Page 18 of The Rules of Courtship (Hearts of Harewood #3)

Chapter Eighteen

Rule #18: Sometimes, even rules cannot save you from folly…in which case, smile and escape as quickly as possible

Nothing had gone the way Ruth had expected it to. Ever since Lord Rocklin and the group had found her in the garden with Oliver, things had moved in a whirlwind so quickly she hadn’t been able to stop and catch her breath.

Dropping his protective anger at once, Lord Rocklin congratulated them deeply and ushered them into the house to share their news with the entire party. Lady Helena had seemed surprised, but hid it well beneath a joyful mask—though she could not cover the confusion forming a slight crease between her eyebrows.

“What a lark,” Mr. Bailey said, looking between them. His voice was dry, but his expression cut through her. “In love all this time and not a word of it, eh?”

Ruth wanted to sink into the carpet. Love? It was not two-sided. She might have been developing feelings for Oliver, but he was merely acting as he believed a gentleman should. He cared about her and her family—but Ruth was not na?ve. She was certain he had only acted to save her reputation after she had ruthlessly attacked him with all the pent-up fervor bursting within her. He had needed the distraction, and she had given it to him. He had said himself he only had thoughts of her in his mind, and she was certain he was filling his head with her so he would not linger on his ill father.

He had needed to be distracted, and she had taken advantage of his moment of vulnerability. Ruth would go along with his plan for the night, but as soon as she was able, she would free him from any obligation.

She could not honestly enter into any marriage agreement lacking a proclamation of love.

Oliver deserved more than to be shackled to her merely because he fancied a kiss in a moonlit garden. Even if she imagined she had heard him say…but never mind that. When she had given him an opportunity to admit aloud the thing she had believed he muttered, he was resolutely silent. It had likely been a surge of emotion from the kiss. If he had meant it, he would have said it boldly.

Weariness overcame her. She looked at her stepmother. “I feel a bit peaked.”

“I imagine so,” Lady Helena said, a touch too dry. “I will take you upstairs. Good night, darling,” she said to Oliver, pressing her hand to his arm before taking Ruth from his grip.

Oliver was silent, though he seemed reluctant to watch Ruth leave. Perhaps he wanted to discuss this as much as she did.

“Ride tomorrow?” he asked, his green eyes searching her face.

“The stables are closed,” she reminded him—a response Lord Rocklin had made to Mr. Edmonds’s injury.

Lady Helena pulled her away, a chorus of congratulations and good nights following her from the room. She felt the heaviness of Oliver’s gaze tracking her departure. The skin on the back of her neck prickled from the memories of his hands on her skin, his fingers sliding over her face, his lips on hers. She wanted to return to the garden and continue the interlude without being interrupted.

Ruth nearly tripped on the stairs. She lifted her hem and kept her gaze forward. They were silent while they walked together, but her thoughts were swimming. Did she come out with the truth immediately or wait to see how Lady Helena reacted first? Somehow she felt sixteen again, being chastened for sneaking to Eliza’s house without a chaperone. She had provided Lady Helena with the excuse of going to sleep and had later been found kissing Oliver in the garden. However badly it looked, the reality was not as deceitful. At least she had not set out to find Oliver and kiss him. But she was not innocent all the same.

Once they reached the bedroom door, Lady Helena opened it and stepped inside. The conversation was happening tonight, it seemed.

They flanked the low-burning fire in the hearth, facing one another. “Engaged?” Lady Helena asked.

“Yes, evidently.” Ruth turned away and sat on the bed, dropping her face in her hands. “It cannot…I do not…” She groaned, pressing her fingers to her eyes and wishing the blackness would swallow her whole.

Lady Helena sat beside her, soothing her with a soft hand to her back. “Tonight has been…well, a good deal surprising to all of us. I am convinced this turn of events is no less shocking for you than it is for me. Do not concern yourself with the future just yet, Ruth. Do your best to sleep, and we will face it in the morning.”

Ruth lowered her hands, the tears gathering in her eyes threatening to spill over. She had what she wanted—Oliver. And yet, he was not hers. When she found a way to free him, she would be putting her family name in jeopardy and submitting the people she loved most to censure and ridicule. It was not a foreign concept to any of the Wycliffes. They had witnessed this very thing occur when Eliza’s sister was ruined a few years ago—Eliza’s prospects had been ruined in consequence, her family had ceased receiving invitations, and they were given the cut by people who had been their friends.

Ruth and her parents had stood by them throughout all of that. She knew well what she faced, and just thinking about it was utterly exhausting.

“I’ve long wondered if this was the case,” Lady Helena continued, “but neither of you gave any indication this was what lay in store for your future. Do you love him, Ruth?”

What else could she say but the truth? “I do.”

Lady Helena’s smile softened, her eyes glowing. “Then this is good news, even if it came about a bit more rushed than you would have liked. Your father will be thrilled.”

Thrilled? Ah, of course. Because he wanted her married. He would be far less happy once he learned of her plans to break the engagement, of course.

“I’ll let you sleep,” Lady Helena said, rising. “Mrs. Hull informed us of Mr. Edmonds’s progress after you left the drawing room. Fortunately, his waking is a good sign, but as with all head injuries, we will not know much about the state of his health until more time has passed.”

“That poor man. His sister must be distraught.”

Lady Helena agreed. “She has not left his side since he woke. It will surprise me if we are to remain beyond another day, Ruth.”

She nodded, understanding. They could not very well dance and laugh when a man lay ill and injured upstairs.

The real trouble was in deciding what to do once they returned to Harewood, and how quickly she ought to break the engagement. She cared about Oliver far too much to allow him to sacrifice himself only to avoid a scandal.

Lady Helena had been correct. When everyone was gathered in the parlor after breakfast the following morning, Lord Rocklin announced that out of respect for the Edmonds, the house party would be disbanded early. Ruth joined Catherine on the sofa, noting the woman’s frown.

“It is a shame we did not reach the musicale night,” Ruth said. “I was looking forward to hearing you play.”

Catherine glanced up, her golden curls bouncing. “I do not wish to sound insensitive, but I am exceedingly put out.” She sighed. “Though I know it cannot be helped.”

“There is no shame in your disappointment,” Ruth said. “Perhaps we will meet again soon. There are assemblies in Locksley in a few weeks’ time. Have you ever attended them?”

Catherine took her wrist in both hands. “Oh, Ruth. How kind of you to invite me! I will need a chaperone, of course, but I am certain Mrs. Watson could be persuaded to accompany me if my father wishes not to.”

Ruth’s smile froze on her mouth. She looked up, finding Lady Helena listening in with amusement. Well, it was done now. She could not very well suggest decent lodgings in Locksley at this point, could she?

“I will write to you with the details when I have them,” Ruth said. “I hope Jane would like to come.”

“She most certainly will.” Catherine’s sharp gaze cut from Ruth to where Oliver stood speaking to Mr. Bailey near the window. “Now that you have taken the most eligible bachelor here, we will need to make new plans.”

That was uncomfortable. Ruth gave a small smile, unclear if she was meant to find humor or rebuke in that sentiment. She rose to her feet, choosing escape above all. “There are certainly many gentlemen in Locksley who love to dance.”

Ruth caught Oliver’s gaze but looked away swiftly. They’d not spoken since last night, and her nerves buzzed just looking at him—there was no way she would be able to speak comprehensive sentences as well. She turned away, walking toward where Jane sat at the pianoforte, looking at music.

“Miss Wycliffe,” Oliver said, intercepting her before she reached Jane. Drat.

“Yes, Mr. Rose?” she asked, giving him a wide smile.

His confidence flickered. “I have not had the chance to speak to you today. Are you well?”

“Exceedingly.” She had not slept above a few hours the night before, tossing and turning and thinking of their kiss until dawn. Just now, looking at his lips, she wanted to do it again.

But a parlor filled with acquaintances was not the place for kissing. No, they really ought to be in a dark garden now. Or a small, empty room would suffice. Where was an antechamber when she needed one?

“I am not,” he said ruefully. “I hardly slept last night.”

Ruth looked into his green eyes and found the flecks of gold highlighted by the sunlight coming through the window. Her body yearned to lean forward, but the whiff of cedar and citrus coming from him now was already making her knees weak.

Oliver cleared his throat. “We plan to leave within the hour.”

Ruth nodded. “Sarah is packing my trunk now. We will likely do the same.”

“Shall I come directly to speak with your father?”

“Is that necessary?” she asked. She knew it was, but that made things feel so real .

Oliver rubbed the back of his neck. “It would be, yes, if we’d had a traditional courtship.”

“Nothing about us is traditional. ”

“I suppose not, but it is still important to me. Your father’s good opinion is important to me.”

She stepped closer so she could speak even more quietly, without being overheard. “We needn’t hurry anything along. You have more important things to concern yourself with at present. The last thing you need to worry about is this farce.”

“Farce?” He tucked his chin, leaning back in surprise. “I intend to go ahead with it, Ruth. We would hardly be able to avoid a scandal otherwise.”

Distraction. Scandal. No mention of feelings, of love. Her teeth clamped together while she searched for patience. Father would know best how to extricate them from this arrangement. Perhaps he could refuse Oliver’s suit and that would free them. She needed time to think.

“Wait until tomorrow,” she said. “I need to prepare him first.”

“Very well,” Oliver said. His dark hair fell over his forehead.

Ruth had the sudden urge to run her fingers through his hair. Blast, but this was harder than she thought. “I should probably see if Sarah needs me.”

“Your maid?” he asked, sounding exasperated. “You believe your maid needs your help packing?”

Ruth straightened her spine. “I am not utterly useless, Oliver. I can fold things.”

“It was not a skill for folding I questioned.”

“Oh? What, then?”

“Ruth, please.”

“Am I reacting badly?” she asked, fully aware that she was, indeed, overreacting. “Then allow me to?—”

“Ruth,” he said again, taking her hand. His voice was low, only for her. “What is happening? What can I do?”

He could clearly see her panic. She was doing a terrible job of hiding it, but she was exceedingly tired. Letting out a soft breath, she enjoyed the feeling of his fingers gently kneading her palm.

“This has all happened very quickly,” she said by explanation. “I still have a hard time believing…”

“That you will be my wife?”

The words had a physical power, hitting her in the chest with force. Be my wife . She wanted nothing more. No, that was not entirely true. She wanted him to want her to be his wife.

Oh, dear. Her thoughts were muddled.

“We will speak more tomorrow,” she promised, unable to answer him. “Surely the business with Papa’s mare will be finished by now. I will tell him to expect you.”

“That would be kind. Thank you.” His thumb brushed over the back of her hand. “I’m certain Rosaline misses you.”

Ruth thought of her horse, home and wondering why Ruth had not visited her in a week. “She is not alone in that. I intend to visit her the moment I return.”

A gentle smile touched his lips. “With apples from the very top of the tree, of course.”

“Well, I couldn’t expect her to eat the spoiled ones at the bottom, now could I?” she asked, fighting a smile.

“Forgive my interruption,” Lord Rocklin said, approaching them. “I wanted to let you know that your carriage is ready, Mr. Rose. Mr. Harding is waiting for you outside.”

Samuel. How could Ruth have forgotten him? She was vaguely aware of Oliver thanking their host for everything. Should she walk outside? Speak to Samuel? Or give him time?

Once Lord Rocklin left them, she pulled her hand free. “Have you spoken to Samuel?”

“I intend to do that while we ride home.”

She nodded, but the squirming in her stomach only grew. “Shall I speak to him?”

“It is probably better if I do so first. ”

She let out a tired breath. “Very well.”

Oliver tapped the bottom of her chin with his bent knuckle. “No need to frown, Ruth. Things will all work out.”

She wished she could believe him.