A Lady's Guide to Courtship

V. Turkey Night

Dearest William,

Would you care to tell me what your favourite colour is?

Your friend,

Lady Weis

*****

The dark-haired lady was dressed in a simple blue dress. That and her haughty look told Ysabella that she was not a guest here.

If this was the woman Lady Gedge was talking about earlier, there was no hint of a Theobald blood in her. She did not look like Lord Theobald at all. Her hair was dark and wavy around her beautiful face, not blonde like all of the Theobalds.

But as Ysabella moved closer to the woman, she saw her pale grey eyes and she knew. It was as though she was looking into Samuel's eyes—very angry eyes for that matter.

"Remove yourselves from this part of the manor," the woman said in a low voice filled with warning.

"Please forgive us," Wakefield said behind Ysabella. "We were lost. We shall go," he lied.

"Is it true?" The words rolled out of Ysabella's lips before she could stop them.

"What?" the woman snapped, looking over her shoulder down the empty corridor behind her. "That I am the bastard child of Lord Theobald?" she asked when Ysabella remained stupefied.

Ysabella gulped. "Yes." There was no use lying, really. The lady knew that she was no longer a secret to some. Looking into her eyes told Ysabella that the woman was wiser than most people in the ballroom below.

"We must go," Wakefield nearly growled beside her.

She ignored him and continued to stare at the woman. "I will not tell anyone if you are worried about that," she promised.

The lady's lips twitched. She let out a snort. "If you say so."

"What is your name?"

Bushy eyebrows frowned at her, grey eyes narrowed.

"We must go, Lady Ysabella," Wakefield's voice said. He sounded more authoritative now.

"Ysabella Everard," the lady said with familiarity, voice lighter now.

Ysabella smiled. "You have heard of me. Marvellous!"

"Not everything I heard about you was marvellous," the woman countered. "My brother told me about you."

Samuel, that bloody bastard.

Ysabella shrugged. "Well, we cannot please everyone." She motioned her head to Wakefield. "Ask him about me and you shall hear naught but words of frustrations."

The mysterious girl's grey eyes slanted toward Wakefield and stayed there for quite some time before she turned to Ysabella and said, "Maxine. My name's Maxine."

"I am very glad to meet you, Maxine, I wish to—"

"Now, go," Maxine ordered, reaching for the door beside her.

"Can I ask a question?"

"She wants us to go, Ysabella," Wakefield sternly said.

Maxine paused but did not say a word, waiting for the question.

"Why have they kept you a secret all these years?"

She prepared herself for a lashing. She must not have asked such a stupid question. But the lashing did not come as the woman simply frowned at her. Wakefield took a hold of her elbow, pulling her away. He was about ready to drag her from this place.