A Lady's Guide to Courtship

XXVI. Ey, Guv!

Ysabella leaned her head out of the carriage to tell the driver where they should stop for a respite. She leaned back against her seat and smiled with contentment. She was at Blucksley.

Perfect place to find old friends.

*****

Wakefield was staring blindly at the ceiling, wide-eyed and without a foreseeable amount of sleep.

They would reach Wickhurst after this night.

He was fearful and at the same time anticipating the return.

Fearful that what he was planning to do would be different the moment they return. Everything was there—everything they had put on hold while at Bertram was waiting there and he found he did not wish to face any of it. Morris would present him the list of callers he would have to meet. Papers from Wakefield would be there as well and he'd have to make decisions for the next planting season. Aurora and her troubles were waiting for him.

He groaned at the thought of it all.

But all the same he was itching to go back. Start planning; start asking around how a man such as him—a rakehell—would court a lady who was adamant to marry him. Pathetic as it may sound, but it would be difficult to do when both of them were playing the same game.

He was in the middle of counting the number of flowers she had given him and how he could multiply those to a dozen more and many days it would take for him to carry them to her doors when a knock came to his door.

"Wakefield, are you awake?" Ysabella's voice asked outside the door.

He jumped out of bed and started to stride to the door when he paused to look across the room to see his reflection in the mirror. He tried to tidy himself by brushing his hair with his fingers and tucking his shirt beneath his breeches.

She knocked once more and he reached for the door, opened it a crack and frowned at her. "What the bloody hell are you—" he stopped, his mouth falling open. He opened the door wider to have a better look at her. "Are you wearing breeches?"

She smiled, enthusiastically nodding. "I was planning to visit friends and I wondered if you would like to come along."

He scowled at her. "It is the middle of the night!"

"Oh, but they are already waiting for me, see?" she said, waving a note in front of him. "I sent them a missive just this afternoon."

"Can this not wait until tomorrow?"

She cringed. "Well, uh..." she fidgeted, transferring her weight to the other foot, "uhm... they have important business to deal with on the morrow." She tried to cover her lie with a bright smile.

He narrowed his eyes at her, suspicious of the wicked glint in her eyes. But her excitement was quite contagious and he realized he wanted to be with her tonight. If this was how a man ought to pursue a lady, then he must go, yes?

He sighed. "Very well."

"Perfect! Now, grab your coat. It is quite cold where my friends live."

He went to take his coat from the bed and as he put it on, he asked, "And where, may I ask, do these friends live?"

She merely grinned. "You shall see."

******

"I do not believe it is a famous idea to be out in the middle of the night in a town such as this, Ysabella," he could not help but say as he looked around the empty road. His eyes flickered to her hand and he battled internally whether it was wise to grab her hand and hold it. But how would he do so without appearing like a fool? But by not taking it, he was already a fool.