A Lady's Guide to Courtship

XX. Drops

Wakefield was tired, having made no stops to get here, but Thomas and Ysabella invited him to join them for tea. He could have refused, yes, but to do so would mean leaving Ysabella in his brother's presence. Their mother would be there, but the woman looked as though she was about ready to retire for the night.

He would not wish to go home to Wickhurst with Ysabella wrapped in scandal. Levi Everard would have his throat if that was to ever happen, he thought with wry.

And so he had to suffer yet another hour of Ysabella and Thomas talking in whispers while he listened to his mother's talk about her fun journey with Ysabella to Bertram. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Ysabella laughed at whatever his brother whispered in her ear.

Was she deliberately making him jealous?

Are you jealous? A part of his mind asked. For a second he thought he heard Morris' voice ask that bloody question.

Finally, having had too much of tea and useless thoughts about two particular people in the room who were rude enough to exclude him and his mother from their conversation, Wakefield jumped to his feet and said, "I fear I must retire. I've had quite a long journey." He bent to plant a kiss on his mother's head. He straightened and turned to Thomas and Ysabella who paused to see him go.

Ha! Her attempts to making him jealous were being thrown out the window.

"I hope to have a private talk with you soon, Thomas," he said to his brother before he gave Ysabella a bow, saying, "Go to bed early, little one," and walked away.

"The servants prepared your old room!" Thomas called after him. He gave a short wave of his hand and walked out of the room.

He needed sleep. That was all he needed, really, he tried to tell himself.

*****

Ysabella accepted Thomas' invite the previous night to roam around the crop plantation the very next day. He had been very nice to her, far from the person she had first thought him to be based on Wakefield's letters to Lady Weis.

Although there was something in the man that she could not seem to figure out just yet, something that bordered to dark and mysterious, she found him quite easy to talk with. And although the way he'd look at her reminded her to be wary and careful, there were also moments when he could make her forget it all.

If she could look past the streak of arrogance in his speech, of his choice of words and somehow abhorrent attitude toward certain topics, Ysabella could see Wakefield in him as well. The Wakefield in the letters, not the one with the rakish reputation.

She had been noticing it now as they walked along the vast plantation of corn.

"You have quite a magnificent hole in Bertram, my lord," she said, looking up at the clear sky above them.

"Thomas," he corrected, offering his arm to her. He squinted at the sun as she looped her hand at the crook of his arm. "Yes, we are quite lucky to have one of the largest holes in Town. Although I heard Westershire has a bigger one."

"You mean Adrien Haverston's estate? Yes, I believe it is quite amazing as well."

"Ah, yes, I almost missed the fact that your family is friends with the Haverstons."

"Yes, they are dear friends." She looked up to let the heat of the sun touch her face. "I am yet to see Westershire, but I must admit I like Standbury the best."

He raised his brows. "Your brother's?"

She nodded. "Levi, yes. There is a small wooden area along the stream."