A Lady's Guide to Courtship

XXXV. A Lord's Guide to a Carriage Ride

Her nose flared as she fought the tears that threatened to escape.

"Before I knew who Lady Weis is, I could not accept anyone for I could not see her in anyone. I refused to do so. She was unique and almost unreal in my mind. She was like the fairy tale you have been talking about." He reached out to take her hand and she let him. She let him because she wanted to and because she felt weak to pull back.

His hand rubbed the top of hers, his eyes searching hers. "And then I started seeing you—the real you." He gulped, his hands shaking around hers with his words. "In my head, Lady Weis had no actual voice. Ysabella Everard does. You talk too loud and too provocatively. You like to sing and although I am yet to hear it, I know it will be quite as awful as your pianoforte skills, but I would love it nonetheless because you love doing it and find no shame in it. I could listen to your voice all day talking about everything and anything that might fit your fancy."

Her lips shivered and she could no longer stop her tears and they rolled down her cheeks. He reached up to wipe them away with his fingers.

"Lady Weis never talked about her friends and her adventures with them in fear of giving out clues of her identity. Ysabella Everard forced me to join hers. You are friends with bandits and I am not certain if I can live with that, but I love that you draw no lines around you.

"I never read about Lady Weis' adventures in specifics. Ysabella Everard let me join hers. You forced me into so many frustrating, challenging and exciting journeys to your very being and your life. You are carefree and honest and you love truly."

He seemed unstoppable now. His words rolled ought of his tongue and she could barely keep up. But she realized what he was trying to do. He was letting her know that she knew her, her and Lady Weis.

"In my head, Lady Weis knew the worst of me through my letters but all the while I never knew Ysabella Everard saw more than that—she saw far beyond that and she wanted me far beyond that." He choked at his last word and he swallowed. "You... you showed me everything that Lady Weis never was and I love every single part of you. I love you, Ysabella Everard, all of you."

Ysabella's shoulders were now shaking as she whimpered in tears and wonder.

"I do not deserve your love, but I want it. I yearn for it and I will work my arse off to prove to you that I love you the same. I fell for you in more ways I did for the woman who penned those letters. You have crept into my heart, Ysabella, and I God smite me right this moment if I do not accept it."

When Ysabella saw his tears through her own, she finally gave in. She slowly slumped down toward him and he caught her as she caught his face in her hands and kissed him, tasting her own tears. She heard his great sigh of relief when she wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight embrace and buried her face in his shoulder.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing her shoulder. "I love you."

This was far from what she had imagined. Not as far-fetched or impossible, but it was real.

Gently leaning away from her, Wakefield cupped her face and wiped her tears dry with his thumbs. "You are not going to Devonshire, are you?"

She scoffed and shook her head, eyes filling with fresh tears.

When he leaned to kiss her, she pushed him away. "Would you not wish for me to wear the mask? You might just recognize Lady Weis' kiss," she could not help but jest.

He groaned and leaned his forehead against hers, eyes tightly closed as if in pain. "Do stop tormenting me, Ysa," he begged. "I already do feel utterly stupid."