Page 7 of The Rules of Courtship (Hearts of Harewood #3)

Chapter Seven

SAMUEL

Rule #7: When good luck approaches, welcome it without question

Samuel smoothed the letter on the small table in his bedchamber, his fingers lightly brushing over the timeworn creases. He hadn’t wanted to come to this house party, because that would be two missed letters at the very least. The messages he had been exchanging with the unknown woman had grown to become the highlight of his weeks.

Yet Ruth Wycliffe herself had wanted him here.

He still was unsure how he felt about it. He had pined after her for so many years with nothing but rejection. It felt strange to think she might very well accept a dance or walk in the garden. The woman had the most beautiful smile when she found something humorous. With Ruth, that was more often than not.

Yes, Samuel recognized that a lighter hand might have won her affection much sooner than his overbearing attraction, but he could not change who he was. Samuel’s spirit was vibrant. His shimmery, yellow brocade waistcoat could not hold a candle to the bright thoughts bouncing around in his mind.

Looking at the loopy, feminine writing on his letter, he could not help but wonder—was Ruth his mysterious writer? Perhaps she had learned his identity and wanted to use this time to give him a proper chance.

It made far more sense than the ludicrous idea that she had merely had a change of heart concerning him. Samuel was no fool.

He folded up the letter and tucked it safely away in his interior pocket. He had taken to carrying the most recent of letters with him like a secret hidden away near his heart. But this one held more purpose. If he could obtain a writing sample from Ruth, he could compare the handwriting and determine if she was his mysterious friend.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Enter,” Samuel said, patting his waistcoat and straightening his cuffs in the long mirror.

Oliver stepped inside. His wardrobe did not hold a single garment that was not blue, black, gray, or brown. The man could use a little color. Some well-placed lavender or violet, for example, would make his green eyes look brighter. Samuel had once tried to tell him that, but Oliver didn’t care in the least.

“Is the sermon prepared?” Samuel asked, primping his glossy violet cravat. He tilted his head to the side. Could he persuade Oliver to trade cravats with him? The man wouldn’t regret how dashing it made him look.

“What the devil are you talking about now?”

Perhaps not.

“The sermon.” Samuel turned, gesturing to his cousin’s stark black coat. “You look prepared to stand at the pulpit and preach.”

Oliver rolled his eyes .

“You can borrow a waistcoat if you’d like to look healthier,” Samuel continued. “Make your eyes bright. Put some color in your cheeks.”

Oliver’s voice was flat. “My eyes are perfectly fine.”

“You were in those painting lessons with me, Cousin. You know perfectly well how to make swampy green look like luscious grass.”

“Luscious—gads, Sam. I want to speak with you. Can you be serious for the next three minutes?”

“If I must. Is your pocket watch ready?”

“ Sam .”

“Yes, of course.” He turned, giving Oliver his full attention. A crease of concern on Oliver’s brow gave him pause. Ill news was clearly forthcoming.

Well, there was no reason Samuel needed to remain in Rocklin for the following fortnight. He could leave if the situation warranted it. Had Ruth had a change of heart? Were the honorable Temple twins actually only interested in titled gentlemen? The cook insisted on serving the same game hens every night for two weeks?

“Out with it,” Samuel said, unable to fight his growing nerves.

“Ask Ruth to partner you in our next activity.”

Ruth. Hope soared to the ceiling. Her interest was growing—albeit slightly—which had to mean something, surely. The chance that she could be his letter writer swam in his chest, filling him with warm, bubbly hope. “Ruth?” he asked, like he hadn’t heard clearly.

“I cannot explain, so please do not ask me to, but there is a high possibility she won’t turn you away. In fact, I can almost guarantee it.”

Something about this situation felt…not quite right. “Did you orchestrate this?”

Oliver rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I would be lying if I told you I had nothing to do with it. Please do not ask me to explain, though. Trust me.”

Of course he would. Samuel trusted Oliver with his life. They were more than cousins—they were the dearest of friends. They looked out for one another. Samuel was the only thing that had kept his parents from hiring a solicitor to fight Grandmother’s will. None of them had liked hearing that she had given everything to Oliver—not when she had three children living and other grandchildren as well. But that had been her choice. Besides, Oliver was not the sort of man to convince an old woman to cut off her family and leave everything to him.

No, if anything, Oliver was likely the most put out by that turn of events. Samuel had reminded his parents of Oliver’s unwavering family support, of how he had sacrificed to care for Grandmother for years, of how he would do anything for them if they needed him.

Of course, that had not been enough. His parents could be selfish, and they’d expected a good deal of money. Samuel threatened to go to London and never speak to them again if they hired a solicitor to look into the will, but no one needed to know that. His efforts had been successful, though.

“I trust you,” Samuel finally said.

“Good. I am doing my best to help you have a chance with her. Do not ruin it.” Oliver reached to ruffle Samuel’s hair, but he dodged just in time.

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t touch my hair.”

“Don’t be daft.” Oliver walked toward the door. “They are gathering for an archery competition. I assume we will be choosing partners.” He lifted his eyebrows suggestively.

When they made it outside, Samuel searched the wide, green lawn for Ruth’s bright smile. He found her speaking to the Temple twins, her brown hair shining in the sunlight. She wore a pale green gown with little capped sleeves and a chip bonnet with matching silk flowers .

She was definitely a woman who knew how to choose her colors to advantage. The green set off the faint blush of her cheeks and made her blue eyes sparkle.

“Good day,” Oliver said, approaching the group.

Samuel stepped behind him, bowing to each of the ladies. Miss Jane’s lace-gloved hands twirled her parasol, blocking the sun. She eyed him a beat longer than usual, sending a smile that he imagined meant something significant to her. Since he didn’t know her well, he hadn’t the faintest idea what she had meant by it.

“Shall we begin?” Miss Temple asked. Her blonde curls were gathered beneath her bonnet, but a few had been left out to frame her temples. “Mr. Bailey will be joining us, but I do not believe anyone else stated an interest.”

Samuel glanced back for Mrs. Watson, whom he heard was meant to be a chaperone to the young ladies who had not brought mothers, but she was not here. He supposed a somewhat distracted chaperone was exactly what the Temple sisters had in mind.

Movement on the grass caught his eye, and he noticed a young couple approaching from the house. Miss and Mr. Edmonds, a brother and sister he had met at breakfast that morning, with matching raven hair and the same pointed chin. Their father was a childhood friend of Lord Rocklin, though he had since passed on.

“Emily!” Miss Jane said, moving to Miss Edmonds’ side. “I’m pleased you decided to join us. I do hope you’ll agree to be my partner.”

“There are a perfect number of couples, sister,” Miss Temple said, a touch too brightly. “Perhaps we ought to make it more interesting.”

“Every man can ask a lady,” Mr. Bailey said, stepping up behind Samuel. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He hadn’t had a good feeling about the man since they met last night, but he couldn’t identify why.

It could’ve merely been due to a dislike of seeing Ruth on Mr. Bailey’s arm, of course. Samuel was not so ridiculous as to feign an absence of jealousy.

He caught Oliver’s eye, glad to see the same distrust flash there. At least he was not alone in his feelings.

“I approve of that plan,” Miss Jane said, grinning. She turned her smile on Samuel, so he looked away before he could be forced into asking her to partner him.

“Ruth?” Samuel asked, before any of the other gentlemen could step in and usurp him. “Would you care to win at my side?” He flashed her an overly bright smile and held his breath.

Her eyes flicked to Oliver, so swiftly Samuel would have missed it if he hadn’t been watching. “Yes, Mr. Harding. I would love to.”

Mr. Harding. He ought to remember to use her formal name in company as well. It was plainly known to the entire party that he, Oliver, and Ruth had grown up together, but of course, he would not wish to give anyone the wrong impression—not when she clearly wanted to keep them separated.

“Lovely, Miss Wycliffe,” he said, hoping she understood the message he was attempting to portray.

Everyone divided into pairs, Oliver asking Miss Temple, Mr. Bailey with Miss Edmonds, and Mr. Edmonds with Miss Jane. They took turns at the targets, warming their muscles and practicing. Miss Jane was a terrible shot, her arrow coming far too close to piercing her sister at one point.

Ruth sipped her lemonade and leaned closer, her shoulder brushing Samuel’s arm. “Remind me to stay far behind Miss Jane when it is her turn.”

“We can lose your bonnet to the wind and spend some time chasing it safely out of reach,” he suggested .

“I approve of that plan.” She laughed. “I will subtly untie it, and you knock it free.”

“Then kick it a few times until we are safely behind that hedge there.”

Ruth laughed again. Samuel glowed. He hadn’t heard that sound directed at him in years—not since before he started making his interest known. It was thrilling, and he wanted to hear it again. Coupled with her sparkling, amused eyes, he was taken back to their earlier youth when they were true friends, playing games with her brother Ryland, Oliver, and Eliza. Now Ryland and Eliza were each married, and no one was interested in climbing trees or searching for hidden treasure.

“No scheming,” Oliver said, making both of them jump. His eyes lingered on Samuel for a beat too long. Was the man jealous?

No. Of course not. He had felt nothing but friendship for Ruth. The protective drive of an older brother.

“We fear for our safety, Oliver,” she said. “You are welcome to join us.”

He shook his head. “I prefer to face danger head-on.”

“Grandmother always said otherwise,” Samuel said. It was utter rubbish, but he was only teasing.

“Unfair. You cannot use Grandmother’s words against me now. She’s not here to come to my defense.”

“Miss Wycliffe,” Miss Temple called, “it is your turn.”

“Dare we?” Ruth asked, her blue eyes on Samuel.

A thrill of acceptance and possibility ran through him. “Come now. We are the brave ones. There is no question about it.”

She laughed, shooting Oliver a grin before taking Samuel’s arm.

He wasn’t certain what had changed, but whatever it was, Samuel wasn’t going to look his gift horse in the teeth. Instead, he would discover if she was the woman he had been writing secret letters to for the better part of a year. Now, he just needed to find a way to put a quill pen in her hand…