Page 47 of The Rules of Courtship
She glanced down. Which one had she moved?
“The black bishop,” he told her, as though he understood the cause for her confusion.
“Ah, I see. My apologies.” She reached to move it back—where had it been before?—when Mr. Bailey’s hand rested over hers, causing her to grow still. Ruth stared at his large hand, covering her fingers entirely. She didn’t know how she felt about his powerful hand dwarfing hers. She was meant to feel excitement, was she not? Those sudsy bubbles filling her stomach earlier were missing now. Was it the horror of the accident clouding her emotions?
No. It was Emily. Upstairs, distraught, not here to see the man she loved making a declaration to another. In fact, who in the room was witness to his intentional placement? Ruth glanced toward the fireplace again and found Lady Helena watching, eyebrows slightly lifted. Oliver stood behind the sofa, speaking to Catherine, though his attention was on Ruth, his gaze smoldering with a heat that zapped up her arm with great shock.
Ruth smiled at Mr. Bailey, pulling her hand free and settling it on her lap. “Would you prefer to move it back?”
“We do not need to finish this game,” he said, smoothly recovering from her rejection. “It is perhaps not the best night for it.”
“Forgive me, Mr. Bailey. I am not good company this evening.”
“On the contrary. I have been delighted by this time spent with you.”
She smiled kindly, temptation nipping at her to ask him about the nature of his relationship with Emily. But if she’d learned anything tonight, it was that if Mr. Bailey was Emily’s secret beau, he certainly did not have the same degree of commitment to the arrangement she did.
Ruth stood. “I will go sit with my mother, then.”
“I hope to have a dance with you before we are all shuffled off to our homes, Miss Wycliffe.”
She recognized the question in his words, but her stomach was in knots. She gave him a tremulous smile and left before she could commit to anything. A proper response would have been to tell him she would have loved to dance with him, but that would have been a lie. Mr. Bailey was not at all the man she would love to dance with.
No. Oliver was.
The truth bled through her in a fissure of warmth, settling firmly in her chest. Admitting so, even to only herself, had a soothing effect on the state of her nerves, but it clouded her thoughts just as swiftly. Understanding and accepting how she felt was one thing, but did it matter when Oliver proved to regard her as a friend and sister?
“I am doing my very best not to be overly curious,” Lady Helena said quietly, leaning close to Ruth when she sat on the sofa. “But I do imagine your immediate retreat means I should not begin formulating an invitation to Harewood for a particular gentleman.”
“I would not waste time on the matter, if I were you,” Ruth said, feeling within her stomach how deeply she meant those words. Had the giddiness within her earlier been false? Anxiousness instead of hope? Or perhaps the duration of the evening had removed the drapes and allowed light to shine on her true feelings for the man.
“Pity,” Lady Helena said. She narrowed her eyes shrewdly. “Or is it?”
“A pity?” Ruth asked. “I think not. Though Papa might disagree.”
Lady Helena shifted closer. “Your papa would have enjoyed the young man’s company, but he cares far more for your happiness. You know that, darling.”
Did she? Lately, Ruth had questioned that very thing. Papa had seemed intent on urging her toward one man or another. If she returned home without a suitor, would she be inundated with visits from Dr. Burnside?
Seated so near the fireplace, the air felt hot, suffocating her with warmth and making it difficult to breathe. Or was it the idea of returning home and facing failure again that pressed in from all sides? It was not as though Ruth intended to be troublesome. She did not want to remain at Willowbrook forever, but she wantedlove. She wanted to be cared for and adored as her mother had been—though she’d not known her—and as Lady Helena now was, and her sister-in-law, Aurelia, and her dearest friend, Eliza. She wanted to dote on someone with affection the way she watched members of her family do, to love and be loved. It was the way to receive the happy life she believed she could have, but the man who came to her mind when she considered these things, the one who filled in the husband in all her daydreams, wasOliver.
Ruth could no longer deny her feelings for him, but that he did not care for her in the same way was abundantly clear.
“Ruth, what is it?” Lady Helena asked, reaching to take her hand. “You look unhappy.”
Her face revealed her emotions, then. She needed to be free of this room, but to be confined in her bedchamber was an abhorrent thought. Could she slip outside unnoticed? Take air in the garden and allow herself time to think?
“I am too warm,” she finally said, rising. Why did they have such a large fire in summer? There were other ways to expand the light in the room. It was cool outside, but not frigid.
“Do you need me to accompany you to your chamber?”
“No.” Ruth smiled to soften her words. “I need to think.”
“Of course, darling. You know how to find me if you need me.” Lady Helena looked worried. Her mouth pressed into a smile, but her eyes betrayed her.
Ruth glanced about the drawing room as she walked from it, but both Oliver and Samuel were missing. If they were packing their trunks to prepare to leave, she would soon do the same. Remaining here for another week, fending off Mr. Bailey and worrying over the state of Mr. Edmonds without the support of her friends, felt like more than she could bear.
Once she was in the corridor outside the drawing room, Ruth slipped down toward the doorway, keeping her eye out for servants. Most of them had likely been called in to assist with Mr. Edmonds, as the house felt empty. She made it to the door and let herself outside, slipping down the steps and rounding the house toward the garden. The night was fresh and crisp, the rain having left a layer of clean air behind that cooled her hot cheeks. Avoiding the obvious puddles, Ruth opened the gate into the garden and walked swiftly to reach the hedges before anyone in the drawing room thought to take air on the balcony and witnessed her.
