Page 76 of The Rules of Courtship
“I am no stranger to the Rose family eccentricities,” she said, possibly thinking of his parents and their absurdities. Or perhaps she was thinking of him, which was a lowering thought.
“Indeed.”
Ruth was turning to leave when she hesitated and faced him again. “Are we…that is…are you and I…”
“We are well,” he said, putting her out of her misery. “Do not fear that I am irrevocably heartbroken at seeing you and Oliver together. I’ve had time to grow accustomed to the idea of your union these last few weeks.”
Relief fell over her face. “You are not angry with us?”
His chest tore in two. “How could I be?” he countered, his heart pounding. He had his mysterious letter-writer, after all. Though he could not very well tell Ruth so. He wanted that to remain his own secret, to protect it for now. He fancied himselfin love with the author of those letters, but for all he knew, she was nearing fifty years old and had already finished raising children his age. He had no notion of who the woman was, and now the person he had spent the last few years imagining as his wife was going to marry his closest friend and cousin.
It was not an easy situation to navigate, but his pain would help no one, least of all himself. Managing a smile, he started to walk Ruth to the door.
She turned abruptly, resting her hand on his arm. “We will remain friends, I hope.”
“Of course, Ruth.”
“Good.” She let out a sigh of relief, her eyes darting back toward the drawing room. “I worry for him.”
“As do I, but Oliver will pull through. He is the most level-headed of our lot.”
“I agree.” Ruth chewed at her lip and glanced over her shoulder. “But you will look out for him, anyway?”
His smile softened. After years of enduring her rebuffs and censure, after every conversation between them had bent around humor, the authentic love in her eyes was enough for his resolve to strengthen. She loved Oliver, and Samuel could not stand in the way of anything for his most deserving cousin. His pain felt mended, if only a little. But it shone like a small beacon of hope that he would not feel this way forever.
“I will look out for him,” Samuel promised.
Ruth flashed him a grateful smile and hurried down the steps, holding the train of her riding habit in her hand, to meet her father on the drive before he could dismount.
Samuel turned back inside, letting the door close behind him, and hopefully leaving his feelings outside as well.
He was ready to move on.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rule #28: Never value money above family, love, or marriage
Oliver slept well for the first time in weeks. There was much about his life he had not been able to predict—the state of his inherited house and finances, what would happen with the reading of Captain Rose’s will, how he would face Jacob Ridley and inform the man he was his half-brother. But the trials that had seemed insurmountable just yesterday now felt manageable. Knowing Ruth loved him, that she wanted to stand beside him through all the madness embroiling him, had a massive impact on the state of his emotions.
He felt more whole, more capable.
But he still hoped Captain Rose had not left himentirelyout of the will, or how would he justify a marriage to Ruth? Wycliffe had made it clear he did not want his daughter marrying into financial ruin, which had the dual purpose of informing Oliver that Wycliffe would not save the estate with a marriage settlement above the dowry Ruth already had.
It was fair but presented a problem.
Oliver took tea in his room as he dressed for the day, then went directly to the study to await the solicitor. He settled in with the estate books, desperate to hit upon a scheme to save himself, when a knock came at the door and Harrison let himself in.
“Mr. Dale is here, sir,” the butler said.
“See him in, please.” Oliver closed his books and pushed them aside.
The door was opened wider and Mr. Dale, the solicitor hired by each member of the Rose family, entered. He wore a gray coat and thin wired spectacles on his large nose. His white hair was combed neatly, his hat removed, and he looked no different from the last time he entered this study to read Grandmother’s will ten months ago.
Oliver rose to greet him. “Good day, Mr. Dale. You may have the desk.”
“Thank you, Mr. Rose.” He pulled his case onto the table and opened it, retrieving a set of papers and sorting through them to ensure everything was in order.
“Shall I gather the family now?” Oliver asked.
