Page 14 of The Rules of Courtship (Hearts of Harewood #3)

Chapter Fourteen

Rule #14: Never allow yourself to be alone with a man in the middle of the night, even if he is a trustworthy friend

Ruth brushed her long, unbound hair while Sarah hung her dress in the wardrobe, smoothing out the skirt to ensure it did not wrinkle. Ruth frowned into the mirror, putting the brush down while her eyes went blurry. She was embarrassed and tired. Part of her wanted to return home. If Oliver was going to be distant and strange, she needn’t push her friendship on him.

Was she being childish? Perhaps. It had been his idea to create rules and help one another find a good person to court. All of that had seemed to disappear with his sullen attitude, and now Ruth couldn’t think of anything but Oliver. He was consuming her thoughts.

“Shall I plait your hair?” Sarah asked, putting Ruth’s stockings in a basket to launder.

“You can leave,” Ruth said kindly, smiling at her maid. “I will plait it tonight.” She continued brushing it, frowning at herself in the mirror.

“If you insist.”

“Sarah,” Ruth said, pivoting on the seat to face her maid. She dropped her hands in her lap, the bristles from the hairbrush scratching against her wrist. “Have you heard anything about Emily Edmonds or Mr. Bailey?”

Sarah straightened, sliding the basket’s handle over her arm. “Below stairs, you mean?”

“Yes, amongst the servants. Mr. Bailey has seemed interested in furthering his acquaintance with me, but I had the…impression…he might already have a previous understanding with Miss Edmonds.”

“I’ve heard nothing yet, but I can ask around if you’d like.”

“We wouldn’t wish to gossip.”

“No, of course not,” Sarah said, dipping her head of blonde curls in acquiescence.

“But, if you hear of anything,” Ruth said carefully, “it would not be gossip to merely listen.”

Sarah fought a smile. “Precisely, miss.” She tilted her head. “Do you like the man?”

“I suppose so, but I wouldn’t like to accept his advances if he has already led another woman to believe he has feelings for her.”

“No, I can see how you would not. I will keep my ear out for information.”

“Thank you, Sarah.”

Her maid bobbed a curtsy and slipped from the room.

Ruth faced the mirror again, brushing her long, brown hair until it felt smooth. She divided it into three segments and began the thick plait. She was tying off the end with a ribbon when the door opened and Sarah reappeared.

“Did you forget something?” Ruth asked, focused on the ribbon .

“No, but, um…” Sarah cleared her throat loudly.

Ruth looked up to find Oliver standing in the corridor, leaning against the wall and looking directly at her.

Good grief, the man’s frown was far more attractive than hers. His face was shadowed in the corridor, lending him a broody air. His eyes pierced through the room and hit her in the chest as he straightened, pushing away from the wall to stand tall.

“Mr. Rose wanted a word with you, Miss,” Sarah said quietly. “I didn’t…that is…what…”

This situation was unprecedented, Ruth would give her that. What the devil was she supposed to say? She would meet him in the corridor? He could come inside her chamber? They would be seen if he hung around much longer.

Ruth rose to her feet, pulling her dressing gown closed. Her braid slid to her back and dropped between her shoulder blades.

“Thank you, Sarah,” she said dismissively. Her maid understood and scurried away. “What could be so urgent?” Ruth hissed quietly.

Oliver glanced down the corridor, his eyes dark and shadowed but obviously concerned. Fear suddenly gripped her. He would not be here without just cause. The man was far too careful for anything else. If he had waited for Sarah in order to approach Ruth, he was aware of how a visit at this time of night would be received.

It was madness.

“I wanted to speak to you,” he said.

Her heart thudded, the sound so loud she was certain it echoed off the walls in her bedchamber. They couldn’t walk anywhere together, so she only had one other choice. Pulling the door open further, she stepped back. “Then I think you had best come in.”

Oliver only hesitated briefly before he stepped into the room and closed the door behind himself. His green eyes tracked her with uncertainty, which was strange, since she was the one in the dark.

“What is so urgent?” she asked.

“I did not like the way we left things.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “This could not wait until the morning?”

Oliver’s brow furrowed. “Forgive me, Ruth. I thought you were upset with me. It bothered me.” He put his arms out in a helpless gesture that tugged at her. “I didn’t mean anything by this. I wanted to be certain you were…that we were…”

“I was not upset,” she lied. Of course, she had been embarrassed, but that wasn’t something she wished to discuss with him. She was hurt by the way he had ignored her, but again, that felt childish to complain about. How would she explain? She was growing hot, and the room was too cool to blame her red cheeks on anything but embarrassment.

“Ruth—”

“Truly. If you don’t wish to speak to me, that is your choice.” She tried to look unbothered.

“My father is ill,” he said, his voice deep and soft, hiding the pain.

She drew in a sharp breath. “He’s been found?”

“My uncles are en route to retrieve him right now. Mr. Harding wrote to Samuel, asking him to inform me. My father took ill months ago and has been looked after by a family in Thistledale, but they had no notion of who he was, and he wasn’t coherent enough to inform them. Now that he’s awakened, they think he can be moved. I expect they’ve tired of nursing a strange man who has enough family to do the job properly.”

“Oh, Oliver.” She took a step toward him, her hand resting on his arm. “Forgive my selfishness. I assumed you were avoiding me because of something I had done. I didn’t realize you were distracted with grief.” Surely he had endured enough heartache for the year.

“I was avoiding you, Ruth.”

She straightened, her hand dropping from his arm as she crossed it over her chest. “Oh.”

“I knew you would see through me. I have barely been keeping myself together, and I feared you would undo it all. It’s no excuse, but I’ve needed to keep pretending. With you, I cannot pretend.”

Ruth shook her head, her heart thudding. As far as reasons went, this one made her pulse increase. “What of Samuel?”

“He’s acting like a nursemaid, but I know he means well.” Oliver shrugged, the gesture so helpless. “Perhaps I have been misguided, but I had hoped to avoid dwelling on this when there is nothing I can do at present about the situation.”

“You do not wish to go to your father?” she asked.

“I would not be much help on the road, if I even could find them, and Samuel reminded me that waiting in my empty house will drive me mad. Here, at least, there are distractions.”

“Do you want to be distracted?” she asked.

His lips curved up on the end softly. “It sounds superior to brooding alone in a quiet house.”

Ruth put aside her hurt and sought understanding. “Then I will do my best to help distract you,” she said, though the words seemed to come out much softer than she had intended. Looking up into his green eyes, she felt the strong urge to lean forward and embrace him. The man had endured such loss and heartache, and now this? Yet he remained standing there, strong and quiet, an example of steadfastness and humility.

The magnitude of their current situation fell over her with swift realization. They were alone in her bedchamber at night, and a witness had seen them. It had been Sarah, whom Ruth believed she could trust, but that did not change the significance of their current circumstances .

“We should not be alone,” she said.

Oliver swallowed. “We are like brother and sister, are we not? I believe those are the words you used only days ago.”

“You know very well that hardly matters. If we were found in this way?—”

A knock at the door made Ruth flinch.

Oliver’s eyes went wide, his skin going pale.

“Darling, may I come in?” Lady Helena asked, her voice muffled through the door.

“You must hide!” Ruth whispered. Even Lady Helena would not be understanding to discover Oliver in Ruth’s room when they were both believed to be sleeping.

He started toward the wardrobe.

“You will never fit in there.” Ruth raised her voice. “One moment, Mama. Let me fetch a dressing gown.” She reached the window, tossing back the drapes, but the drop to the ground was too far and nothing sat below them.

Oliver ran a hand through his dark hair, searching the room. They shared a look.

Ruth raised her eyebrows. “Under the bed?”

“Do I have any other choice?” he muttered, dropping to the floor and scooting himself into hiding.

“Ruth?” Lady Helena called, her tone growing concerned. The doorknob began to turn.

“Nearly ready!” Ruth looked to where the shadow of Oliver’s boot was obvious at the end of the bed and kicked it with her toe. He drew his boot out of view, which she imagined to be uncomfortable.

Best to send her mother away swiftly.

She went to the door and opened it. “It is late, Mama.”

Lady Helena swept into the room, her dark brow furrowed. “You did not seem well tonight. Is anything amiss?”

Drat the woman and her ability to sense Ruth’s moods. “No. ”

Lady Helena’s eyes narrowed. She closed the door and turned back, analyzing Ruth’s flushed cheeks and shaky hands. “What is troubling you?”

“Nothing. I am perfectly well.”

“You do not have to confide in me, but you must know you’re not fooling me.”

Ruth swallowed. “That is not my intention.”

Which, quite frankly, was a lie. She hoped her stepmother would accept her answers and leave her to it.

There was a small creak in the floorboards under the bed. Ruth shifted on her feet, hoping the sound would pass unnoticed. “Was there anything else?” She tried to affect a yawn.

“How are you feeling about this house party thus far?”

“It has been enjoyable, but I find myself missing my bed.”

“As one does,” Lady Helena agreed. “It has been so lovely spending time with Mrs. Watson again. Have you felt friendships grow with any of the young ladies?”

“They are all kind. One would expect a more competitive nature in a situation like this, but I have not experienced that with any of them.”

“The twins have always been sweet girls. Miss Edmonds has a more colorful history, but she seems to be behaving herself. I wondered if she had set her sights on Oliver.”

“Oh?” Ruth’s voice squeaked, and it took great restraint not to glance at the boots beneath her bed. “She has seemed interested in Mr. Bailey to me.”

“And he has been interested in you .” Lady Helena’s smile widened. “He’s handsome and in good financial standing. He inherited his father’s estate when his brother died a few years ago, so he has been somewhat reclusive since then. But he seems interested in obtaining a wife now. At least, Lord Rocklin told me he did not have to persuade Mr. Bailey to accept the invitation. He sent the first acceptance.”

“That poor man. To believe you must make a life for yourself elsewhere and then lose your brother and receive his estate all at one time.”

“He would be a catch, Ruth,” Lady Helena said. “Your father had his own ideas when he sent you here, and they did not include Mr. Bailey, but if you like the man, you ought to find time to know him better. This is an opportunity to find a husband, and I do think he would give you a good life.”

Ruth was entirely too aware of Oliver’s proximity and the embarrassing nature of this conversation, but what could she do? She cleared her throat. “I will think on it.”

“You would need to love him, of course. We want nothing less for you. But if you accepted a courtship by the end of the house party, we could invite him to our home for a few weeks. Do not feel hurried, darling. We only want what’s best for you.”

The best thing for her now would be solitude and perhaps a pillow to scream into.

“I will think on it,” Ruth repeated tightly.

Lady Helena let out a sigh. She made it to the door before stopping and turning back. “Oliver is worrying me. Do you know why he has been acting differently today?”

She did, but it was not her secret to share. “It has been a hard year for him,” Ruth said vaguely.

“Indeed, poor man. I would like to see him happily settled and in love, as well. I do hope he finds someone.”

“Yes, well, perhaps he will.” Ruth’s cheeks flooded with warmth. She opened the door and smiled, hoping the dimness hid her blush. “Goodnight, Mama.”

“Goodnight.” Lady Helena pulled her in for an embrace before leaving.

When Ruth closed the door, she twisted the key to lock it this time, then slumped against it and briefly closed her eyes. “She is gone.”

Oliver poked his head out from beneath the bed and looked at her. The sight made her chuckle, the heaviness in her chest uncoiling the slightest bit. Pushing away from the door, she moved to help him out from beneath the bed.

“You are covered in dust,” she said, swatting at his back and the arms of his jacket.

Oliver glanced at her over his shoulder. “It is probably unsafe for me to leave just yet.”

“Probably.” Ruth sat on the edge of her bed and rubbed her eyes.

Oliver hesitated before sitting beside her. “You could have told your mother about my father’s illness.”

“I did not know if you would approve.”

“I understand.” He looked ahead. “What did you think of her opinions about Mr. Bailey? The man does seem like a good match. I was unaware of the state of his finances, but that must come as a relief.”

Ruth’s stomach flipped. She was not thinking about Mr. Bailey at all. She was thinking about Oliver’s strong hands and how they would feel wrapped around hers. But she shouldn’t. After all these years, if Oliver had any feelings for her, he would have made them known. “Yes, but he is not eligible if he has an arrangement with Miss Edmonds.”

“You think him to be her beau?”

“He is the most logical choice.”

“How do you know the woman wasn’t lying?” Oliver asked. “A way to deter you from setting your sights on Bailey?”

“Because she did not provide a name.” Ruth pulled her braid over her shoulder and fiddled with the blue ribbon at the end. “I discovered who he was by using the power of deduction.”

Oliver nodded, running a hand over his chin. He turned to look at her, shaking his head. “The party has not yet reached the halfway mark. Much can happen in a week.”

It felt like a promise, though she did not know why. “Shall we do away with our agreement?” she asked .

“On the contrary.” Oliver stood, stretching his shoulders. He looked down at her. “I think we need it now more than ever.”