Page 39 of The Rules of Courtship
A noise thudded in the corridor outside of his room, and Samuel paused, unbuttoning his waistcoat as he listened. It sounded as though Oliver had left his room, but surely it was someone else. Oliver wouldn’t leave Lord Rocklin’s house party without telling Samuel.
He finished undressing, preparing for bed, and all the while, his resolve hardened. He was going to convince Oliver to remain for the rest of the house party and do his best to keep the man distracted. Then, when he was home again, he would leave a new letter at the kissing gate—as had become their custom—and wait in the distance all day and all night until he discovered who his mysterious writer was.
One way or another, he would learn her identity. She was the woman he wanted to marry, after all.
Chapter Fourteen
Rule #14: Never allow yourself to be alone with a man in the middle of the night, even if he is a trustworthy friend
Ruth brushed her long, unbound hair while Sarah hung her dress in the wardrobe, smoothing out the skirt to ensure it did not wrinkle. Ruth frowned into the mirror, putting the brush down while her eyes went blurry. She was embarrassed and tired. Part of her wanted to return home. If Oliver was going to be distant and strange, she needn’t push her friendship on him.
Was she being childish? Perhaps. It had been his idea to create rules and help one another find a good person to court. All of that had seemed to disappear with his sullen attitude, and now Ruth couldn’t think of anything but Oliver. He was consuming her thoughts.
“Shall I plait your hair?” Sarah asked, putting Ruth’s stockings in a basket to launder.
“You can leave,” Ruth said kindly, smiling at her maid. “I willplait it tonight.” She continued brushing it, frowning at herself in the mirror.
“If you insist.”
“Sarah,” Ruth said, pivoting on the seat to face her maid. She dropped her hands in her lap, the bristles from the hairbrush scratching against her wrist. “Have you heard anything about Emily Edmonds or Mr. Bailey?”
Sarah straightened, sliding the basket’s handle over her arm. “Below stairs, you mean?”
“Yes, amongst the servants. Mr. Bailey has seemed interested in furthering his acquaintance with me, but I had the…impression…he might already have a previous understanding with Miss Edmonds.”
“I’ve heard nothing yet, but I can ask around if you’d like.”
“We wouldn’t wish to gossip.”
“No, of course not,” Sarah said, dipping her head of blonde curls in acquiescence.
“But, if you hear of anything,” Ruth said carefully, “it would not be gossip to merely listen.”
Sarah fought a smile. “Precisely, miss.” She tilted her head. “Do you like the man?”
“I suppose so, but I wouldn’t like to accept his advances if he has already led another woman to believe he has feelings for her.”
“No, I can see how you would not. I will keep my ear out for information.”
“Thank you, Sarah.”
Her maid bobbed a curtsy and slipped from the room.
Ruth faced the mirror again, brushing her long, brown hair until it felt smooth. She divided it into three segments and began the thick plait. She was tying off the end with a ribbon when the door opened and Sarah reappeared.
“Did you forget something?” Ruth asked, focused on the ribbon.
“No, but, um…” Sarah cleared her throat loudly.
Ruth looked up to find Oliver standing in the corridor, leaning against the wall and looking directly at her.
Good grief, the man’s frown was far more attractive than hers. His face was shadowed in the corridor, lending him a broody air. His eyes pierced through the room and hit her in the chest as he straightened, pushing away from the wall to stand tall.
“Mr. Rose wanted a word with you, Miss,” Sarah said quietly. “I didn’t…that is…what…”
This situation was unprecedented, Ruth would give her that. What the devil was she supposed to say? She would meet him in the corridor? He could come inside her chamber? They would be seen if he hung around much longer.
Ruth rose to her feet, pulling her dressing gown closed. Her braid slid to her back and dropped between her shoulder blades.
