game after losing dreadfully to Harold.

Harold laughed. “You truly believe that mares raised by your lovely wife will produce the best foal this country has seen in over three decades?”

“It is an unstated, yet undeniable fact.”

“And you seek to convince every man in London of this fact?” Harold asked.

His friend went far beyond what was deemed acceptable spousal support. Lady Haversham could do no wrong in Brock’s eyes.

“Of course…and I will make a second fortune from it!”

Harold knew Brock’s insistence in supporting Lady Haversham’s horses had naught to do with the money to be made, and all to do with his soothing her hurt and loss over the closing of her foal ranch, Foldger’s Foals, the previous year. While the property was anything but fallow—it now housed Foldger’s Foundling House—his wife missed her previous life and purpose.

“I wish I’d had the funds available at the time to purchase a few myself,” Harold said. “But then I’d also need the coin for a stable…oh, and an estate on which to house said stable.”

“As I have said before, money, or the lack thereof, does not totally change one’s life.”

It had been hard to think of anything else but this since they’d spoken a few nights before. No, money would not change his life completely, but it would allow him freedom.

Harold stepped forward to take his shot. The pool stick moved smoothly through his fingers and the balls pinged off each other and rebounded off the sides, three landing in pockets.