Page 26 of The Rules of Courtship (Hearts of Harewood #3)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Rule #26: Never allow yourself to be alone with a man for whom you share a mutual attraction…Mother has already explained precisely where that is likely to lead

Oliver swallowed. Wycliffe had taken the news exactly as he had expected, given the nature of things he was revealing. It was not in Wycliffe’s best interest to align his daughter with a man who could be ruined within the next few months, even if he liked the man.

What had come as a surprise to Oliver was Wycliffe’s response, however. He wanted to discuss the situation with Lady Helena and converse again tomorrow. Wycliffe had already been aware of the money Boone Park owed the bank and the pressure Oliver was under, but he needed time to consider the matter of Oliver’s parentage. Ruth’s dowry would be hers and would keep her safe in the case that Boone Park suffered, but an additional settlement would be required to save the house if Captain Rose had not left part of his fortune to Oliver—additional money Wycliffe could not provide. His funds were tied up in his horses at present. The timing was not ideal.

At least this way they could break the engagement without harming Ruth’s good name beyond reparation.

Now that Ruth had dragged him into the dark music room alone, he was not thinking about marriage settlements and missing fathers anymore. The long-case clock ticked loudly, his swallow as audible as his thrumming pulse.

“I feel I am owed an explanation, Oliver,” she said.

“You are owed multiple,” he countered, unable to tear his eyes from her. Did she feel the palpable energy between them? It was as though the kiss in the garden had unlocked something within him, making him long for her whenever she was away, to grow desperate for her the moment she was near. Nothing in the world made him forget his trials as she did—nothing made him feel complete the way Ruth did.

“You may begin,” she said magnanimously, though her hands were still resting on her waist impatiently.

He needed to spit the words out, to have it done with. “When Captain Rose was dying, he made a confession that was corroborated by his brother. Apparently, he is not my father.”

Ruth merely blinked at him, so he continued. “Jacob Ridley’s father is.” Oliver explained the whole of the situation to her: how Captain Rose had confessed the truth. How Diana was his mother, so they had contrived to find a way for him to be brought up in his family without a stain on his name. How they had fictionalized Joanna Rose, the woman he believed to have been his mother. How Jacob Ridley’s father had not known of Oliver’s existence.

How Oliver could no longer trust the truth to remain a secret, which would put her at risk of a scandal were it to be revealed at any time in the future .

He told her of his grandmother’s debt and the inheritance left to him, how he could not provide a life flush with finer things. His efforts to revive Boone Park and create a working estate would continue for several more years.

Ruth remained silent while Oliver explained how wholly unacceptable he was—both financially and in reputation.

She stared at him, unblinking. “You think I care so much for money I would prefer gowns and bonnets to you ?”

Oliver had no ready response.

Ruth shook her head. “Surely you must know how little weight I place upon the negative opinions of others. Did my efforts to remain stalwart at Eliza’s side all these years go unnoticed by you? She had sunk below reproach, her reputation in tatters, and not once did I shrink away from her.”

“Of course not, Ruth.” It had been evident that she had put her friend’s feelings above that of a judgmental society. This was different. This stain would seep into the next generation were it to be discovered. It could affect any children they had in the future.

Children. The very idea made his blood hum. He imagined Ruth at his side, a baby wrapped tightly in a blanket and nestled against her shoulder. To know they would work together to bring that child up in the world to become a good person and continue the Rose legacy.

If there was a house and a legacy remaining to leave behind, that was.

Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes to block out the distracting sight of Ruth. “It is simple to claim you would be unbothered, but living through it would be another matter entirely.”

“Yet it has remained a secret all these years. Why do you believe it will not remain so any longer?”

He passed his hand down his face, inhaling slowly and hoping the best words would come to him. “The more people who know something, the more likely it is to not remain a secret. I feel it is important to warn you about the potential. I do hope it never comes to light in greater society, but we must be prepared for that possible eventuality.”

He did not want to tell her that his aunt and uncle had been angry with him for inheriting Boone Park, and if things did not go as they hoped during the reading of Captain Rose’s will, he feared how they would retaliate.

“I see.” She lowered her hands, clasping them lightly in front of her. In the violet riding habit, her hat perched on her head and the high collar that draped down snugly over her shoulders and arms, she looked regal, foreboding. She was a force. “What if I tell you that my feelings for you run deeper than the possibility of a little rumor?”

Oliver’s body froze. He heard the words, but they took a moment to sink in. Feelings? Could Ruth possibly be saying what he thought? All this time he had known they were friends, that she cared for him on some level. But the implication that they could have begun to run deeper than friendship simmered beneath his skin with equal parts fear and excitement.

A niggling in the back of his mind wondered if it was the result of the kiss or the reason for it.

“When did you begin to feel this way?” he asked, glad his voice remained even.

She held his gaze resolutely. “The house party. The evening in the garden.”

A result of the kiss, then. He could not trust it to be lasting or deep. She had nestled in his head, remaining there for every waking moment since that kiss. Oliver loved her, but he also knew her feelings might not run as deep as she imagined they did. If she was wrapped up in the romance of their shared moments, she could have been influenced by those emotions and not as fully in love as she believed .

He could not very well sentence her to a life married to an illegitimate if her feelings were fleeting. As much as it pained him to admit to himself, Ruth needed some time away from him—void of physical connection—to understand her mind fully.

Leaning away from her, he nodded. “Your father has not made a decision. If we are fortunate, he will find the prospect unsavory and forbid the union. I will not mind taking the blame and you will be free to find someone else without significant repercussions.”

“You cannot be serious, Oliver. Did you not understand me? I want to marry you.”

He understood that she believed that to be the case, of course. “It is unwise to make any decisions until we know the full situation.”

She let out a frustrated huff. “Do you care at all for how I feel?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then why does the will have anything to say for it? I am willing to weather whatever storms we must, be they financial or a battered reputation. Do you not think we would be happy regardless?”

Pain lacerated him at the look of hurt that flashed across her eyes. She did not understand, but he was helping her. She just could not see it now. “Ruth, do not make this more difficult than it must be.”

“I am doing that?” She scoffed. “You could simplify the whole of it if you would only accept me now. March back into my father’s study and tell him you love me. That is all he needs in order to provide his blessing. He cares not for money or status. Surely you know that.”

Oliver blinked. She was correct. He had the power to do just that, and he would be telling the truth if he admitted his feelings to her father.

Ruth must have sensed his resolve weakening. She stepped forward, taking him by the arms and willing him to look at her. “You do love me, do you not? I cannot believe you would look at me in the way you do unless it was out of love.”

She had seen directly through him. He searched for the words to explain, but none came.

Sliding her hands up his arms, Ruth cupped his face, her soft palms cradling his jaw with such care and affection, he felt emotion surge to his eyes. He had been trying to be so strong for himself, his uncle, his family members these last few weeks, and one small touch from her crumbled him entirely.

“Please, Oliver. I love you.”

He closed his eyes. “You think you do.”

“What?” She stilled, her hands freezing in place.

“How are you certain these feelings are not a result of sharing a few romantic moments together? I cannot in good conscience allow you to tie yourself to me if they are fleeting.”

He thought for a moment she would step away, but she did the opposite. Brushing her thumb along his cheekbone, she willed him to look into her eyes yet again. “Answer me, Oliver. Do you love me?”

His eyes drifted closed. He could not lie to her. “Yes.”

She sucked in a quiet breath, her hands sliding around the back of his neck. Burying her head against his chest, she clung to him. Oliver breathed in her familiar scent, tilting his head to avoid a collision with her riding hat. He kissed her temple. “Do you not understand that it is my feelings for you which dictate our need to avoid a union?”

“Now you are being silly,” she said, her voice muffled by his coat lapel. “Together, we can face anything. Together . You must quit avoiding me when you face difficulties. It hurts, and I want to be here for you, Oliver. You do not need to face your trials alone anymore.”

Her words were a salve over his pain. The possibility that she could be right, that he would not have to be alone any longer, filled him with hope.

Ruth burrowed into him, and he felt that nothing else mattered but this woman. Inhaling her familiar scent, he forced his heart to keep beating, his lungs to keep breathing. “And if your feelings are not?—”

“You do not get to say what my feelings are,” Ruth said. “If I grow bored of you in a year, then I suppose I will take up knitting. Eliza can teach me.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“It sounds ridiculous,” she countered, leaning back to look him in the eye, “because it will never happen.”

She made it sound easy, that they must merely make the choice and the rest would work itself out.

“Please do not give up on me,” she whispered.

Gads. Despite himself, Oliver had no choice in the matter. Even in this, he could not find it in himself to refuse her. Could she be correct? Could their love conquer whatever else was thrown at them? It came down to making a decision and standing by it. In this, he wanted to choose Ruth. He wanted them to choose each other.

“I will not,” he promised. “I could never give up on you.”

A brilliant smile spread over her lips. She dropped her gaze to his mouth when the door opened, and a voice cut through the room.

“I’ve found them,” Wycliffe said dryly.

Oliver released Ruth, stepping back at once.

Ruth glanced over her shoulder, frowning. “What is it? We are engaged, Papa,” she reminded him.

“We can discuss that later,” he said. “Right now, Oliver is needed at home.”

“Papa—”

Wycliffe lifted a hand to quiet her and set his attention on Oliver. “Samuel is here for you. You have visitors at Boone Park, and they refuse to speak to anyone but you.”

“Who are they?” he asked, pulling at his cuffs and straightening his coat. Embarrassment climbed up his neck.

Samuel stepped around Wycliffe, a concerned frown on his brow. He looked between them, shook his head, and said, “They claim to be Captain Rose’s family.”