Page 23 of The Rules of Courtship (Hearts of Harewood #3)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Rule #23: Brothers can always be trusted to keep you humble

Ruth wasn’t certain she would ever experience anything as wonderful as the kiss she’d shared with Oliver in the garden, but when he had kissed her beneath the oak tree during their ride, she learned how very wrong she had been. The second kiss had been even better, and she had a feeling that would continue to be the case, so long as they remained engaged.

Their ride together had occurred two days ago, yet still her lips tingled when she thought of him.

She wasn’t fooling herself into believing their embrace had been a declaration on his part. Oliver had already been going through a difficult time. Coming home early from the house party to find his father already at Boone Park and so close to death’s door must have been a blow he had not been equipped to manage. She understood he had reached for her in a moment of need to help him forget everything else. She was a distraction. Despite herself, she liked being the person he ran to .

And, even further, she enjoyed being in his arms.

Ruth pushed the memory away and focused on guiding her horse toward the Ridley cottage where her dearest friend, Eliza, lived with her husband and their young apprentice, Peter. Her groom followed, waiting outside with Rosaline while Ruth knocked on the door.

Eliza opened it, surprised. “I thought you were at the house party for another week.”

“There was an accident that caused Lord Rocklin to politely ask us all to leave. It was an ordeal.”

“Goodness. Come in.”

Ruth stepped into the warm cottage, glad the windows were open to let in a breeze. “Oliver was racing with another gentleman—Mr. Edmonds, do you know him?”

Eliza shook her head, waddling toward the settee and lowering herself beside a set of knitting needles and a lump of yarn. Her stomach had seemed to grow in just the last few weeks. She puffed up her red cheeks, looking mildly uncomfortable. But she merely pulled her knitting onto her lap and looked at Ruth expectantly.

Ruth sat in the chair opposite her and explained Mr. Edmonds’s injury and the subsequent termination of the house party. “His sister was there with him, but without knowing the state of his health, we couldn’t very well dance on the floor below where he laid.”

“No, I imagine not.”

“How have you been?” Ruth asked.

“Ready to not have little legs kicking me from the inside,” Eliza said. She lowered her knitting and let out another puff of air. “I cannot sleep very well, and I am always uncomfortable. None of that matters. I just want to hold my babe in my arms so badly, I am feverish for it.”

Ruth smiled. “Hopefully, she will arrive soon.”

“She? ”

“There are enough little boys in Harewood. We could use a girl.”

Eliza laughed. “Not too soon. I’ve over a month left to wait. How did things go with my cousins?”

Ruth shrugged, glancing away. “Samuel and I have made something of a truce. We learned we are not compatible, but I did try, Lizzie. I did away with my rules for a time and gave him an opportunity to prove me wrong. It had the benefit of vastly improving our friendship, though, so I cannot regret it.”

Eliza nodded. “I expected as much, but I thought it was worth exploring. He is a good man.”

“And a funny one,” Ruth added. “Clever, handsome, and kind.”

“But not…enough?” Eliza asked.

“It is not that.” Ruth drew in a breath for courage. “He is not Oliver.”

Eliza dropped her knitting on the floor, staring at her friend. “Did I hear you correctly?”

“We are engaged,” Ruth said.

Eliza’s mouth fell open. “You did not think to begin our conversation with that?”

“It is not a real engagement.” Ruth stood, pacing to the small, square window. She needed air. “We were found kissing in the garden?—”

“Kissing!”

“—and Oliver contrived the engagement to save my reputation. Nothing more.”

“ Kissing ?” Eliza repeated. “Now you really must start from the beginning.”

Ruth turned back to face her, leaning against the wall.

“But first, can you pick up my needles?” Eliza asked. “I can no longer bend that far.”

When the entirety of the ordeal was explained to Eliza in excruciating detail, Ruth continued to tell her of the ride she had shared with Oliver two days previously and the second kiss that had transpired.

“He was acting strangely,” Ruth admitted, “but that cannot be helped. His father is dying.”

Eliza stared down at the bundle of yarn in her lap. She closed her eyes and breathed out slowly.

“Is it the baby?” Ruth asked, leaning forward in her seat.

“No.” Eliza leaned back on the settee, putting her knitting on the cushion beside her. “My father came to speak to me yesterday. I know what is ailing Oliver, and it is not quite what you think.”

Ruth’s heart pounded, her pulse thrumming through her body. Again, Oliver had a hardship and did not share it with her. It explained his behavior when they rode together a few days ago, but it did not explain why he felt he could not confide in her.

Eliza cringed. “You really ought to hear it from him. It is not my information to share.”

“But you know it.”

“I do.”

“Is there another woman?” Ruth asked, holding her breath.

“No, nothing like that. It is…personal…to Oliver. It has nothing to do with matters of the heart. At least, not in the way you imagine.”

“So it will not affect his relationship with me? He is determined to use his mourning to give us time to find a way to break our engagement, but I…” Ruth caught her breath, finding herself whispering, afraid to speak the words aloud that she felt so deeply in her heart. “I do not want to break it.”

“You love him,” Eliza said, her smile warming.

Ruth closed her eyes. “I do. As much as I want to remain with him forever, however, I cannot force him into a marriage he does not desire.”

“If he wants to end the engagement, he is probably doing so for your benefit. Wait until he shares this information with you, and you will understand.”

But Ruth did not want to wait. She wanted Oliver to feel he could trust her.

Male voices sounded through the window, coming toward the cottage, and Eliza picked up her knitting and resumed making her blanket. She smiled softly, widening her eyes in a silent message.

Ruth likely looked as forlorn as she felt. She covered her disappointment as the door opened to admit Eliza’s husband, Jacob, with Ryland just behind him.

“Brother,” Ruth said, surprised at how even her voice sounded. “I did not expect to see you here. Have you brought Aurelia?”

“Not today,” he said, shooting her an amused look. “She is working with Edmund on a surprise at home just now.”

“For your birthday?” Ruth asked.

“It is actually why I’ve called,” Ryland said, ignoring the question. He dipped his head to Eliza. “Good day, Mrs. Ridley. Forgive my sister’s rudeness.”

“I am familiar with Ruth’s lack of conformity. You did not bring Peter with you?”

“The lads need more time, so I will convey him home this afternoon, if that suits?”

“He would far prefer to spend his day with Edmund and Tom than managing the bellows for me,” Jacob said. His cheek was dark from the forge, sweat glistening on his forehead.

“You have Tom as well?” Ruth asked. She had been so lost in her own mind that she had not noticed the lack of her younger brother’s presence at home that morning.

“Yes.” Ryland ran a hand through his hair. “Aurelia is insisting on having a small dinner party on my birthday so the boys can perform their surprise for all of us. I insisted we keep it very intimate, but we would like to invite you both.”

“What of me?” Ruth asked.

“You are not invited,” Ryland said easily. “I cannot have my sister making something out of nothing, and the fact that this dinner is on my birthday is but a mere coincidence.”

Everyone in the room knew him to be grossly underestimating his wife. They also knew him to be teasing his sister.

“Thank you. I would love to come,” Ruth said, as if her brother had been extending a heartfelt invitation instead.

“As would we,” Eliza added.

“A fortnight from tomorrow,” Ryland explained. “But I shan’t keep you. Ruth, shall I see you home?”

“I have Jameson with me.”

“I can see you home,” he repeated.

Ruth gave Eliza an exaggerated head shake. “I think he would like to see me home. Can I bring you anything?”

“I will never refuse biscuits.”

“Then I will see you tomorrow.” Ruth reached for Eliza’s hand and gave it a soft squeeze before following her brother and Jacob outside. She dipped a curtsy to Jacob, then watched him retreat to his forge.

Jameson waited with both of their horses near the tree, so Ruth made her way toward him.

Ryland lifted his hat to run a hand through his dark auburn hair. “Ruth, I would like to speak to you. I was going to stop at your house after visiting with the Ridleys.”

“Oh?” She knew why he wanted to talk, but a conversation with her older brother about matters of the heart was not on her list of comfortable situations. She took her horse’s reins from the groom. “What about?”

“Ruth,” Ryland repeated .

She stopped and let out a sigh, dropping her arms from Rosaline’s reins.

“I was just at Boone Park,” he said.

Perhaps she did not know his intent after all. She glanced at him, trying to hide how interested she was in what he had to say. “How is Oliver?”

“Not well.”

“I offered to free him from the engagement, but he insists on keeping up the ruse for the time being.”

Ryland watched her closely. “He did not tell me it was a ruse.”

She shrugged. “Likely to save me the embarrassment.”

“I think you need to explain.”

“Can we ride while I do so?” she countered, taking Rosaline by the reins again. Jameson approached, his fingers laced to give her a step so she could boost herself into her saddle.

“Very well.”

They made their way onto the road and up the High Street, through the center of Harewood, allowing Ruth time to collect her thoughts. She had not hesitated to tell Eliza the truth of the situation, because Eliza was her dearest friend. She could not withhold the truth from her, and she had needed someone to confide in, someone she trusted to offer advice who knew the whole of it. Conversely, Ryland was arguably Oliver’s closest friend, and he had not done the same.

Did Ryland know the things Eliza had hinted at? Whatever secrets Oliver was keeping, something didn’t feel right.

“I am struggling to understand precisely what happened,” Ryland said when they had made it away from town and the curious people who might overhear. Jameson fell back, riding far enough behind them not to know what they spoke of. “I hadn’t any notion that either of you felt anything beyond friendship. And Oliver…well, he seemed overwhelmed.”

She drew in a breath, shoved aside her embarrassment, and explained the entire ordeal to Ryland, culminating in Oliver’s advice to wait to break the engagement.

“If you love the man, tell him so,” Ryland said.

She had not admitted as much, but it should not have been too great a surprise that her brother could read her feelings as she’d explained what had happened. She hardly wanted to disclose that marriage to Oliver would be a different kind of torment if he did not feel equally about her. Ruth settled on another truth, instead. “It is hardly the time to worry about my future when his father is dying.”

Ryland nodded. “He does not take loss very well, either. The man has been left behind too many times already.” His voice held an edge of warning. Ruth had the impression he was cautioning her not to hurt his friend.

He needn’t have worried. If anyone would be breaking hearts, it certainly was not going to be Ruth.

“I look forward to your party,” she said, steering the conversation away.

“Will you give the details to our parents? I should be returning to Aurelia now. She is a master at wrangling the lads, but I do not like to leave her alone for long if I can help it.”

“Of course.” She bit her tongue and refrained from pointing out that he had intended to see her home, lifting her hand in a farewell as he turned his horse and rode away. His desire to return to his wife was very understandable.

Ruth fought the temptation to ride for Oliver’s house and directed her horse home, instead.

The church service was longer than usual the following Sunday, causing Ruth an inordinate amount of anxious tapping. She was fidgeting worse than her young brother, and Tom was not yet ten years old. It was difficult to remain still when watching the back of Oliver’s head, where he sat two rows ahead of them.

Papa had been waiting for Oliver to come and see him, but as of yet, there had been no meeting made. Ruth was eager to speak to him, which made the service stretch on, her attention flagging. She chanced a glance at her father and found a slight increase between his brows as he, too, looked at Oliver. Was Papa upset? Confused? He had the right to feel both of those things after a man had announced an engagement with his daughter, then failed to speak to him about it. It was not in Oliver’s nature to put off a meeting like this, especially not one with Papa, which made Ruth believe his problems at home were far worse than she had previously imagined.

And still he would not confide in her.

When Mr. Chatham finally brought his thoughts to a close, Ruth’s heart hammered. She had not spoken to Oliver since they had departed the evening of their ride together. He had been holed up in his house all week with his family. Indeed, she had been surprised to see him walk into the church that morning.

When everyone rose after the service had ended, Ruth tried to follow Oliver’s movements through the church. She was stopped outside her pew by Mrs. Hanson, a widow who lived on the High Street.

“You look beautiful today, dear. Is it true? I heard the news, and I am exceedingly happy for you.”

Ruth gritted her teeth, watching Oliver slowly make his way toward the door. He was getting away. “What do you refer to?”

“Your engagement, dear. We are overjoyed for you. It is time, do you not think?” She had a twinkle in her eye when she leaned in. “You are not too old to bear children yet, though. Do not fear.”

“It had not crossed my mind,” Ruth said with a smile. Inside, she seethed. Old? She was not yet twenty-five. “If you will excuse me?— ”

“You will want to marry him quickly, dear,” Mrs. Hanson continued. “If he goes into mourning, you might miss your chance.”

Ruth swallowed her retort, watching Oliver slip outside. “I must go. Thank you.” She brushed past the matron and down the aisle, making it outside in time to see Oliver climb into his curricle and take the reins from one of his grooms. She stood on the lawn while a warm breeze swept over her neck and watched him drive away, his frown evident from here. Something was very wrong.