A Matchmaking Mismatch (Romance Retold #3)

Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

“ M r. Ruth shall be terribly put out when he discovers that I have lost the game for us.” Miss Parkham flicked the king piece over with a resigned finger.

“Nonsense.” Philip glanced at Miss Devenish beside him, who seemed to be lost in a brown study. He put a light hand on her back, wishing it felt more natural. He couldn’t help remembering Ruth’s demonstration the day before and smiling slightly. “The outcome would have been the same whether or not Ruth was here. Do you not agree, Miss Devenish?”

She blinked quickly and smiled. “Oh, yes. Of course. We merely needed one game to find our stride.”

The door opened, and Ruth and her brother stepped in.

Philip watched her carefully for anything that might give him an indication of why she had acted so strangely upon the arrival of her brother. But she was smiling, and she came straight over to the chess table, her brother following behind.

“How did we fare, Miss Parkham?” she asked, glancing at the board.

“I am ever so sorry.” Miss Parkham indicated the king.

“You likely fared better than you would have had Ruth stayed.” Philip sent Ruth a teasing glance, and she shot him an unamused, false smile.

“Only a third game to break the tie will tell for certain,” Ruth said. “What do you say, Miss Parkham?”

Miss Parkham let out a little laugh. “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly. I think I shall cede my place to Mr. Franks and join Lady Tipton and Mrs. Devenish for a cup of tea. I enjoy nothing more than a warm cup on rainy nights such as this one. But perhaps I shall come over and observe presently.” And with that, she curtsied and made her way over to the chaperones.

Philip turned toward Miss Devenish and leaned in toward her slightly. “What do you say, Miss Devenish? Are you prepared to take on a new enemy?”

She gave a sudden, high-pitched laugh that made Philip blink in surprise. “I am quite ready.” She shifted in her seat so that she sat even closer to him.

He glanced at Ruth, who was staring at Miss Devenish, her expression impassive.

Mr. Hawthorn took a seat, his jaw set tightly and his smile somewhat lacking in authenticity as he greeted Miss Devenish. What ailed him now? Had something happened at home?

All four of the players were intent on winning, though there seemed to be an extra measure of competitiveness in the Hawthorn twins.

Philip found his gaze moving to Ruth every now and then, seeking her approval for his attempts at following the advice she had given him. In fact, though, as the game progressed, Miss Devenish seemed to be the one initiating all the intimate whispers and small touches. She sat very close to him indeed, and her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright. They seemed to be the positive indications Ruth had told him to watch for, but Philip found himself torn in response. There was something strange about Miss Devenish’s behavior—or perhaps he was simply unused to romantic connection.

The game ended with another victory for Philip and her, though, and she nudged him with her elbow. “We make quite a team, Lord Oxley.”

He managed a laugh and looked at Ruth, as though she might perhaps interpret Miss Devenish’s behavior for him and tell him what to do next. But she was focused on gathering the chess pieces. Something was certainly off, and he wished he could have a moment alone with Ruth to see what was troubling her.

Miss Devenish was in high spirits all evening, and her manner toward Philip very promising—she had taken his arm more than once and seemed ready to be amused by his pleasantries. He felt none of the anxieties that had plagued him before Ruth’s arrival and assistance, but neither did he feel the sense of victory he had anticipated he would feel given the encouragement from Miss Devenish.

Mr. Hawthorn excused himself just after eleven, pleading fatigue from his journey. His mood had not improved over the course of the games.

It seemed that he was not the only one feeling tired. Miss Devenish, too, seemed to suddenly lose some of her energy, sinking into the sofa and sipping a cup of tea with a bit of a glazed look in her eyes until Miss Parkham addressed a whispered remark to her. It was not long after that that the young women and Mrs. Devenish took their leave.

“Well,” Alice said just after the door shut behind them, “ that was quite a success, if I do say so myself. Miss Devenish was absolutely captivated by you, Philip! Well done, brother. Very well done indeed, don’t you think, Mr. Ruth?”

Ruth nodded with a tired smile. “Yes, very well done.”

Philip knew an impulse to take her hand but refrained, given Alice’s presence. Was she feeling spent because of her wound? He should have insisted that the card party wait until she had fully recovered. It was selfish of him to expect her to orchestrate things when she was in such a state.

“I should be going,” Alice said with a contented sigh. “Jon is expecting me soon. This has been amusing, though, to be sure. I will call for the carriage to be brought around for us, Philip.”

“Oh.” Philip hesitated. “I walked here, you know, and I had intended to walk home as well.” He wanted to be sure that Ruth’s injury was attended to.

“But it is raining much harder now,” Alice said. “I can spare you the walk in the dark—and speak with you a bit more besides.” She smiled and returned to the drawing room to gather her belongings.

Philip stared after her with a grimace then took a step toward Ruth. “Are you feeling unwell?” He nodded at the place where her injury hid beneath a coat, waistcoat, and shirtsleeves.

She shook her head. “Just a bit tired, I think.”

He frowned. “It is my fault. You should be resting.”

“I was the one who insisted upon the card party. Remember?”

It was true, of course, but it didn’t make him feel any better. “Your brother seemed to be out of spirits this evening.”

“Yes,” she said, glancing toward the stairs thoughtfully. “I am afraid he was.”

“I hope it wasn’t for anything involving your family.”

“No. They are well, thankfully. You are kind to think of them, though.”

Her eyes were still cast down—behind those hideous glasses—and he put a hand on her shoulder. There had to be more to her demeanor than mere fatigue. “Ruth,” he said gently, bending his head to seek her gaze. “What is it? You can tell me.”

Alice emerged from the drawing room, and he dropped his hand quickly.

“Your hat, Philip. I don’t wish to rush you, of course, but I assured Jon that I would return by midnight, and you know how he worries.”

Philip knew nothing of the sort, but he took his hat and nodded, all the same. Ruth didn’t seem inclined to speak with him about whatever was bringing down her spirits, and that simultaneously hurt and worried him.

“Perhaps we can discuss things tomorrow?” he said in an undervoice.

Ruth nodded with a weak attempt at a smile. “Yes, of course.”

“I shall come then. And perhaps engage to beat you at chess again.” The genuine smile he had hoped for appeared, and he breathed a sigh of relief at the sight.

“What an imagination you have,” Ruth responded.

Philip followed his sister into the coach, preparing himself for her chatter and analysis of the evening. Thankfully, the journey from Upper Brook Street to Brook Street would take less than five minutes.

“Well, that was a smashing success, was it not?” She needlessly smoothed one of her immaculate gloves, looking at Philip with all the pride of someone who had just hosted the Prince Regent himself.

He nodded. “It went well.” By most accounts, it had gone well—better than he had expected. And yet, he felt little satisfaction.

“We must arrange for another evening like it as soon as possible. Any evening she spends with you is an evening she is not spending with the other gentlemen who wish to ingratiate themselves with her.” She tapped a gloved finger against her lips. “Perhaps this time we might invite her over for dinner at my house—just a small, intimate affair—for, while I like Mr. Ruth and Miss Parkham well enough, the less distractions, the better, don’t you think?”

Philip stifled a smile, but his brows drew together. Why did that prospect not appeal to him? He should want to spend more time with his future wife, shouldn’t he? He was going to ask her to spend the rest of her life with him, after all. And he liked her well enough, but…

“Alice,” he said, interrupting her stream of talk. “Are you happy with your decision to marry Jon?”

She blinked at him and laughed uneasily. “Why, what a question!”

He said nothing, waiting.

She shifted in her seat. “Of course I am. Why would you even think to ask such a thing?”

“I have often wondered if you regretted giving up Vickers.”

She held his gaze for a moment before looking away. “We were ill-suited.”

“Were you?”

“Yes,” she said firmly.

“Do you actually believe that, or did Father persuade you of it?”

The coach slowed, and Alice looked through the window. “Ah, here we are. I wish I could stay and chat longer, but Jon is waiting. I shall come by to speak with you about that dinner party.”

Philip hesitated for a moment, eyes on Alice, then descended from the coach.