Page 32 of The Rules of Courtship
Actually, Mr. Edmonds was still a stranger. And Mr. Bailey could very well be in love with Emily.
Oh, dear. It was all too confusing.
There was nothing else for it—she needed to speak to Samuel.
He stood beside the chess table, moving the pieces absently, his eyes glazed as if he wasn’t seeing the queen he slid on the board, but was lost in thought instead.
“Samuel,” she said softly, hoping not to gather interest from anyone else in the room.
He looked up, dropping the queen with a quiet thunk. His face was a picture of concentration, but she watched as the concern bled out of it, quickly replaced by a mask of pleasant indifference. It was incredible how quickly he could change and how authentic he appeared now.
The man was far more complex than she’d realized.
“Ruth,” he said, and she was relieved to hear an absence of anger or hurt. “I imagine you did not come here to challenge me to a game of chess.”
“Are you terribly angry with me?”
“Of course not.”
“I’m a fool,” she said. “I shouldn’t have spoken to Oliver about my feelings. I see that now. I should have spoken directly to you.”
He shook his head, looking back at the chess pieces. He picked up the king and moved it next to its queen in the center of the board. “You have always been clear about how you feel.”
“Perhaps not clear enough, Samuel.” She thought of Eliza’spoint, that she had hidden behind rules instead of being forthright and honest. If Ruth had done that in the beginning, this situation could have been avoided. “I’d agreed to give every man here a real chance without immediately discounting anyone, and you were included in that. It was only fair.”
He looked interested. “This was Oliver’s idea?”
Ruth nodded. “He was trying to prove a point, though I’m unsure what it was.”
“Yes, that sounds like him.”
“Are we still friends?” Ruth asked anxiously.
Samuel’s face softened. “We will always be friends, Ruth. These last few days I’ve felt as though we were kids again. No one worrying about marriage, just enjoying ourselves. I’ve liked that.”
She took his forearm, drawing in a quick breath. “I have, too. It has been so refreshing.”
Laying a hand over hers where it rested on his arm, he gave her a soft smile. “Indeed.”
“I’ve missed being your friend, Sam.”
“As have I,” he agreed.
Ruth released an anxious breath. “I’m glad we have that sorted.” She looked at him, gauging his expression. “Would you care to explain Oliver’s strange mood?”
Samuel dropped his hand, leaning away just enough so Ruth’s hand fell from his arm. She wasn’t certain if he had done it on purpose, or if his body had reacted to the question on its own. “He has been…there’s been some news. I really cannot say more than that, Ruth. It isn’t my place to share.”
Curiosity plagued her, but more than that, she was overcome with a wash of concern. “Will he…does he need anything?”
“Oliver is in no great danger,” he said carefully.
He would not say more. That much was obvious.
If Oliver wasn’t in great danger, was someone else? Whywould he not confide in her? The doors opened behind them, and dinner was announced.
“He did not meet me to ride this morning,” she went on. “I have not seen him in almost two days. I am worried.”
Samuel’s expression shifted, as though he’d set shutters over his feelings. “Would you like to walk into the dining room with me?”
