Page 4 of The Rules of Courtship (Hearts of Harewood #3)

Chapter Four

Rule #4: Jealousy should be reserved for horses

Lord Rocklin’s house was nearly an hour from Harewood. The Wycliffe women endured the entire ride during a summer rainstorm that rocked the carriage and made Lady Helena ill. Ruth spent the ride rubbing her stepmother’s back and periodically pounding on the ceiling to stop the carriage when she thought Lady Helena might be sick.

When they arrived at the Rocklin estate, Mrs. Hull, the housekeeper, showed them to their rooms straight away, while Mama’s maid went to fetch ginger tea. Ruth helped her stepmother into her dressing gown and under the bedclothes. Her deep chestnut hair was unfastened, splaying on the pillow behind her head.

“Will you try to eat something?” Ruth asked. She dipped a cloth in cool water and twisted most of the water out before resting it on Lady Helena’s forehead.

“I could not.” Lady Helena closed her eyes. “Forgive me, darling. Can you go to dinner on your own, or shall we request a tray for the evening?”

“You needn’t worry about me. What can I fetch for you before I leave?”

Lady Helena opened her eyes. Her skin was pale. “Sleep.”

Ruth nodded, standing. “Sarah will help me dress. Shall I ask her to check on you when she’s finished?”

“I hope I will be sleeping, so I’m tempted to refuse the offer. Anna should be with me shortly.”

“I’ll peek in after dinner, then.”

Lady Helena smiled. “What have I done to deserve you?”

“We both know I am the true motivation you had in marrying my father.”

“Of course,” she said, playing along, though her voice sounded weak. “Gaining a daughter was my priority. Love had nothing at all to do with it.”

Ruth kissed her stepmother on the cheek. She made certain the drapes were closed tightly, then slipped from the room. Laughter traveled from downstairs, reaching Ruth in the corridor outside her bedchamber. Being alone in an unfamiliar house, her ally abed and strangers gathering in the drawing room, was overwhelming. She already felt as though she had been put in a barrel and sent spinning down a hillside. She dressed quickly, eager not to be the final person to arrive in the drawing room before dinner. It would be disorienting to miss all the introductions before sitting at the table.

Sarah stood behind her at the dressing table, smoothing her hair and pinning it into place. “Does Lady Helena require any assistance?”

“Anna should be with her now.” Ruth tapped her foot anxiously, waiting for the final pins to be placed.

“You seem nervous, miss.”

“I really am,” Ruth said honestly. “I’ve no idea why. The entire house is not made up of strangers. I should be familiar with a good portion of the people in attendance.”

“But you expected to walk into the drawing room with Lady Helena. Doing so alone?—”

“Will be grand,” Ruth said with an overly bright smile. Sarah had managed to identify precisely what had caused Ruth’s anxious foot-tapping. “I will find Oliver straight away and everything will be well.”

Papa’s request to help Oliver find a decent wife floated in the periphery of Ruth’s thoughts as she made her way down the stairs, the din of conversation and laughter making her hands shake with agitation. She was not qualified to assist with that endeavor—she would much rather find a match for Samuel.

The idea of sitting in church and watching Oliver pledge himself to another was…strange. The man’s mind was forever on his land, estate, and responsibilities. He did not think of anything else. How could he possibly consider a woman? Besides, he was far more reasonable than Ruth. He would not need her approval to know a lady was worth pursuing.

Ruth smoothed her hands down her blue silk evening gown and approached the footmen standing at the doors, tugging her gloves past her elbows. She smiled at them before entering the drawing room, her gaze moving from group to group. There were hardly more than a half-dozen people present, and only one of them a gentleman of marrying age. The other two men looked old enough to be her father or, in one case, her grandfather.

“Oliver,” she murmured to herself. She needed Oliver. Her gaze sought the small groupings for his familiar dark, pomaded hair with no luck. Where were his steady eyes and reliable countenance to keep her from appearing foolish and alone?

Lord Rocklin approached her, looking just as she recalled. He was missing two teeth from his overly wide smile, giving her a grin that lingered as though he was waiting for something .

“Miss Wycliffe.” He dipped his head in unnecessary deference. “We are so pleased you could make it.” He glanced over her shoulder. “And Lady Helena?”

Ah, so that was whom he was waiting for. “The carriage ride didn’t agree with her,” Ruth replied, “but I’m certain you shall see her in the morning.”

He affected a proper amount of disappointment. “Of course, of course. How terrible. Tell my housekeeper if there is anything we can do.”

“Her maid is very capable.”

“Yes, naturally.” Lord Rocklin nodded along, his smile still lingering, showcasing that dark gap where a tooth ought to be. How very uncomfortable. Did it bother him when he chewed? “Come, Miss Wycliffe. Meet Mr. Kellinger,” he said, turning her to face a gentleman who was at least two decades older than her, his dark hair liberally salted with gray.

Ruth dipped into a curtsy as the viscount finished the introduction. “Good evening, sir,” she said.

“Welcome to the most beautiful part of England, Miss Wycliffe.”

“Do you live nearby?”

“No, and I nearly was unable to travel here. It was a great effort for me to leave behind my dear Phillipa, but she has contracted a mild case of colic and I left her in capable hands.”

Ruth hadn’t the slightest notion of how to reply to this speech. The illness must have been very mild indeed for him to feel comfortable leaving his wife to attend a house party.

“Capital,” Lord Rocklin said. “Come, Miss Wycliffe. I must show you to my daughters.”

She had met them before on a handful of occasions, but it had been well over a year since she had seen them at any balls or parties.

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” Ruth said, smiling at Mr. Kellinger, who dipped in a shallow bow. She took Lord Rocklin’s offered arm with the barest of touches and let him lead her to a small group standing near the bookcases. Two young ladies stepped away from the older couple they were speaking to, whom Ruth immediately recognized to be the Watsons. Lady Helena would be glad to see them.

Ruth would prefer to greet the older couple, but the Temple sisters were blinking at her expectantly. They were not identical in appearance, but she knew them to be twins. Their hair was fair, their skin pale, and their cheeks rosy. One wore a soft pink gown, and the other wore white, both of them with gauzy, flowy skirts and small flowers dotting their hair. Their smiles were angelic, adding to the overall aura they each had of sweetness and innocence. It was a powerful effect, and Ruth only wished she had the hair color and complexion to do the same. But she was far too dark-haired, her skin a touch too tanned from the sun.

“Catherine and Jane,” Lord Rocklin said. “You remember Miss Ruth Wycliffe.”

The ladies both dipped in curtsies, their smiles polite.

“Of course,” Catherine said. “Such a pleasure to see you again. Welcome to our home.”

“I was hoping to speak to you tonight,” Jane added, glancing at her sister. “We both were.”

“Indeed?” Lord Rocklin said with a wide smile. “Then I think you’d like for your old father to leave you to it. Young ladies ought to have many secrets. I wouldn’t wish to get in the way of that.”

“Yes, please,” Catherine said, her gaze remaining on Ruth.

Dismissed, Lord Rocklin scurried away to join the other group, his jovial voice loud above the chatter in the room. Ruth watched him leave, still searching the room for Oliver with no luck.

“We have planned the most wonderful schedule,” Jane said, “and we hoped to have a musicale one of the evenings. Would you sing or play an instrument? We are hoping all the young ladies will participate.”

“There won’t be many,” Catherine said. “We are expecting one more, which leaves us with four. But too many ladies can make for an excessively long evening of piano music. Anyway, we could only invite as many people as we have beds for, and our Papa would invite some of his friends as well.”

Goodness, she had managed to say much of that without any break to breathe.

“The music?” Jane prompted.

“I should be happy to,” Ruth said.

“Wonderful.” Bless Jane, but she truly seemed pleased by this news. It banished faint wispy thoughts of a possible competitive nature between them.

“I imagine most of these people are strangers to you,” Catherine said. “We didn’t invite many people from Harewood.”

“I am always eager to make new friends.” Ruth was still uncertain whether the Temple twins had ulterior motives of some sort. She liked them, and Jane seemed genuine, but their watchful eyes made her feel unsteady.

Movement near the door caught her attention, and Samuel stepped inside. His golden hair was combed neatly, and his clothing, while uncommonly bright, was more subdued than normal.

“So handsome,” Catherine breathed.

“Indeed,” Jane agreed. “How can you live near such men and not fall in love with them, Miss Wycliffe?”

“Easily,” Ruth said, looking at Samuel as he searched the room for a familiar face—her face, perhaps. She agreed he was objectively handsome, of course, but he did not instill her with a sense of awe. His looks were not so handsome that they eclipsed his ridiculous nature. Who else would wear violet waistcoats beneath bottle green jackets? “They are my brother’s closest friends, and we have adopted a similar relationship. ”

“Brothers?” Catherine laughed quietly. “I would have a difficult time considering them as such.”

“You only have me,” Jane said. “How would you know what a brother is meant to feel like?”

Catherine shot her sister a glare, which made Ruth laugh. “I have two brothers, but when you count their friends, the number triples at the very least,” Ruth said. “My life is overrun with them.” Despite her rules that kept Samuel at a safe distance, Ruth was inordinately grateful to see him now—the only comfortably familiar face in the room.

She had turned back to catch his eye, ready to gesture him toward them, when Oliver stepped into the room. Her breath caught. He looked dashing in a dark blue superfine coat and starched white cravat. His dark hair was pomaded neatly, a curl bouncing out of place and regally falling over his forehead as though directed there by design, though she knew he did not partake in tricks such as that. His green eyes searched the room while he leaned in and said something quietly to Samuel.

“I’m glad you think they feel like brothers,” Jane said quietly, “so you and I can remain friends.”

Ruth didn’t have time to consider the implications of that sentence before Oliver’s gaze locked on her. His mouth flicked into a brief smile, sending a flurry through her stomach, before he nodded her way. Samuel noticed her as well, though his smile was much wider. Together, they started toward her.

“They’re coming this way!” Catherine whispered. “Do I have anything in my teeth?”

“We haven’t eaten yet,” Jane whispered back. “You just cleaned them.”

Catherine sucked on her teeth anyway, smoothing down her bodice.

Ruth couldn’t help but chuckle. “You both look beautiful.”

They gave her grateful smiles.

“Ruth,” Samuel said, dipping in a bow. “Miss Temple, Miss Jane. Have you all had the fortune of meeting my cousin, Mr. Rose?”

“We have,” Jane said, her smile so wide Ruth would worry for the state of her mental health if she had not known how eager this young woman was to meet the Harewood men. “Welcome to our home.”

“We are glad to have you both,” Catherine said. “What a joy it was to hear that you would be joining us this week.”

Samuel glanced at Oliver briefly before laying his smile on Ruth. “You have Miss Wycliffe to thank for that. When we heard she was to be attending, we immediately cleared our schedules so we could be here as well.”

Ruth’s cheeks warmed, though she hadn’t the least notion why. “He is being intolerably silly, of course.”

Samuel’s grin didn’t falter, which, strangely, only confirmed her claim.

“If I could have your attention,” Lord Rocklin said, his voice booming through the room. Everyone quieted at once, the groups turning to face him. “Dinner is ready. Given the nature of this house party, we decided it would be much simpler to keep a casual table. Please sit where you’d like. As we will not have even numbers, there is no particular seating arrangement at these dinners.”

There was a general murmur of agreement as the chatter immediately grew, people finding their tablemates and starting toward the open doors.

Ruth avoided Samuel’s eyes and looked to the Temple sisters. They were eagerly watching both Harewood men, and it was abundantly clear Ruth would be the one who needed to find a different dinner partner. Samuel and Oliver were much too polite to leave such eager women standing alone in favor of someone they regarded as a friend. Of the three, Ruth would understand.

She supposed this was the component of feeling like a sister that wasn’t a benefit. If she could remove herself from the situation quickly, she would avoid all awkwardness. She scanned the immediate vicinity for anyone who appeared to need a dinner partner.

A gentleman rising from where he had been sitting on the sofa caught her eye. She had not noticed him before. He held her gaze for a moment. He was handsome, his dark hair styled forward. He didn’t look familiar in the least.

Ruth clutched Samuel’s wrist. “Who is that?”

He followed her gaze, and she felt him stiffen beneath her touch.

“Mr. Bailey,” Jane said. “He is a devout recluse. It’s a miracle my father enticed him to come to this party at all.”

Ruth approved. “How very?—”

“Antisocial?” Samuel asked.

“I was going to say mysterious.”

“Miss Temple,” Oliver said, “would you care to accompany me in to dinner?”

“I would love to.” Catherine dipped a curtsy, her cheeks growing pinker and somehow even lovelier. She took his arm, which did a weird twisting thing to Ruth’s stomach.

Well, that was strange.

Samuel looked between Ruth and Jane, a torn expression in his eyes. It was just as she had expected, and she needed to slip away somehow.

“Mr. Bailey is coming this way,” Jane said. “Goodness, he is frightening.”

“Frightening is not the word I would use,” Ruth murmured, making Oliver stop and look back at her.

“What word would you use?” Samuel asked.

Handsome, though she would not say it aloud. Mysterious. Dark. She settled on saying, “Interesting.”

“Miss Jane,” Mr. Bailey said, his voice thick and deep with a husky quality she hadn’t expected. It made him seem broody as well. “Would you introduce me to your friends?”

Jane performed the introductions before Oliver led Catherine away, shooting one last glance over his shoulder at Ruth. What was he afraid of? They were all walking into the same room to enjoy their dinner, and no one had asked Ruth to partner them yet, anyway.

Mr. Bailey bowed. “Miss Wycliffe, I don’t believe we have met before. You must not be from near Rocklin?”

“Harewood,” she told him. “Though I have ventured to London a few times, which is where I’ve met the Temple sisters.”

“Ah, of course. I would like to hear more about Harewood,” he said, though she wondered if that was at all true.

“I can tell you anything you need to know,” Samuel quipped. “Lived there my entire life.”

Mr. Bailey chuckled. “Yes, but you aren’t nearly as pretty as Miss Wycliffe.” He turned the full weight of his attention on her again. His dark eyes glittered with interest. He was exceedingly handsome, and there was a rakish gleam to his expression that made her want to lean forward, just a little. “May I escort you in to dinner?”

“Yes, I thank you.”

“Not a Harewood man. Fortunate for you,” Samuel muttered, leaning close so only she could hear. “And for your dratted rules.”

She gave a look she hoped would silence him.

Oliver glanced over his shoulder near the doorway, his dark green eyes briefly locking onto Mr. Bailey before settling on her. His face creased into something akin to concern.

When Ruth placed her hand on Mr. Bailey’s arm, it felt like maybe this house party wouldn’t be so terrible after all.