Page 38 of Forgotten No More

He focused in on a familiar figure, staring back at him. He’d know those green eyes anywhere, but he had no idea why Ruby was milling about the general admission section. The crowd was a wholly unpredictable one, calm and laughing one moment, and in the next fighting and cursing.

Alarmed, he tried to locate Brock in the crowd or someone else she could be with, but no one stood close to her.

Harold stood from his chair and moved to the edge of the box, ready to yell down to her. Before he could say a word, she moved into the crowd. It was then that her outfit registered in his mind—a bright blue dress, topped by familiar, flaming red hair. The girl below was not Ruby at all, but the young woman from Drake’s home.

He took his seat again, determined to have a few words with Ruby when she returned.

But return she didn’t.

Brock and Lady Haversham entered the box as the lights dimmed and the actors returned to the stage.

“Where is Miss Ruby?” He kept his question quiet, not wanting to appear overly concerned. The woman had a knack for disappearing. “She stepped out a few moments after you.”

“Oh, yes, she met us in the reception area,” Lady Haversham said as she took her seat. “She spotted her mother in another box and was inclined to finish the play with her. I’m unsure why she would seek her company now, yet I am not inclined to dissuade her from associating with her own mother.”

Brock’s brow rose at him. “Don’t fret. She’ll be returned home safely by Vi’s father and Lady Darlingiver, never fear.”

“I’m unconcerned with her whereabouts,” Harold covered. “I only asked because her seat has a more agreeable view. Are you positive she will not be returning?” When Brock shook his head, Harold moved to her seat to continue the ruse.

The rest of the play dragged on. He again searched every box for her—also keeping an eye on the general admission section for the girl. Both were nowhere to be seen.

Neither did he spot a box with Lord Oberbrook or Lady Darlingiver.

Harold could only imagine the trouble Ruby was getting herself into now, but there was little he could do at the moment. When the play was over, he thanked Brock and Lady Haversham for inviting him, but declined to continue on with them to their next destination, in favor of returning to the townhouse. He hoped to find Ruby safely in her room—although he knew his chances of that were slim.

The butler had the front door open before he’d even jumped down from the hack. After tossing a few coins, the driver ambled off into the evening.

“Good evening, Mr. Jakeston.”

“Good evening, Buttons,” Harold said. “Has Miss Ruby returned for the evening?”

“Yes. She retired to her room immediately upon arriving home.” If he thought Harold’s inquiry was odd, he didn’t let on. “Would you like me to send word for her to join you downstairs?”

“No, thank you.” The servant sent on that mission would most likely return empty handed; it had been easy for Ruby to slip out of the house unnoticed on more than one occasion recently. He didn’t want to alert the household if she’d done it again.

He took the stairs two at a time and turned down the hall, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the butler hadn’t followed him. When the coast was clear, he continued past his door, down the hall, and turned left—and ran into exactly the person he sought.

“Pardon me—” she started before realizing who she’d run into. “Are you following me?”

“Would you be angry if I were?”

“Of course.” She stepped back, her hands on her hips in displeasure. “I cannot seem to extricate myself from your presence no matter how hard I try.”

“Why are you avoiding my company?” He didn’t want to admit it—and he never would to another person—but her leaving him at the playhouse had bruised his ego. “I understand my conversational skills are a bit rusty—”

“It’s not that.” She sighed. “I have things to do this evening that did not include Vi or Lord Haversham—or you, for that matter. Now please step aside.”

The only person who’d ever succeeded in dismissing him in a more cutting fashion was his own father. “I most certainly will not step aside. You are too daring for your own good, and I fear you have gotten into something that may very well have you seeing the gallows before long.” He took in her dark clothes, made all the grimmer with the lack of light in the hall. “The fact that you’re dressed like nothing more than a common burglar would seem to confirm my suspicions.”

Ruby looked down at her plain, sturdy gray wool dress. Perfect if one needed to blend into the shadows.

Harold’s brow rose in question, daring her to deny the reason behind her attire.

“I most certainly am not dressed like a burglar.”

“Then may I ask where you are going?”

“No, you may not.”