Page 47 of Save Us
Hasty decisions are part of growing up. I’m prepared to overlook the whole thing if you come to the board meeting on Monday at three. It’s been added to your calendar. Don’t let me down.
Yours sincerely,
Mortimer Beaufort
I delete Dad’s email without replying. My pulse started racing the moment I saw it in my inbox, but all I can do now is shake my head. He couldn’t even spare the time for a greeting, or to change his standard sign-off, even to his son. To be honest, I’m not surprised that he thinks I acted on the spur of the moment. He’s spent years ignoring all the evidence that I don’t want anything to do with Beaufort’s.
And the fact that he’s emailed now, not to ask me to come home, but to save face in front of the board, only confirms that I did the right thing.
And one day, it will stop hurting. I’m sure of that.
I put the phone down beside me on the bed and look around the room that Ophelia has given Ruby and me. It’s the guest room that Lydia and I always used to stay in when we came for a visit. Even then, we were confused by the mishmash of furniture that couldn’t have been more different from our house in Pemwick—the floral wallpaper, divan bed, and heavy velvet curtains that are far too long all give the impression that Ophelia had been picking stuff off the street and then finding a use for it at home. But I’ve always felt comfortable here.
My phone buzzes, breaking into my thoughts. Another email has come in, and when I see the sender’s name, every muscle in my body tenses for the second time today.
It’s from Cyril.
Cautiously, I unlock the screen.
I’m sorry.
That’s it. I gulp hard and open the attachment. One by one, the photos I took of Ruby and Mr. Sutton are downloaded. They’re the originals. I can see that at once. I sigh with relief, although the sight of the pictures makes me feel queasy.
I remember exactly what I was thinking and feeling when I took them. I didn’t know what kind of person Ruby was, and I wanted to protect Lydia, to make sure nobody could ever hurt her so badly again. I didn’t care about the consequences if the photos went public.
Phone in hand, I walk to the narrow door to the en suite bathroom. I knock.
“Come in,” says Ruby.
I open the door. “You’ll never believe what…” I begin, but the words get stuck in my throat.
I’d assumed that Ruby would have had a shower and that she’d be dressed. But she’s sitting in the large corner bath. Her hair is up in a bun. The strands that have come loose are curled damply at the nape of her neck. I swallow hard as my eyes take on a life of their own and stray downward. Drops of water glisten on her bare shoulders, and although the bath is practically overflowing with bubbles, I can see her skin peeking through here and there.
“Is everything OK?” Ruby asks with a frown, sitting up slightly.
I clear my throat. “Cyril’s sent me the original photos,” I croak in the end, holding up the phone.
“Seriously?” Ruby squeaks in disbelief, leaning forward slightly to get a better view of the screen. “I’d almost given up hope.”
“I said it would all work out in the end,” I say hoarsely.
The sight of her wet body is totally distracting me, and I can’t think straight. I cough again.
“So, what do we do now?” she asks after a while. I realize that her voice sounds just as rough as mine.
I should probably leave now.
“I’ll give them to Lydia. I should do that right away. We can talk about it later. I didn’t mean to barge in on you. You just relax.” I turn, and I’m about to walk through the door when Ruby’s voice makes me pause.
“James?” she asks, barely audibly. But it hits home like lightning.
I make a questioning sound as I turn back to her. Her cheeks are flushed, and she clears her throat now too.
“Wouldn’t you…wouldn’t you like to stay?”
I gulp dryly and open my mouth, but I’ve lost the power of speech.
Ruby’s face reddens even further. “But you don’t have to. I…”
