Ruby's Gamble~De Wolfe Pack Connected World Page 3

  “Oh.” He smiled weakly as he looked at her. “I had a dream that he won. Your mother was so happy.”

  Ruby’s heart caught in her throat. Words to remind him that neither of those things was possible came to her lips, but to her relief, his eyes closed, telling her she needn’t bother.

  Sometimes, the line between memories and reality blurred for him. Whether his illness or the medicine caused the lapse, she didn’t know. Why not let him have a happy dream for the night? Perhaps it would allow him to sleep well, rather than wake with coughing spasms.

  Or to find a stranger on their sofa.

  Upset of any kind worsened his symptoms. With a sigh, she left him sleeping and closed his door to find Douglas hovering over Mr. de Wolfe.

  “What if Father rises and comes out here?” he asked as he ran a hand through his hair. “He’ll have our heads.”

  “We’ll have to hope he doesn’t.” She didn’t share what he’d said about his dream. That might encourage her brother to buy tickets again. Ruby knew a game of chance wouldn’t solve their problems. If only she knew what would.

  She wet a cloth and then eased onto the sofa beside Mr. de Wolfe. With careful movements, she tipped his head to the side, pleased to see the bleeding from his gash had nearly stopped.

  “Perhaps he should have stitches.”

  Douglas scoffed. “You and I both know our doctor won’t be making any calls unless we pay our bill. He’ll have to send for his own doctor when he returns home.”

  “You’re right.” The knowledge didn’t stop her guilt.

  She cleaned the cut along with his other wounds as best she could. Then she loosened his cravat and the top buttons of his shirt, hoping that would allow him to breathe better.

  Why hadn’t he come to his senses by now?

  “I’d better stay with him in case he wakes during the night,” Douglas said.

  “I’ll do it. If he wakes and recognizes you, he might assume the worst.” Keeping him from seeing Douglas was the best way to eliminate the risk of him firing her brother.

  “I still don’t like this,” Douglas said.

  “We don’t have a choice. Surely he’ll wake come morning. If he doesn’t—” She swallowed hard at the thought before continuing, “I’ll send a message to the earl’s residence. If he’s not staying there, a servant will know who to contact. One of his servants can fetch him.”

  Douglas nodded.

  “You’ll have to leave before he wakes in the morning.” She drew a deep breath. “All will be well. You’ll see.”

  “Why don’t you get a blanket and pillow? I’ll watch over him for a moment.”

  Ruby rose to fetch a pillow and two blankets from her room, pausing to loosen her hair but left on her gown. If Mr. de Wolfe woke in the night, she didn’t want him to find her dressed for bed.

  She returned to find Douglas leaning over Mr. de Wolfe. He quickly straightened, wearing a guilty expression though she couldn’t imagine why.

  “You have everything you need?” Douglas whispered.

  “Yes.” She placed the blanket over their patient. “Hopefully, he won’t stir until morning.”

  “I’d be surprised if he did.” Douglas kissed her cheek. “Wake me if you have a need. Good night.”

  Ruby stared after her brother, his enigmatic smile causing her concern. Unable to guess her brother’s thoughts, she settled into the chair next to the sofa, wondering what she could tell Mr. de Wolfe come morning.

  Someone struck Gideon in the head with a hammer. He was certain of it. The pounding refused to let him sleep. He opened his eyes slowly, aware of aches in other parts of his body as well.

  What the hell had happened? A deep fog held his thoughts, not allowing him to think straight. Nor could he quite remember. Had he overindulged in drink? That seemed unlikely. His mind filled with vague memories of a crowded pub filled with unfamiliar and unfriendly faces.

  Except for one.

  A beautiful woman with a rose-colored shawl who’d watched him with wary interest. If the circumstances had been different—not that he could remember them—he would’ve approached her, talked to her, charmed her into smiling.

  At the moment, lethargy filled him, and he couldn’t bring himself to care that he rested in a strange place. He turned his head only to have the hammer strike harder, causing him to groan.

  “Hush,” a feminine voice whispered. A cool hand touched the side of his face gently as though to comfort him. “All is well,” the soft voice promised. “Go back to sleep.”

  Groggily, he searched for the source of the voice in the dark room but could only make out the outline of a woman. “Where am I?”

  “You’re safe and well cared for,” she whispered. “But you must return to sleep.”

  For some odd reason, Gideon trusted her, though he couldn’t say why. His body relaxed and his eyes drifted closed. But curiosity as to the identity of his rescuer opened his eyes again. “Who are you?”

  She drew even closer, and the sweet scent of gardenias enveloped him. “I’m here to watch over you. But you must rest.”

  “Not until you give me a kiss.” The idea pleased him immensely. How clever of him to think of such a brilliant notion despite the murkiness in his mind.

  The sweet voice chuckled softly, a note of unease in it. She was obviously surprised by his request. That made two of them.

  “No kisses. Sleep.”

  “One kiss,” he argued.

  “Sleep.” Her fingers glided over his forehead to his temple and along his sore cheek, making him wince slightly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  He reached for her hand and caught it, delighted at his small victory. Her skin felt delicate and soft except for a callus along one finger. He rubbed the spot, for the roughness made her feel real. Then he pulled her closer, hoping to see her features in the dark.

  Clear thinking was impossible with the pounding in his head and the fog swallowing his thoughts, but he wanted to see her. Needed to see her. Couldn’t rest until he did.

  Her features came into focus in the window’s dim light. Recognition came slowly just like his thoughts. “I know you.” But how or why he couldn’t say.

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “Then you must know you’re safe, and that we mean you no harm.”

  His mind turned that over, poking at it like a sore tooth, and found it felt true.

  “Sleep now.” She tried to pull away, but he held tight.

  “One kiss,” he whispered. “Then I shall sleep again.”

  Her hand tensed and tried to pull away once more, but he resisted.

  “Very well. If you promise to rest.”

  He would’ve nodded in agreement, but his head hurt too much. He waited, rewarded when she leaned close and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

  “No, not there,” he said, certain she’d purposely misinterpreted his request. He wasn’t so dull-witted as to permit that.

  “Where then?” she asked, her voice breathless in the quiet.

  With her hand still held prisoner in his, he reached up and tapped a finger to his lips. “Here. That’s where kisses go.”

  “Very well.” Her whisper held disapproval, but she leaned close and warm lips pressed his for a long moment.

  A mix of tenderness and longing calmed his pounding head, and he wanted to savor the kiss as he knew it was special. Kisses from angels always were.

  Then the mist returned to claim him.

  Chapter Three

  A rough shake on the shoulder woke Ruby the next morning. The sensation was so at odds with the sweetness of her dreams that she woke with a start, disoriented.

  Douglas stared at her, the intensity of his gaze giving her a second jolt. “Did he wake?” he asked with the barest whisper.

  As the memory of the kiss flooded her, heat filled her cheeks. “No, he didn’t.”

  But she couldn’t meet Douglas’ eyes as she said the lie.

  “I didn’t think he would,
” Douglas said with a satisfied smile. “I gave him a bit of Father’s laudanum.”

  “Why would you do such a thing?” That, along with the blow to his head, had to be the reason Gideon de Wolfe had demanded a kiss. For some reason, the thought disappointed her.

  “To make certain he didn’t wake and cause a stir.” Douglas studied the sleeping man. “You’ll have to get him out of here as quickly as you can. It’s nearly seven o’clock.”

  “I will.” Though a glance at him suggested he wouldn’t rise anytime soon. “He has to leave before Father wakes.”

  “I’ll go now. Tell Father I’ll see him this afternoon.”

  Though working on Sunday wasn’t ideal, Douglas often managed to find work as a casual docker for the day to earn extra money. His position as a clerk paid a decent wage, but the doctor’s bills had left them in debt.

  He turned away only to look back. “I’ll send a hansom cab to pick him up. Be certain he’s awake.”

  Ruby nodded, watching as he slipped out the door. She pressed her hands to her warm cheeks as she stared at Gideon. Somehow, she couldn’t think of him as Mr. de Wolfe any longer. It didn’t matter that the kiss hadn’t meant anything. Laudanum? No wonder Gideon had seemed to have lost his senses.

  She prepared for the day, keeping one eye on her temporary guest as she heated water for tea. She checked on her father, pleased he still slept. Hoping he wouldn’t leave his room before their guest departed, she set a plate of bread and cheese beside his bed for his breakfast along with a weak pot of tea, then returned to the main room.

  Strangely reluctant to touch Gideon, she reached out and pressed his shoulder, unable to delay the moment any longer.

  His long lashes fluttered as his eyes opened, much to her relief. But she wasn’t prepared for the weight of his regard. The force of those golden hazel eyes swirled through her, curling her toes.

  She blinked to regain her senses. “Good morning.” She forced a smile. “How are you feeling?”

  His brow furrowed as he pondered her question. “Terrible.”

  Alarmed, she studied him closer. “Your head? Should I send for a doctor?”

  “I hurt in more places than I can count, but nothing life-threatening, I think.” Before she could say anything more, he asked, “Who are you?”

  Though she’d rehearsed this moment several times while she’d sat awake in the middle of the night, she was still at a loss for words. “Ruby,” she offered, hoping to avoid mentioning her surname. “I was at The Sail and Anchor Public House last night when you were hurt.”

  She waited a moment, wondering if he remembered what happened. When he continued to stare at her, she added, “A fight broke out.”

  Awareness came slowly over his expression. “The lottery.”

  “Yes. I was told you were asking questions, and they didn’t care for them.” Not wanting to dwell on those details any longer than necessary, she returned the topic to him. “You have a gash on the back of your head which may require stitches. A doctor should probably examine the cut to be certain.”

  He wiggled his jaw as if it were sore, too.

  “Do you think you can rise?” she asked in an effort to hurry him along.

  Rather than answering, he propped himself on his elbows gingerly, before shifting his feet to the floor. His face paled at the movement.

  “Too much?” she asked. She certainly hoped not. Father would rise soon, and Gideon needed to be gone.

  “A moment, if you please.” He returned his attention to her, his brow furrowed. “You helped me leave the pub?”

  She nodded. “We would’ve returned you home, but no one knew where you were staying.”

  He cleared his throat. “It was kind of you to allow me to stay here.” His gaze swept over the room, and she stiffened in response.

  Their modest home must seem small and sparse compared to his usual accommodations. But she lifted her chin, refusing to be embarrassed. It was all they had, and they took care of it as best they could.

  To her surprise, his expression revealed nothing of the disdain she’d expected. “I would like to repay you for your kindness.”

  “There’s no need.”

  “On the contrary,” he insisted. “Heaven only knows where I might have ended up if not for you.”

  The image of the Thames nearly made her shudder. “I’m just pleased you’re awake. Your staff must be wondering what became of you.” Was that enough of a hint that he should be on his way? She hesitated, wondering if she should offer him something to eat but couldn’t bring herself to give him the same bread and cheese she’d left for her father. That seemed far too simple fare for a de Wolfe.

  “Of course.” He edged to the front of the sofa only to pause as if his head might still be spinning. Then he rose to his feet to tower over her.

  Her breath left her lungs in a whoosh. She’d almost forgotten how big he was. The room suddenly felt even smaller. She turned away to retrieve his jacket from the peg by the door next to her shawl and helped him put it on. The movement felt intimate, something a wife might do for her husband. She shoved away the unbidden thought.

  “We ordered a hansom cab for you which should arrive shortly.” She walked to the window to look out, relieved to see the driver pull up before the house. “In fact, it’s here now.”

  “Are you sure I can’t offer you something?” he asked. “I would be pleased to compensate you for all the trouble.”

  “You being on your feet is reward enough,” she said with a sincere smile. “I was worried when you didn’t wake last evening.”

  He placed a hand on the back of his head and winced. “I don’t think I will be wearing a hat for a time.”

  “No, I don’t suppose. I hope your recovery is a quick one,” she offered, uncertain what else to say.

  His tightened lips softened into a semblance of a smile. “Thanks to you, I am sure it will be.”

  Her father started coughing in the other room. His congestion was always worse in the morning.

  Gideon glanced at the closed bedroom door, one brow raised in question.

  “My father needs his medicine.” Never mind that the bottle sat on his bedside table.

  She hated to be rude, but she needed this unsettling man to leave so her world could return to normal. So that she could forget the handsome man who had spent the night on her sofa.

  And she especially needed to forget that kiss. Her gaze dropped to his lips. When she realized what she’d done, she jerked her gaze upwards to see a broader smile that suggested he remembered it, too.

  “Thank you again, Ruby.”

  Her name on his lips sent tingles along her spine. “You’re welcome.”

  Yes, he definitely needed to go.

  By the morning of the second day after the fight, Gideon determined he’d recovered well enough from the cut and bruises to return to his duties. The gash on his head still gave him trouble though the doctor had stitched it closed. The blasted spot hurt like the devil and made the idea of wearing a hat impossible. The occasional bouts of dizziness and nausea were also concerning, but the doctor said they’d soon pass.

  “Going somewhere?” James asked as Gideon reached for his shirt. He’d served as Gideon’s valet since Gideon had turned eighteen and nearly always accompanied him on trips. The servant watched over him like a mother hen. He’d apparently been beside himself with worry when Gideon hadn’t returned to the townhouse that he preferred over Marcus’ much larger residence.

  “I believe I’ve rested enough. I feel much better today.” Gideon refused to allow the incident to change his course. It only made him more determined to find the truth about the drawing and who was behind the scheme.

  “Surely you’re not going to the docks again.” The disapproval in James’ tone couldn’t be ignored as he helped Gideon dress.

  James had been appalled when Gideon had returned home with numerous bruises and the deep gash on his head. The servant wanted to contact the police but Gideon
refused. He didn’t know who had been involved in the fight and didn’t have any evidence to present about the lottery.

  “Of course I’m going to the docks. That is the whole purpose of my trip to London.”

  “I must protest.” Still, James retrieved Gideon’s boots and placed them by his chair.

  Gideon sat and pulled on a boot only to pause. Even the small effort made his head spin. Perhaps having company wouldn’t be such a bad thing. “Then by all means, come along with me.”

  “Very well.” James turned on his heel and left the room.

  Gideon shook his head as he completed dressing. When he left his bedroom, James entered the hall dressed in less formal attire than his usual suit.

  “You are serious?” Gideon asked.

  “If I returned home without you in good health, whatever would your mother say?”

  Gideon chuckled as James spoke the truth. He preferred not to displease her either.

  “You truly need not worry. I intend to take better care when I make additional inquiries.” He’d had plenty of time to consider alternative ways to gain answers. Though his path wasn’t yet clear, he didn’t intend to be on the losing end of another fight. He’d prefer to avoid one altogether.

  He’d shared some of the details with James, pleased to have another person’s opinion on the situation. James believed the lottery was a scheme as well.

  “You’re going to continue to pursue this?”

  “As the lottery is hurting our workers, yes. I want to get to the bottom of it. But I promise to take greater care.”

  James lifted his chin. “I intend to help you take greater care as well, sir.”

  Gideon led the way downstairs and ate as he looked over The Times. But he had difficulty concentrating on the day’s headlines. That couldn’t be blamed solely on him. A pair of wide, dark eyes set in a heart-shaped face distracted him.

  Ruby.

  He thought of her often. In fact, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Her beauty and determination had caught his eye as she’d made her way through the crowd in the clubroom. The rose-colored shawl—at odds with the drab gray gown she wore—echoed the pink of her cheeks. She’d walked through the room with such purpose. Perhaps that had been what first caught his eye. She hadn’t been there to buy a ticket. He’d bet his life on that. He’d felt an uncanny, instant connection with her.