Page 78 of The Rules of Courtship
“We have a letter of certificate from the rector,” Esther said, her shoulders back proudly. She held her daughter’s hand, however, and Oliver was struck by how difficult this must have felt for her. “But it was in William’s possessions, tucked within the folds of a blue journal. I have not seen it. If we can locate the book, then you will have your proof.”
The blue book. Captain Rose had told Oliver to find it, had he not?
“Stuff and nonsense!” Uncle Harding shouted. “There is no journal.”
Oliver inhaled. “There is,” he said, drawing every pair of eyes in the room to him. “He told me of it—asked me to look for it. But it was not among his things. The only place I could not look was the locked compartment in his trunk. There was no key.”
Esther sighed in relief, her shoulders falling. “I have the key.”
Oliver recommendedthe group move to the parlor where tea and a late breakfast were laid out while the matter was sorted. He removed to Captain Rose’s chamber with Mr. Dale, Esther, and his two uncles. The stale air was made marginally better by opening the drapes, bathing the room in light. Together they watched as Esther unlocked the compartment in the lid of the trunk and produced the book, finding the signed statement from the rector folded within the pages and yellowed with age.
She passed it triumphantly to the solicitor. Oliver had believed her claims—indeed, she had not had the aura of deceit about her. All the same, he was glad the proof had been found to put his uncle’s tactics to rest.
“If you require further proof, you can read the order of events as they happened in William’s own hand.” She held the journal toward Mr. Dale.
He shook his head, reading the statement. “This will suffice. Thank you, Mrs. Rose.”
She nodded, looking uncomfortable as she glanced around the chamber. It was not much changed since the room of Captain Rose’s youth, since Grandmother had insisted on it remaining ready in case Captain Rose dropped in unexpectedly. The men filed from the room, so Oliver approached her, touching her arm. “You can remain as long as you would like. I will see to it Miss Rose and Miss Penny are made aware if you’d like for them to join you in here.”
She gave him a grateful, watery smile. “Not just yet. I will bring them up later, if that suits.”
“Of course.”
“Thank you, Oliver.”
He dipped his head in recognition and left her standing in the center of the room, clutching the journal in both hands.
When Oliver madeit to the first floor landing, he could hear his Aunt and Uncle Harding arguing near the front door. He looked around the supporting pillar, debating whether he should continue on or retreat.
“Iwillhave tea,” Uncle Harding spat, his cheeks mottled from anger.
Aunt Harding, a tall and formidable woman, glared at her husband. “I am as disappointed as you, but nothing further can be done. You have embarrassed me enough for one day. Come home with me now, or you will be sleeping with the pigs tonight.”
Oliver stepped back into the corridor to avoid being seen, waiting until their footsteps had retreated and the front door had closed with a thud. Goodness, but he was glad his aunt had finally stepped in.
When he made his way toward the parlor, he found Eliza and Jacob standing outside the door, deep in quiet conversation. Eliza’s hand rested on her rounded belly, and her husband spoke to her in concern.
“Oliver,” she said, noticing him. “I hoped we could have a moment of your time. But if today is not—” She grimaced, sucking in a breath and pressing her other hand into her husband’s arm.
Alarm swept through Oliver. He recalled her telling him she expected the baby to come in August. It was far too early for her to labor now. “What is it? Is the baby well?”
Jacob slipped an arm around her. “We need to go home. I think your time has?—”
“No,” she said through her teeth, her eyes closed. “I cannot move just yet.”
“How long has this been going on?” Oliver asked, disturbed he had not noticed before now.
“She was very quiet during the meeting,” Jacob snapped. “I will carry you, darling.”
“Please do not make me ride in that carriage again so soon,” Eliza asked, her voice quiet.
Oliver realized two things in quick succession: his cousin was having her baby, and she was going to do so at Boone Park. He straightened, glad to have an objective that had nothing to do with false fathers or inheritances. “I will see about a room and Harrison will send someone for the doctor. Would you like tea, Eliza?”
Jacob looked at him gratefully.
“I cannot have this child here,” she said through her teeth. “I am not ready. I have weeks to go.”
“You do not have the luxury of choosing when your child comes, love,” Jacob said. “And youinsistedon being here this morning.”
