Page 29 of The Rules of Courtship
Ruth laughed, the sound joyful and loud, nestling warmly in his chest. She nudged him lightly with her shoulder, as though acknowledging a hit. It sent a flurry of feelings through him.
“How was your morning?” he asked, eager for a change in conversation.
“I learned I am still terrible at embroidery. My bird in no way resembles a bird.”
“But you can sew a set of angel’s wings to the back of your gown with skill,” he reminded her, thinking of the play they’d written and performed as children. “Which skill do you think is more useful on a typical day?”
He glanced down to find her beaming up at him, her glorious smile bright and amused. It hit him in the stomach.
“Well, angel’s wings, obviously,” she said. Her hand seemed to tighten on his arm, and he resisted the urge to pull her a little closer.
Gads, what was wrong with him?
“Handkerchiefs do not change their function when they become more beautiful,” she went on, “but an angel cannot fly without her wings.”
“A valid argument,” he agreed.
“Stuff and nonsense.” She laughed again and pressed his arm. “You are humoring me. Tell me about fishing. Was it enjoyable?”
“It was peaceful,” he said.
“And the men? Any new information you wish to pass on?”
This was why he had wanted to walk with her—to discuss her marriage prospects. Yet considering which of the gentlemen she ought to focus on left him uneasy. He did not feel as though he should share his misgivings about Bailey until he had identified a reason for them. If he was merely jealous that Ruth entertained the notion of courting the man, that was not a valid cause to drive him away.
Ruth was waiting for an answer, though.
Oliver said the first thing that came to his mind. “They are competitive.”
“What man isn’t?” she asked.
“I’d like to think I am not.” He’d never actively cared whether he won or lost a race or a game of cards.
She peered up at him. “Perhaps. But under the right circumstances, I think you would be.”
Oliver felt as though he had lost a layer of protective armor. She could see straight through his chest into his wildly beating heart. “Did you discover anything I ought to know about the ladies?”
She was quiet long enough to pull his attention. When heglanced down, her expression was concerned. They reached the top of the hill, and the garden stretched out before them.
“Should we walk a little longer?” he asked. The alternative was going directly to the house, but he wasn’t ready to end their conversation. He gestured toward the garden, its tall outer wall of shrubbery casting a long shadow over the grass.
“Yes, let’s do that—or my mother will expect me to finish my bird.”
They meandered down the path, away from the high shrubbery, and entered the walled Italian garden. The flowers were bright, and the roses sent a faint, sweet scent into the air. They followed the walkway toward the shrubs, skirting the outer edge until they found the cool shade.
“What are you afraid to tell me?” he asked quietly, in case others were walking by on the other side of the tall hedge. Oliver didn’t wish to be overheard.
“I promised not to repeat it,” she said, cringing. “I suppose I can give you a warning without breaking her confidence, if I am careful.” Ruth pulled her hand from his arm, and he immediately felt the loss. Lowering her voice, she said, “Do not consider Miss Edmonds with any great seriousness.”
That should have surprised him, but somehow, it did not. Despite the way she had seemed interested in his estate last night, her attention came in fleeting bursts. Today she had seemed to wake up and forget about him entirely. Her changeability led him to believe she was not to be taken seriously. “Does she possess a trait?—”
“No, nothing of that sort. I actually quite like her.” Ruth glanced around them again, lowering her voice. “Suffice it to say, her heart might be otherwise engaged.”
“Ah. So the woman has her eye on someone else. Consider me warned.” He gave her a smile. “I do not wish to fall in love with someone who cannot return the sentiment.”
Ruth peered up at him, the shadow of her bonnet shifting,making her blue eyes clear and vibrant. “Love? Is that what you’re looking for, Oliver?”
Funds were foremost on his list of priorities, but he did hope to have a wife he could come to care for, at the very least. If he was going to spend the rest of his life with a woman, he ought to feel something for her, to be able to discuss their children pleasantly and pass dinners in amiable companionship. When Ruth blinked up at him, though, his stomach constricted. He wanted to discuss children and enjoy dinners withher, but he was a veritable fortune hunter, looking for a wife to save his house, and he could not ask that of her.
