said in a whisper . . . âIt is about Edwin.â
âAnd what about Edwin?â
âOf course, I admire him very much.â
âAnd?â
âAnd I am rather fond of him.â
âYou are extremely fond of him.â
She blushed some more.
âI never told you that.â
âYou do not tell me when you cut your hair either. But I have the intelligence to perceive it.â
Her beautiful young face was growing redder by the moment. I laughed, and she embraced me.
âAnd I believe that I am in love with Edwin. Do you think he likes me?â
âHe more than likes you. It is as clearly written on his face as it is on yours. The only difference is that he blushes less.â
I was right, of course.
Edwin had never known the worth of his heart before. Walking to the office on Monday morning, he found himself reading signs above shop doors without remembering what they said and staring into windows at things he did not see. Saturday next, when he and Ruby would be together at the learning center, could not come soon enough. And then they would have another Sunday together.
âI have never seen a smile such as hers,â Edwin told himself. âNor eyes that sparkled so, or a waist that so enticed a man to clasp the air involuntarily when thinking of twining his arm round it.â
Isabella came to the office on Monday afternoon, as Edwin had feared she might.
âAnd who was that young lady I saw you with on the street?â
âHer name, as I told you when we met, is Ruby Spriggs.â
âWhere do you know her from?â
âShe is a teacher at the learning center, where I give my time on Saturdays.â
âMarriage and motherhood are the only satisfactory roles for women. That is, of course, for women of a decent class.â
âMiss Spriggsâs class is the same as mine. We are both citizens of England.â
Isabella clasped her hands together with as much dignity as she could muster.
âI suppose that, for those who like plainness, she has a certain allure.â
It was Edwinâs hope that the conversation, as unpleasant as it was, would have the happy consequence of putting an end to Isabellaâs delusions with regard to his feelings toward her.
âMiss Spriggs is a young lady for whom I have great attachment and regard.â
âI am sure. But consider how much more agreeable I can render your situation if I am your friend, and how much more disagreeable if I am your enemy.â
No one knows until the time comes what depths are in others as to their capacity to do evil. There was an unspeakable jealousy in Isabellaâs breast. She hated Ruby with a vengeance and venality worthy of a member of the house of Murd.
As for her father . . .
One reason that men such as Alexander Murd do what they do is the thrill of playing the game. It is oxygen to them. Whether at a card table playing whist, in business dealings, or brutally intruding upon other peopleâs lives, it is all the same to them. They are relentless and ruthless in pursuit of the win.
Murd was largely removed emotionally from his daughterâs life. His relationships with his employees were strictly businessin nature. He had no understanding of how delusional Isabella was, and truly believed that she and Edwin might someday marry. Also, making the assumption that he loved his daughter, he loved himself a great deal more.
A cold hard anger coursed through Murdâs veins when Isabella came to him and recounted what she knew of Edwin and Ruby. Edwin was a valuable company asset. Murd did not want to lose his services over a loversâ quarrel. And because Murd was without a son, Edwin, as a possible son-in-law, might oversee the business someday.
Murd viewed the thought of Edwin and Ruby being together as an attack upon his family and himself. He resolved to bring all of his power to bear to crush whatever situation existed between them.
âRuby