Page 52 of Forgotten No More

Chapter 21

Ruby took in the crowded, smoke-filled room from beneath the cap pulled low to hide her feminine face. No amount of hair tucking and male attire could disguise her form. She’d never seen herself as overly curvacious, but once she’d donned men’s breeches it was apparent to all and sundry.

Alex had been correct when he’d said gaining access to White’s would be rather simple. All she’d had to do was nod to the man watching the back door and make her way to a room reserved especially for the livery of London’s elite. The drizzle and balmy wind had made it necessary for more coachmen to seek refuge in the club, forsaking the meager space in the stables.

After entering the back door, her fear of discovery subsided. Not a single person acknowledged her presence. She was outfitted in Drake livery of black and red.

“Good evening,” she mumbled to another passing servant, deepening her voice.

Vexing as it was to admit it, she wished Harold was with her. As much as she tried to deny it, both to herself and to him, the fact was that she felt better, safer, with Harold by her side—as though nothing truly dreadful could happen when he was near. Pushing the wayward thoughts from her mind, Ruby forced herself to return to her plan for the evening.

It was simple. The goal for tonight was to get a peek at the wager book that was such a huge part of White’s history. She was fast running out of potential fathers to investigate and her time in London could be up at any moment if anyone caught wind of her search. This wager book could potentially hold exactly the information she sought.

She’d overheard at supper the night before that the book was kept in an alcove in the main room, which made it better and more profitable for the club. Men could see when a new bet or wager was recorded and could levy their own coin by picking a side or certain odds.

There was bound to be something listed about her mother and father. It was highly unlikely their affair had gone unnoticed within London circles. Maybe a wager was placed that hadn’t found its way into the gossip mill. After gaining access to the book, Ruby would peruse the months before her birth to correlate any wager made within the time period of her mother’s affair. Possibly an unnamed woman linked to a wealthy lord. Lord Haversham had imparted at supper that often times individuals were identified by initials only. And a set of initials was more information to work with than she currently possessed.

The book must be massive in size to hold so many years of wagers, and most likely the volume holding entries before Ruby’s birth had long since been removed and replaced with a newer ledger. Alas, it was a possibility she needed to explore.

The task sounded easy enough until the alcove came in to view—and several men were crowded around it placing wagers and recording new bets.

Ruby knew she would not be able to remain undetected for an extended period of time, and this evening would likely be her only chance to search the book. She itched to touch it, turn the pages and discover something about herself. Hanging back, tucked in the shadows of the room far from the fire, and therefore separate from most of the men in attendance, she watched and bided her time. It would behoove her not to rush. She had all evening to gain access. Vi and Brock had left earlier in the evening for a dinner party. Her friend had begged her to accompany them, but said she understood Ruby’s request for a ‘few hours of solitude,’ claiming the demands of ton life were exhausting in the extreme.

“May I help you?”

She’d been so preoccupied glaring at the wager book and the crowd of men around it that she’d failed to notice the man standing next to her in the shadows.

She dropped her head, focusing on the floor at her feet, terrified the man would sound the alarm at a female presence within the establishment. “No, I await my lord.” She forced her words to remain deep, irritating her throat.

“And who might that be?” he asked.

Ruby refused to look up at the man, but his boots appeared expensive and his voice oddly familiar. She knew the marquis’ livery colors were recognizable by all. “The Marquis of Drake, m’lord.”

“Oh,” he said. “I had not noticed his attendance this evening.”

She should have known she’d be caught—and turned over to the magistrate for impersonating a livery servant and entering a club she was not a member of. Her list of crimes expanded almost daily. “Excuse me.” It wasn’t too late to take her leave and disregard her foolish plan. “I will await his departure with the other servants.”

Fingers tightened around her upper arm when she moved to leave.

“Not so fast, Miss Ruby.” She looked to the familiar face of Rodney Swiftenberg, Lord Haversham’s cousin and current heir to the Earldom. “Fancy meeting you here,” he hissed in her ear.

Dread washed over her.

Their stares held.

Ruby was not willing to give in to defeat, despite Rodney’s best attempts at intimidating her. It would not work. She wasn’t as easily intimidated as Vi had been the year before when Rodney had thought Vi was seeking out Brock’s attention with marriage in mind. Eventually, they had married—but that had never been Vi’s motive.

“What do you want?” she asked, deciding it was best to be forward with him. Chances were Ruby wouldn’t like his answer or have the means to assure his silence.

A cold draft slammed into Ruby when someone opened the entrance door to the club, admitting a group of men.

“Rodney! You filthy cheat!” a man from the newly arrived group called.

The next moment passed in a blur. One second she was staring Rodney down; the next she was laid flat on the floor, her cheek flaming in pain, unable to focus on the shouting men surrounding her. She pushed into a sitting position and attempted to scoot up against the closest wall and away from the tightly grouped men. Words flew about her as she tried to make sense of it all.

Her head ached and she almost fell back to the floor, dizzy.

She brought her hand to her throbbing cheek only to have her fingers tangle in her loose hair. Her hat had dislodged in her fall.