Page 31 of To Dance with a Devil

“Oh dear,” Ruth said, her own throat tightening. “Oh, I had so hoped I was wrong, but I’m not, am I? You’re… You’re….”

To her dismay, Bonnie’s eyes went wide as she realised what Ruth was implying, and she promptly turned the ghastliest shade of sickly green. “No,” she breathed, so horrified Ruth feared she would swoon. “No! How… How did you know? Oh, my Lord, everyone will know before long, if they don’t already. I must leave.”

She sprang to her feet, but Ruth clung to her hand, forcing her to stay put.

“You’re going nowhere,” she said, surprising Bonnie with the force of her words.

Ruth bit her lip. She knew well enough she was a managing creature; indeed, bossy would not be too strong a term to apply to her. Though she did her best to hide such dreadful character flaws, it was in her nature to take charge, especially when people were being so obviously thick-headed.

“But Ruth,” Bonnie pleaded, her voice quavering. “I ran away because I dared not bring such shame to your door. I only came to Matilda because Jerome insisted, and I meant to leave in a few days but… but if you and Lady Helena have already guessed—”

The two women jolted as the door opened once again.

“Mr Cadogan to see you, Miss Campbell.”

The butler went out again, and at once Ruth saw the look in Mr Cadogan’s eyes. Bonnie jumped to her feet, her expression one of sheer panic.

“Bonnie,” he said, his voice so tender Ruth almost sighed with relief.

“Oh no,” Bonnie said, and swayed.

Mr Cadogan moved before Ruth could even speak a warning and caught Bonnie up in his arms. Ruth rushed to get up and pull out a chair so that he could set her down. Bonnie slumped into it and Mr Cadogan sat before her, chafing her hands as Ruth searched out a vial of sal volatile from her reticule and waved it under Bonnie’s nose.

“Thank goodness you’ve come,” Ruth said, her relief palpable as Bonnie began to revive. “She was going to run away again. I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to stop her.”

“I’ll stop her,” Mr Cadogan said firmly. “I’m going to marry her.”

Ruth let out a sigh of relief. “Oh,” she said. “Oh, thank heavens, though I should have known you’d do the right thing.”

He snorted. “I have no idea why,” he muttered, giving Bonnie his full attention as she came around.

She sighed, her eyes flickering, and then a sob escaped her as she found Jerome on his knees before her, holding her hands.

“Oh, love,” he said, his voice aching with sorrow. “Oh, Bonnie, why didn’t you tell me?”

Ruth stood and turned away as Bonnie burst into tears.

“Oh, Jerome, no,” she sobbed. “D-Don’t be n-nice to me. It’s all my fault….”

“Don’t be such a goose,” he said, sounding amused now, though the words were full of tenderness. “Shall I beat you for letting me get you pregnant?”

“B-But you don’t w-want to marry me,” she wailed, sobbing harder.

“Oh, Bonnie, don’t take on so. I had to marry someone, and I’d rather marry someone I liked than some starchy lady with a vast dowry. At least you don’t expect me to behave, because you’re worse than I am.”

Bonnie stared at him for a long moment and then her lip wobbled, and she began to cry again.

It would seem Ruth’s company was suddenly de trop, and so she tucked the little vial back into her reticule and was halfway to the door when it opened yet again, and the butler appeared once more.

“Mr Gordon Anderson,” he intoned, betraying not a flicker of interest at this flurry of activity, whilst within the room the name was greeted with frigid silence and as much welcome as the knell of doom.

Ruth froze as the man strode in… at least, she thought it was a man. On second thought, it might have been a mountain.

She looked up, and up, and her breath caught in her throat. Ruth was very tall for a woman and solidly built. She always felt rather clumsy and somewhat Amazonian around most of her friends, who’d been made to much more delicate proportions. Beside this man she felt like a fairy nymph.

Never in all her days, had Ruth seen such a blatant representation of the male animal, and there was something undoubtedly animal about him. He appeared barely tame, with a mane of deep brown hair and eyes the colour of a cat’s. There was a day’s stubble darkening his strong jaw, and his presence seemed to eat up all the space in the room, shrinking it with the sheer force of his bulk.

Oh, my, thought Ruth. Oh my. Her knees felt distinctly odd.