Page 19 of The Rules of Courtship (Hearts of Harewood #3)

Chapter Nineteen

SAMUEL

Rule #19: When one route does not work, pivot

It was all well and good to convince oneself not to love a particular woman, but believing it was another matter entirely. Logic prevailed, but the heart was not so easily persuaded. Despite the proof that Ruth wasn’t his mysterious letter writer, Samuel felt a blow upon learning she’d engaged herself to Oliver. He sat in the quiet carriage on the journey home, the conversation dipping between the house party and their friends at home between long stretches of silence.

Once they reached the outskirts of Harewood, Oliver faced him head on. “We need to speak about this before we separate, or I will not sleep at all tonight.”

“Go on, then,” Samuel said, tensing.

“I have not spoken to Wycliffe yet. If this union will hurt you, Sam, I will find a way to see it ended.”

Samuel glanced at his lap. It spoke much of Oliver’s character that he was willing to sacrifice a relationship with Ruth for Samuel’s benefit. Especially given how deeply Oliver obviously cared about Ruth.

“You needn’t do that,” Samuel finally said. “I had already accepted things would never progress between Ruth and I. Indeed, I am glad for you.”

Oliver frowned, observing him through concerned, narrowed eyes.

“It is true.” Samuel leaned back, watching Harewood come into view. They would be home soon, and he would immediately search out the kissing gate.

“Thank you, Sam.” Oliver let out a sigh. “I can only hope my conversation with Wycliffe will go as smoothly.”

“It will. The man adores you.”

“Adores?” Oliver laughed. “I am not a horse.”

“No, but you are perfectly aware how much he approves of you. He would not have spent the last few years assisting you with your land and holdings if he did not.”

Oliver rubbed his chin. “He is a good neighbor.”

Samuel gave him a look.

“Very well,” Oliver muttered, conceding. “We have developed a friendship. I think when I approach him and request his daughter’s hand, though, he might very well alter how he feels about me. It is one thing to be a good neighbor and friend, but another thing entirely to ask if I can take his favorite child away.”

Amusement sparked in Samuel’s chest. “You think she is the favorite?”

“They have a special relationship. She is the only piece of his first wife he has left and his only daughter. He is protective, with good reason.”

“Do not fret, Oliver. Wycliffe will be overjoyed at the prospect of gaining you for a son-in-law. Besides, if you marry his beloved Ruth, she will forever live at the estate neighboring his. I suspect that will be a point in your favor as well. ”

It was clear Oliver did not believe him, but Samuel let him stew in his concern. It was better for him to worry over this than the state of his father’s health, surely. Besides, they would be home shortly.

“This is all your fault, you know,” Oliver said.

“How is that?”

“You told me I would leave the house party an engaged man. Do you recall? I had not realized you were cursing me.”

“Or was it a blessing?” Samuel asked, shooting him a grin.

Oliver’s answering smile was proof enough about how he truly felt. “What will Ryland say?”

“He will be happy for you.”

Oliver nodded. It seemed the most likely answer.

Samuel looked at the shops on the High Street as they passed, looking for women he knew who might be out this afternoon.

Could a man love two women simultaneously? Samuel had hoped Ruth was his letter-writer, but since it was not her, that meant he had been developing feelings for his writer as he had been pursuing Ruth.

Furthermore, could a man love a woman he had not met? Samuel was certain his feelings for his writing friend were growing real, that she was someone he could see himself sitting in front of the fire with on long, cold nights, or chatting amiably with over dinner. Their conversation was invigorating and interesting. Surely it would be no different were they to speak in person.

He would not know until he tried. Whoever this woman was, Samuel needed to find her.

Samuel did not enter his house when Oliver let him out. He saw to it his trunk was carried inside, then followed the path that led along his father’s land. A cloud of dust was still settling in Oliver’s wake as his carriage left, but Samuel skirted the remnants and made his way toward the trees. The path to his letter was not short by any means—it was a miracle he had found it to begin with.

Twenty minutes later, he reached the kissing gate and let himself through. There, tucked in the loose rock halfway down the stone wall, was a small, folded rectangle. His smile stretched when he turned it over to see it was not the letter he had left behind, and he tucked it into his pocket. Had he needed further proof Ruth was not penning these letters, the timing of this was it. He had left his last letter just before leaving for Lord Rocklin’s house, and he had returned to Harewood before Ruth—they had driven away before she had even finished packing.

Breathing in a deep lungful of air, Samuel found himself smiling the whole of his walk back home.

When he let himself inside, however, the flurry of motion made him take pause. “What is it, Howe?” he asked his family’s butler as he shrugged from his overcoat.

“Your father has returned home earlier than planned.”

Samuel froze. “And my uncle?”

“Mr. Charles Rose is with Captain Rose at Boone Park. Mr. Harding returned here to eat and change, but he intends to join them again shortly.”

“Thank you, Howe.” Samuel moved toward the stairs, taking them two at a time until he reached his father’s chamber. He listened quietly, glad to hear an absence of his mother’s voice before knocking at the door. She was likely in the midst of her regular afternoon nap.

“Enter,” his father called.

Samuel pushed the door open, closing it behind himself upon finding his father in his shirtsleeves, attempting to tie his cravat with the help of his oval mirror.

“How is Captain Rose?” It was telling that Samuel rarely called the man Uncle William . He had been far removed from them in Harewood, spending his life on ships elsewhere and only visiting for short periods of time.

Father’s hands went slack, and he looked over his shoulder. It was immediately apparent things were not good.

“I do not know how much time he has left,” Father said.

“Then why did you make the journey with him home?”

“For Oliver, mostly. But for my brother-in-law, as well. He deserves to spend his last few days in his own home instead of that of a stranger.”

Samuel nodded, his mouth going dry.

“He has a fortune,” Father muttered, returning to the mirror to finish tying his cravat. “Earned it from being on those ships for so many years. I never understood why he did not chase advancement, but being a captain meant he had more access to prize ships, I suppose.”

“Or perhaps he enjoyed the position. Not everyone has a mind single to gaining money.”

Father snorted. “Oliver is going to be a rich man very soon.”

Samuel’s stomach flipped, disgust filtering through him. Oliver was a wealthy man already, and seeking after money had never been a priority of his. “I think, if given the choice, he would prefer to have his father instead.” He did not wait for a reply but left the room, banging through the door before hurrying down the steps. He needed to be at Boone Park now .

Oliver needed him.