The Widowed Bride. Elizabeth Lane
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Pausing next to the six-foot fence, he scanned the yard for a hiding place. He’d considered watching from the safety and relative comfort of an upstairs room. But Ruby could easily discover him there; and a view from above wouldn’t allow him to see faces, hear what was being said or, if necessary, trail after suspects when they left. For that he would need to be as close as possible.
The moon was a thin silver edge above the peaks. Fully risen, it would flood the yard with light. Only the deepest shadow would be enough to hide him.
In the far corner of the yard stood a dilapidated garden shed. Its door had rotted away, leaving the front open beneath the sagging roof. But the narrow space between the fence and the rear of the structure would be buried in shadow. Overgrown with brambles, it wouldn’t be a comfortable hiding place, but it would have to do.
The twilight was deepening into darkness. Knowing he might be there for hours, Ethan eased himself between the shed and the fence, kicked aside the prickly stems and settled in to wait.
“So, how was your dinner, my dear?”
“Fine, thank you,” Ruby answered. In truth, the roast beef had been overdone, the mashed potatoes lumpy and the piecrust like sodden leather. But since she’d been so tense she could barely swallow, the quality of the food had made little difference.
For most of the meal the conversation had been light and trivial—happenings in the town, people, businesses and her own plans for the boardinghouse. But she’d sensed that Thaddeus Wilton was biding his time, waiting to spring some unknown trap when she least expected it. That subtle awareness had kept her on edge throughout the meal.
The mayor had told her a little about the history of the house and implied that if she wished to sell it, he might be willing to make her an offer. “It’s a big responsibility for a woman alone, especially a gently reared lady like yourself,” he’d said, patting the back of her hand.
“You misjudge me,” she’d replied, stiffening at his touch. “I’m quite capable of doing whatever I put my mind to.”
“So I gather,” he’d murmured, withdrawing his hand and reaching for another dinner roll. “You’re a very remarkable woman, Ruby—I may call you Ruby, mayn’t I?”
“Yes, of course.” Ruby had forced herself to take another bite of roast beef. All she’d wanted was for this interminable evening to be over.
Now the meal was at an end. The waiter cleared away their plates and brought coffee. Ruby sipped delicately, aware that too much of it would keep her awake. The mayor leaned back in his chair, studying her over the rim of his cup. His bushy black eyebrows looked as if they’d been dyed to match his toupee.
“Yes,” he murmured. “As I said earlier, you’re a quite a remarkable woman, Ruby. I didn’t know how remarkable until I telephoned some contacts of mine this afternoon.” His eyes narrowed, sending a chill of apprehension through her body. “When you say you can do whatever you put your mind to, I believe you. A woman who can murder her rich husband and get away with it is capable of anything.”
Ruby’s shaking hand sloshed her coffee, scalding her fingers and staining the white tablecloth. Sooner or later, she knew, her secret was bound to come out. But to have it revealed now, and in such lurid fashion, would be disastrous. She needed time to build a good reputation. Her girls needed time to make friends. She couldn’t allow this conniving weasel of a man to ruin their chances. Willing herself to be calm, she set the cup onto its saucer and met Wilton’s leering eyes. “I shot my late husband in self-defense,” she said in a cold voice. “The jury acquitted me of all charges.”
“Of course they did. What jury could convict a woman who looks like you? But don’t worry, my dear. Your little secret is safe with me.”
Ruby battled the urge to fling the hot coffee in his face. “What is it you want?” she demanded, keeping her voice low.
“What do I want?” He feigned a hurt expression. “Why, nothing, except your trust and friendship, Ruby. I understand that you wouldn’t want the story getting out—you know how gossip can spread in a small town. And people here can be so judgmental, especially the women. Why, they’d turn their backs on you, every last one of them! As for your children…”
“Stop it!” She rose, her body quivering. “I did what I had to. In the eyes of the law, I’ve been judged innocent.”
“As you doubtless are.” The mayor remained seated, blotting his mouth with his napkin. His eyes gleamed with victory. “As I told you, Ruby, as long as we understand each other, you’ve nothing to worry about. Now, why don’t you sit down and finish your coffee. Then I’ll walk you through the dining room and introduce you to some influential friends of mine.”
Ruby clasped the back of her chair, her stomach roiling. “Please forgive me, I’m not feeling well,” she murmured. “I think the best thing would be for me to just leave.”
“Of course.” The mayor rose. “Please allow me to walk you home, my dear.”
She shook her head. “I’m not much for company when I’m feeling unwell. I’d prefer to walk home by myself.”
“Alone? But will you be all right?”
“I’ll be fine. It’s only a few blocks.” Ruby edged toward the door.
“And you’ll allow me to call on you tomorrow?”
“Of course. Whenever you like.” Anything to end this wretched evening and get away, she thought.
“Very well, if you insist. At least let me escort you outside.” He came around the table and took her elbow. Ruby willed herself not to recoil as he guided her through the hallway and across the lobby. This vain, obsequious little man had the power to cast a shadow over her future and the future of her daughters. She had no doubt he planned to put that power to use.
On the porch outside the hotel, he clasped her hand. She cringed inwardly as he raised her fingers to his lips. “Until tomorrow, then, my dear Ruby,” he murmured. “Something tells me this evening will be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
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