Page 73 of Forgotten No More

“And what path would that be?” his father asked. “To be a drunkard about town, living off the pity of Lord Haversham? How does he propose to support a family?”

Ruby had no answers for him. “I do not know, but one thing I do know is that it is not for you or me to decide or dictate for him.” She knew how it felt to have others constantly in charge of her life, making decisions for her, just as her mother had done by letting her believe that the baron was her true father, then leaving her to rot in the country. Just as Ellie had, deciding that the marquis was not worth knowing, taking away Ruby’s dream of meeting her true father, whether good or bad.

“Your father should be ashamed of the daughter he raised,” the vicar said. “Speaking to your elders as you do is the height of impropriety. You should be relegated to the country, where you cannot disgrace the good Sir St. Augustin’s memory further.”

“Father,” Harold said. Ruby flinched at the edge in his tone. “You will not speak to Miss Ruby in that manner. I think it is time for you to leave.”

“I will speak in any way I see fit to whomever I want, when it is warranted,” his father retorted. “I will depart as soon as you are ready.” With that, the vicar pushed past Ruby. His sure, heavy footfalls could be heard as he retraced his steps to the foyer, no doubt waiting for Harold to follow.

Before Ruby could stop him, Harold also pushed past her and out the door. She wanted to call after him, tell him that what his father thought and said was not important. He knew who he was and his worth—and so did she, which was all that mattered.

Before she could follow him, he pulled the door shut, closing her in the empty room.

Chapter 30

“Father!” Harold’s stride increased as he followed his father into the foyer. “How dare you speak to Ruby thus.”

His father halted a few steps from the front door. “Is it Ruby now? I see you’ve dispelled with formalities. My earlier assumptions were correct.” The vicar crossed his arms before him, unbearably smug. “Do you bed her at night? Like a common harlot?”

“Enough. You will cease treating me like a wayward child.”

“I only treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”

“The way I deserve to be treated?” Harold said, incredulous. “You do not know the first thing about how to treat a person with anything other than scorn and criticism.”

“You cannot possibly believe you deserve any more than that from me.”

“I do not care what you think I deserve. The woman behind that door definitely does not deserve your shoddy treatment. She is a guest in Lord Haversham’s home, and is to be treated as nothing less than a lady of excellent caliber and unquestionable reputation.”

For the first time, Harold stood up to his father, who remained quiet. Neither was aware when the balance of power had shifted, but for once Harold was unconcerned with his father’s reaction.

“And furthermore,” Harold continued. “I do not owe you anything, especially control over my future.”

His father laughed, sobering Harold further. “You are as I always believed you to be.”

“And what exactly is that?”

“Weak.”

Heat coursed through Harold—red, hot fury threatened to explode. “You can go to hell—and take your unjustified, self-righteous attitude with you. Leave this house and never—and I mean never!—think to insult any woman again, or I will personally deliver you to hell.”

“You think to sweep me out the door and never return home?”

“If and when I come it will be my decision, not yours.”

“How easily you break your mother’s heart.”

“She will be the only reason I may have cause to return. Now, you will leave this house and London entirely. If you send another missive, know I will burn it immediately.”

His father glared at him, rooted where he stood. “A man is nothing if he does not live up to his responsibilities.”

Harold met his father, glare for glare. “And a man is not a man if he cannot assess where his true responsibilities lie. My responsibilities—and my future—are here, possibly in the very next room.”

“You misguided fool!”

“You are the only fool here, Father.”

A movement from the stairway caught his attention and Harold spied several servants watching from the landing above.