A Matchmaking Mismatch (Romance Retold #3)

Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

P hilip felt surprisingly calm as he awaited the arrival of the guests in Upper Brook Street. They had chosen the day well, for the rain pattered in a steady stream outside, making the inducement of a cozy night indoors more appealing than ever.

Alice had taken on her role as hostess with alacrity and was busying herself with some last-minute instructions to the cook, while Ruth was still dressing upstairs. She and Philip had been discussing the plans for the evening when Alice’s carriage had arrived—much earlier than anticipated—and Ruth had been obliged to hurry upstairs to change from a dress to the more suitable male attire that would be expected by all in attendance. The last thing they needed was to create the stir that would inevitably be caused by Alice seeing Ruth dressed as a woman. Philip wondered with a bit of curiosity whether she would even recognize Ruth as the Mr. Ruth she had met before.

As Ruth came down the stairs, Philip approached her, chuckling softly at the sight of her in pantaloons, boots, and a waistcoat.

“Good evening, Mr. Ruth,” Philip said in an undervoice, glancing quickly at his sister, who was still spouting off a list of commands to the slightly harried looking servant. Poor chap.

Ruth gave an annoyed tug at her cravat. “I shall be very happy when I can say goodbye once and for all to these devices of persecution.”

Philip frowned and slipped a finger between her cravat and the shirt collar. “You have tied it too tight.”

Ruth sent him an irritable look. “Not all of us have valets who have perfected the art of cravat-tying, my lord .” She used a finger to push the spectacles back up onto the bridge of her nose.

Philip narrowed his eyes at them. “Do you even need those? You haven’t worn them since”—he looked at Alice again to make sure she wasn’t listening—“the duel.”

Ruth gave him a wary look. “It depends upon how much the answer shall anger you.”

He sighed and pulled them from her face, inspecting them with a light tap on the lenses. “Plain glass?”

Ruth looked sheepish. “They were instrumental to the disguise.”

He handed them back to her with a look full of meaning. “The list of lies grows.”

She lowered her head in faux meekness, and he chucked her under the chin teasingly. He had found it too easy to maintain the familiarity that had flourished between them prior to the discovery of the truth. She might look quite different to the man Philip had made friends with, but she acted very much the same. “Those ridiculous things should have alerted me that something suspect was going on.”

She laughed, and he thought he saw a slight blush to her cheeks in the candlelit hall. “Well, once you had seen me with them at our first meeting, I could hardly stop wearing them. Neither could I continue wearing Topher’s reading glasses.”

“Is that what those were?”

She nodded. “They gave me the most oppressive headache imaginable.”

“Could you see through them?”

She smiled. “Not a blessed thing. You were nothing more than an insufferable blur to me.”

His laugh was interrupted by a sharp intake of breath from Alice behind them.

“They are here!” She scurried over and turned Philip toward her, straightening his cravat and smoothing his coat. “I think you should have chosen a different color of waistcoat, but I suppose there is no helping that now. We will have to hope that Miss Devenish likes that particular shade of brown.”

Philip sent a long-suffering glance at Ruth, who was trying not to smile.

The bell rang, and Alice shooed them into the drawing room, following behind. “I shall endeavor to keep Mrs. Devenish occupied, and Mr. Ruth, perhaps you may engage to do the same with Miss Parkham, so that Philip and Miss Devenish can have time to…further their acquaintance.” She sent them a significant glance then shushed them, as if they had been the ones speaking.

The door opened, and a footman announced, “Mrs. Devenish, Miss Devenish, and Miss Parkham.”

As promised, Alice went directly to Mrs. Devenish, greeting her with a grace and warmth that reminded Philip forcibly of their mother. Watching Alice in company was much like watching a performance.

Both Miss Devenish and Miss Parkham greeted Ruth with affection, and Philip suppressed a smile. Somehow, knowing he was the only one there aware of Ruth’s disguise gave him a simultaneous thrill and an interesting hint of protectiveness. He was well aware just how compromised she would be if anyone else discovered the deception.

Miss Devenish was looking striking, as usual, even more so now that she wore a butter yellow dress—Philip was still unused to seeing her in anything but blacks, grays, and purples. He quickly reminded himself of the things he and Ruth had discussed, redetermining to be observant and attentive to Miss Devenish. The image flashed across his mind of holding Ruth against him, and he pushed it—and the unexpected thrill it had caused him both then and now—aside.

The group partook of tea and a tray of sweetmeats before Alice gave Philip a speaking look and addressed herself to Mrs. Devenish. It was his cue to start the games.

R uth sent a quick glance across the circular table in the drawing room. She sat beside Miss Parkham, who was waiting patiently in front of the chess board while Philip and Miss Devenish conferred in hushed whispers about their next move. Chess in pairs , Ruth had called it, knowing that it would force the teams to work together—and to do so just as Philip and Miss Devenish were now: heads huddled and eyes glancing suspiciously at Ruth and Miss Parkham to ensure they were not overhearing anything.

It was perfect. Painfully perfect. It was exactly what she had prepared Philip for, and he was doing marvelously. He looked completely natural—a far cry from the uncertain, stiff man she had watched at church a few weeks ago.

Ruth’s own performance was of a different nature. She needed not only to remember that she was a gentleman—a task made more difficult by the two days she had just spent as a woman—but to also hide the misery inside her.

She had initially been worried upon Miss Devenish’s arrival—the young woman was as kind and civil as ever, but Ruth hadn’t missed the slightly drawn look she had. It reminded her quite a bit of Topher, and that did nothing to alleviate her qualms.

But Miss Devenish seemed to enter into the spirit of chess in pairs with enthusiasm, and even if she didn’t return Philip’s subtle touches, neither did she draw back from them.

Ruth and Miss Parkham had taken the first game, and the result of the current one was still very much up in the air. Philip and Miss Devenish seemed to come to an agreement, though, and the latter reached out and moved her remaining knight.

Philip looked at Ruth with a smile on his lips and a hint of anticipated victory in his eyes.

The door to the drawing room opened, and Ruth glanced up, stilling.

Topher’s confused gaze flitted from Lady Tipton and Mrs. Devenish—sipping more tea on the settee—to Ruth and Miss Parkham, and finally to the backs of Philip and Miss Devenish.

Ruth tried to shoo him away, but realizing that Lady Tipton’s eye had caught the action, she changed her approach, hurrying to rise from her seat. “Franks!” Ruth called out with as much pleased surprise as she could muster to cover her dismay. “Wasn’t expecting your return until tomorrow.”

“Yes,” he said slowly, wide eyes still on Miss Devenish. “I finished my business sooner than anticipated.”

“I imagine you must be quite tired from your journey,” she said with a tight smile. “Wishing to rest, no doubt.”

“Is this the Mr. Franks you were telling me about, Philip?” Lady Tipton asked, curiosity gleaming in her eyes.

Philip nodded. “The same. Franks, this is my sister, Lady Tipton, and beside her, Mrs. Devenish.”

Topher bowed to them both.

“We are acquainted,” said Mrs. Devenish with a kind smile, and Ruth held her breath as she waited to see whether Mrs. Devenish would expound upon their acquaintance. She knew a moment of panic as she thought on what the result would be if the connection between her brother and Miss Devenish became known. Her stomach flipped and churned at the realization that she was still not being fully honest with Philip.

“You must join the games, of course,” said Lady Tipton, motioning for him to come further into the room.

Ruth let out a breathy chuckle and perjured herself. “Oh, Franks hates chess. I hope you don’t mind if I steal him away for a moment—this business he left on, it is somewhat urgent, and it is a matter which requires a bit of consultation. You know very well what you are doing, Miss Parkham. I have every confidence that you can bring about another victory for us. Excuse us, if you will.”

“Of course, of course,” said Lady Tipton. “But do bring him back after. We needn’t play chess all night—there are plenty of other options. And games are always more amusing with more people, I have found.”

“Then it is somewhat strange that you yourself have declined to play,” said Philip as his eyes roved over the chess board.

Lady Tipton waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, I am far too old for such things now.”

Noting the flush in Miss Devenish’s face as she looked at Topher, Ruth took her brother’s arm, firmly guiding him out of the room and shutting the door behind them. She pulled him toward the library across the corridor.

“She is here,” Topher said, stumbling a bit as she tugged him into the room.

“And so are you. But why? You weren’t supposed to return until tomorrow.”

Topher’s eyes lingered on the shut door. “Mama scolded me for leaving you at all and insisted I return as soon as I had carried out business for the Swan.”

Ruth dropped his arm and pursed her lips. “Of course she did.” She let her head drop back with a large sigh of frustration. “What did you tell her? Does she know of my disguise?”

Topher tore his eyes away from the door and shook his head. “I didn’t want to worry her.”

She nodded. “How is she? And the children?”

The first hint of a smile appeared on his face. “Well enough. They miss you, though.”

Ruth missed them . But she also felt dread at the prospect of leaving London—and Philip.

It would be for the best. In the end.

Topher’s eyes traveled back to the door. “I should have let you know I was returning early, but I didn’t expect….”

Ruth nodded, biting her lip. His presence at the card party could well ruin everything, and yet Lady Tipton seemed eager that he join.

“You are wishing me at Jericho,” he said, dropping his eyes to the floor.

“Never,” she lied. “But it does make things quite awkward. Tonight is important, you know. And it has been going rather well, though I know it is hardly what you wish to hear.”

His throat bobbed, and the corners of his mouth turned down. “It is the way it must be.”

Ruth sighed. “I am afraid so. You told her the last time you saw her that you had experienced a change of feelings, did you not?”

He shut his eyes and nodded. “It was the only way she would listen. She detests me. I could see it in her eyes just now.”

Ruth had her doubts on the matter, but she refrained from voicing them. Topher didn’t need to be encouraged to hope. Nor did Miss Devenish.

A thought occurred to her. She clenched her teeth together. It would be asking more of her brother than she felt she could fairly ask. But nothing about their situation seemed fair, and truthfully, her own situation was now requiring more of her than she felt capable of giving. She could use some help.

“Are you coming to play games?”

He shrugged. “Lady Tipton expects it. I could say I am feeling ill, I suppose. I can’t imagine I will be an asset to your party, though.”

“You might be,” she said with a painful grimace. “But it would be terribly unpleasant for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Brace yourself,” she said. “If you can manage to keep Miss Devenish at arm’s length—to convince her that you regard her with nothing more than polite disinterest, it might provide a helpful contrast to her interactions with Philip.” She bit her lip.

Topher’s jaw was set tight, and he clenched his eyes shut. “I don’t know if I can, Ruth.” He shook his head.

“It is fine,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. “I quite understand. But I cannot have you betraying how much you still care for her. I can make your excuses.”

He nodded, rubbing his chin, and his cravat bobbed with his throat. “I can do it.”

“Do what?”

“Help you. Act indifferent.”

She shook her head. “I should never have suggested it.”

He smiled wryly. “ You didn’t just look into Joanna’s eyes and tell her you hadn’t brought home a doll for her, Ruth. I did. And I am fairly certain I would do anything to ensure that we can return home with enough money to buy her that ridiculous thing.” He glanced at the door again. “I do care for Rebecca, and perhaps if things were different, we might have been together. But the truth is, she deserves more than I can give her. And Oxley can give it to her.”

Ruth blinked rapidly, her lashes brushing against the glass of her spectacles. “I am so very sorry, Topher.” She gave a watery chuckle. “Did I not tell you we should not have accepted Philip’s request? We may return to Marsbrooke three hundred pounds richer, but I fear we shall both be in a bad way.”

He wrapped an arm about her shoulders. “Come. Let us go be miserable together, then. The sooner we can make this match happen, the sooner we can put it behind us.”