Page 70 of The Rules of Courtship
Her breath caught. While his words excited her, they felt fevered, emboldened by the trauma he had been facing at home. He was certainly not himself. As much as it pained her to say so, she felt it important he knew he was released from obligation. “If this is too much for you, we can end things now, Oliver. You need only say so.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “That is not what I want.”
Her heart raced. Could that mean he wantedmore? That he wanted her?
“It is not what’s best for you,” he continued. “I will come to Willowbrook in the morning and speak to your father. If you are still amenable to the idea, we can ride afterward.”
She gave a nod, tamping down her disappointment. She hoped her body had not sagged as deeply as her spirits. “Still amenable? Surely you know me well enough to know I will never refuse a ride.”
His expression was tight, his eyes bleak. “You might this time.”
Ruth stared at him, trying to interpret his meaning, when Lady Helena approached to inform her that the carriage was waiting. They left his side, but his haunted expression did not vacate Ruth’s mind for the rest of the night.
Ruth pacedin her father’s study the following morning, the act made more difficult by the extra length of her riding habit. She reached the window, yanked her skirt behind her, then turned and paced back, letting the hem drag on the carpet.
Papa ran a hand over his face, exasperated. “You cannot remain here when he arrives, Ruth. It isn’t done.”
“I have a terrible feeling about this,” she said, not sparing her father a glance as she watched out the window, then paced to the other one. She did not have a view of the front door from here, but she could see the field that led in the direction of Boone Park, so she kept watch for Oliver’s horse carryinghim toward her.
“It isn’t done,” Papa repeated.
Oliver appeared on the horizon, making her heart gallop in time with his horse’s hooves. “When have I given the least care for that?” she asked quietly. She could hardly breathe. Seeing him coming toward her and knowing he was not well, that things were in disorder in his life, only made her further her resolve to do what she could for him.
Because she loved Oliver. Shelovedhim.
“I will give you time to speak when we are finished,” Papa said, pulling her from her thoughts.
“Very well,” she agreed, understanding this was a battle she would not win. Watching the door with trembling hands, she had no patience any longer. She needed to see him again. Their interaction at dinner the night before had left her confused and a little shaken. She was not going to feel whole again until they had spoken and things were more settled between them.
“Is this not breaking your rules, Ruth?” Papa said, amusement melting with his exasperation.
She let out a sigh of long suffering. “My rules were not always in my best interest, I think.”
“Which means you can do away with them when it suits you.”
She shot him a quelling look, but he only shook his head with a smile. It was true that her rules had ceased to matter once she had agreed to become Oliver’s wife, but that had been a result of her maturity, had it not? Love had certainly not cared a whit for her rules, and she liked to think the measure of love was greater than anything else.
When Oliver appeared, his eyes raked over her face before leaping to her father’s. She stepped up to him, inhaling his cedar and citrus scent, and pressed her hand to his forearm. She wanted to admit how she felt, to tell him she did not want their engagement to end in anything but a wedding.
Instead, she held his green eyes and swallowed down the pleas pushing at her chest. “I will wait in the corridor.”
He nodded once, turning to greet Papa. Ruth closed the door behind herself and started pacing again.
When Oliver opened the door,Ruth stopped walking. She did not have a clock in the corridor to know how much time had passed, but she was certain it had been close to an hour, maybe two. “That was long,” she said, to break the silence.
“Hardly above a quarter of an hour, Ruth.” Amusement tilted his lips up on one side, though they quickly fell again.
“It felt much longer,” she muttered. She glanced behind him, but Papa did not follow him out.
“Your father needs to speak with you.”
Ruth narrowed her eyes. “Are you going to wait?”
Oliver swallowed. “Only if you wish it.”
“I do.”
“Very well,” he said with a nod.
