Dearest Lady Weis,
I wish that this letter finds you well.
I am quite at awe that you would spend hours under a hole to wait for rain. I have spent more time hunting in the woods and under many other holes all over the Town and never, not even once, had I thought of waiting for rain.
Ever since I was young, my mother would prohibit me from coming out of the estate when news of rainfall from aboveground would come. I believe it has become a habit that I do not venture out when the rainfall bell rings.
What does it feel like, rain?
Yours,
William
*****
Ysabella sauntered toward Wakefield who was facing away from her. She was entirely aware of the amused glances following her. They were waiting for what scene she'd do next to entertain them. Most gave her encouraging smiles.
They thought she was on a mission to frustrate an elusive rake and that amused them.
For a moment Ysabella wondered why society never took her seriously, why they still thought that this chasing game was anything but serious on her part. But then, it was quite helping her cause. They did not judge her as a desperate woman out to seduce a lord, but merely a naïve girl having fun. Why would she be serious, really? Her family was rich and she had suitors waiting for her to be ready to choose once she was over her childish games.
Mayhap their picture of her was helping after all, she thought as she straightened her back and squared her shoulders, her feet closing the distance between her and her target.
His back was still turned to her, not aware that he was about to be trapped.
"Hello, Lord Wakefield," she uttered in the most womanly voice she could muster.
She saw his shoulders stiffen before he slowly turned around to face her.
Her breath was nearly snatched out of her at the sight of him. His golden hair was naturally ruffled, as though he did try to tame them but greatly failed, his deep blue eyes, though looking faintly discomfited, were as lovely as she remembered.
William Hayward was not merely gorgeous with those thick brows and finely shaped nose, nor was he magnificent with those square jaws and firm lips.
His beauty was nearly sinful, forbidden.
Her heart hammered against her chest, not because at the sight of him, but because she was standing before him. Finally. After many months.
She found it hard to breathe not because he was here, but because she knew the man, mayhap even more so inside than outside. She knew his favourite colour, she knew of his fears and insecurities, of his naivety on simply things, of his innocence on trivial matters.
She knew him and she wished he knew it.
His firm lips formed a forced, tight smile. "Lady Ysabella," he greeted more formally than she would have hoped.
At the corner of one eye she saw Lady Hayward looking at them from her circle of friends.
Focusing her eyes on the man before her, she sweetly smiled. "Have you received the flowers I personally delivered to your door, my lord?"
His jaw clenched, mayhap because someone chuckled behind them at her open question.
His tight smile did not waver. "My butler was given instruction to do whatever he wishes with the flowers, little one."
Ysabella nearly groaned in frustration. She hated the words little and one in one sentence. "You keep breaking my heart, my lord. I am starting to truly feel the effects, if you must know." His eye twitched as she moved closer, breaching acceptable distance between two unmarried individuals of the opposite sex. "Tell me again why we cannot be?"
She smiled when his face showed frustration. "For one, your brothers will hang me," he uttered through his teeth, nearly hissing.
Ysabella blinked. Of course, it was her brothers. But it was better that he detested their reaction than detesting her, she thought. "They might beat you, but they will not hang you. How do you fare with beatings?"
"They will never allow it," he uttered dryly.
"They allowed Lord Devitt to marry Margaret. After they beat him. Do you bruise easily?"
His face contorted with discomfort, slowly turning scarlet. She could not tell whether or not he was angry or embarrassed. Both did not seem good, of course, so Ysabella chuckled and decided to let the man go for now.
"I am merely trying to make a point, my lord, do not fret," she uttered, slowly stepping away from him. "I have not asked you to marry me, you know. I simply asked why you think we cannot be." She tore her gaze from him and looked around. "I have attracted attention once again, I fear. My apologies," she said with a curtsy. "I hope to see you around. My dance card is empty. Would you like to sign your name?"
His eyes narrowed, making the deep blue depths even darker.
With a dramatic sigh, Ysabella said, "As I have guessed. Of course, you will not. Very well, have a nice evening, my lord. I shall see you around."
*****
Wakefield let out a sigh of relief when Ysabella Everard finally turned around and walked away. His eyes followed the young girl for a few seconds, taking in the sight of her.
He must admit that the chit was indeed beautiful as most of the Everards are. But she was way too young, too immature for his taste. He could easily find an easy woman to bed with the same dark hair, green eyes and full lips. He could not know what she was like under that heavy gown, but he was certain there were enough women out there who could offer better rewards. He could easily dress the same woman in black gown and satisfy his urges.
He needed not one Ysabella Everard to fill his nights. Or his future, he added in his mind with a shiver.
What he needed was the woman behind those letters, the woman who wrote with such maturity and kindness, and the woman who had showed him selflessness and love for all things simple, dangerous and mysterious.
The woman whose mind and heart he wanted to claim.
Ysabella Everard was no Lady Weis. She was an Everard, rich and spoiled. She grew up with naught but pretty things fed to her without question.
Taking his eyes off the chit, he turned around to find his mother looking at him with amusement. With a groan, he took the first step to escape this dratted ballroom.
If Lady Weis was not here, then he'd rather spend his time with fellows who cared naught for all these dashing extravaganzas.
He escaped to one of the gaming rooms.
*****
Ysabella sulked in one corner while Aurora and Emma talked with Nicholas who seemed to have found refuge from the desperate girls and their mamas in the presence of the two young ladies. For a moment she watched while her brother closely studied Aurora as she spoke, his eyes traveling to her mouth.
She hid a smile, enthralled with excitement for the two.
Once she and Emma worked their magic, Aurora would soon forget Adam Nimrod and see Nicholas as a far better option. And Nicholas would soon realize that his rakehell days were coming to an end, for love knew no time nor place.
Their mother approached her and Ysabella immediately turned to listen to the woman. "Dear, I am about ready to retire. The journey here has taken a toll on me, I fear."
"Then let me escort you to your chamber, Mother," she said, taking the woman by the hand. "Stay with Aurora and Emma, brother, I can manage," she said to Nicholas when he made a move to join them.
"Do enjoy the rest of the evenings, children," Lady Alice said to Aurora, Emma and Nicholas. "I am afraid age has caught up with me."
Ysabella took her mother to the chamber she shared with Emma. They had decided that Aurora share the same chamber with her. Once she had deposited her mother safely to bed, Ysabella walked out of the chamber to go back to the ball.
But her steps faltered as she walked. He would not be there. He had disappeared into one of the gaming rooms and although she would love to find him, she realized that she did not have the energy to do so. She knew what he would do. He'd take her back to Nicholas and demand that she stay where she was supposed to.
Yes, she could pretend to enjoy the ball, but she was tired to do so. Mayhap it was time for her to go to bed as well? Tomorrow her mood might lighten after a good night's rest.
Having made her decision, Ysabella turned around to find her bedchamber. She'd ring for a maid to deliver a note to her sister and Aurora that she had retired for the night as well.
The Theobald mansion was humongous with hundreds of rooms and corridors and soon Ysabella found herself lost. She had merely been attending the Theobald weekend parties for three years and she had not accustomed herself to its every nook and corner unlike their sister Margaret who had been to numerous Theobald parties before she married Lord Cole Devitt three years past.
Ysabella turned into one of the corridors, hoping to spot something familiar that would lead her to the chambers or even the grand ballroom, but the farther she walked she realized she had utterly lost herself.
She tried to listen for sounds of any kind and realized that she had to go back to her mother's chamber and start all over. On her way there, she heard roaring laughter coming from the corridor she passed by. It must be one of the gaming rooms. She entered and made her way down the corridor, careful to remember the doors she passed.
"Yes, yes, of course! You will not believe what they hide, truly, you won't!"
Ysabella jumped to her feet when she heard the familiar voice. Lady Gedge, one of the most notorious gossipmongers in Wickhurst. Groaning in frustration, Ysabella decided she must escape the woman before she trapped her into a long narrative of the latest gossips in the Town. Her latest obsession was the Haverstons from Willowfair. Ysabella would not wish to discuss them as the family were friends of theirs and had helped them in many occasions in the past.
As Lady Gedge and her companions' voices neared, Ysabella turned to the door to her right and pushed it open. It was a small drawing room. She slowly closed it behind her and pressed her ears to the door, hoping the ladies would pass by fast. Their presence in the corridor meant the ballroom was nearby.
But to her dismay, they voices stopped just outside the door. "Come, we must be very careful for what I am about to tell is highly sensitive."
Ysabella jumped away from the door and looked around the room in panic. She found a door and rushed toward it. A closet. Of course.
The door of the drawing room opened and Ysabella jumped inside the closet and very carefully closed it, holding her breath.
"Good, it is empty," Lady Gedge's excited voice said.
Ysabella gritted her teeth in frustration. This would take a very long time, she thought, as she listened to their quiet footsteps.
"The Theobalds, like the Everards, my dear friends, have secrets of their own."
"I do not believe the Everards have secrets," a voice replied. "They do not keep anything from us all! Or have you forgotten the scandals they caused? Marrying a witch, eloping to Tiny Town and was it true that Lady Margaret was a lover to Lord Devitt before they married?"
Laughter rang around the room and Ysabella stopped herself from bursting out of the closet and lash out on them all for laughing at the expense of her family.
"Oh, very well, then, I must admit you are correct. The Everards do not have the decency to keep anything secret," Lady Gedge uttered, "but the Theobalds, dear, has something you all do not know."
"And what is that?"
"Oh, they are keeping a big secret, indeed."
"Oh, do tell us, Gedge! Come on, you have brought us here to do so. Spill it already," an impatient voice said.
A long silence followed, Lady Gedge making certain that her next words were preceded with such anticipation. Ysabella held her breath, also ashamedly and impatiently waiting for the gossip.
"They are keeping a bastard," Lady Gedge revealed. The gasps from the other ladies muffled Ysabella's. She clamped her hand over her mouth to stop any sound that might escape her.
"How do you know of this?" one lady asked the same question that was playing inside Ysabella's head.
"Oh, one of my maids is related to one of the maids here," Lady Gedge uttered.
"And you believe her?"
"She would dare not lie to me, dear. I have helped her family too many times in the past and she knows it would not help to repay me with lies in gossips," Lady Gedge snapped. "You do not believe me, do you? I found it hard to believe as well. Lord Theobald does not seem to be a man who would take a mistress. But then, we all do not know what our husbands do when they are away, do we?"
"But why would they keep the bastard here? Surely, Lady Theobald would not allow it-"
"She has forgiven him, I believe. My maid does not know all the details, of course, as her cousin merely spilled the secret accidentally."
"I cannot believe it! The Theobalds!" a horrified voice uttered.
"Believe it, dear. It is true."
Ysabella's hand dropped to her side. The Theobalds were friends of theirs. She was friend of their son, Samuel.
Was that why Samuel did not frequent his family's weekend parties? Was that why he chose to live in Wickhurst instead of here? Could this hearsay be true?
She shook her head. True or not, she refused to make this discovery taint her relationship with Samuel and his family. They had been naught but kind.
The ladies continued their gossiping, making conclusions that were rather farce, making Ysabella impatient. How long would it take before they exited the room?
Her legs were getting tired and she slowly slipped down on the floor of the closet and curled her knees under her chin. It seemed that she would have to wait.
*****
The news that Ysabella Everard was missing spread throughout the party. Wakefield and some of Nicholas' friends were forced to step out of the gaming room to help search for the young girl.
"That girl is bound for true trouble someday, I tell you," one lord muttered as they walked down the corridor while the others spread around to different parts of the mansion. "Targeting you as the subject of her game to constantly be the center of attention frustrates not merely you, Wakefield, but other men in general. As a matter of fact, I believe that this disappearing act is merely done to attract the attention of everyone, you included. You deserve to be left alone to your own devices."
Wakefield refused to comment, not entirely certain how to.
"If it is I who is subjected to such immature advances, that girl would find herself ruined beyond repair. You are too nice to her."
The statement did not reach its desired effects. "What do you mean by that, Forge?" he bit out.
The man sneered. "That I would have my way with her. She'd get what she wants and I'd get what she could offer. She is young, you know. She may not be what I'd be looking for a wife, but she will be fresh and willing. I suggest you-"
He grabbed the man's collar and pushed him against the wall. "Ysabella Everard is the sister of Levi Everard, my friend. Her brothers consider me a friend as do I. As much as I do not appreciate her games, I would not condone any statements about her similar to the ones you just made. She is but a child who is yet to learn her lesson, but we are not the men to give her that," he hissed down at the man. "Do I make myself clear?"
Forge pushed him away and fixed his collar. "Bloody hell, Wakefield, I was just jesting! I would not want all Everard men coming after me with their hunting guns and knives."
"Then keep your bloody jokes to yourself," he snapped, storming down the corridor.
"And she is no child," he heard the man mutter behind him.
"Take the opposite corridor," he snapped over his shoulder, dismissing the man.
He made a sharp turn into a different corridor, not certain whether he should continue the search. He would not wish to be the first to find her, really. She would make the wrong assumptions and would then not leave him alone.
He sighed. But he must help searching.
Walking down the corridor, he met Lady Gedge and some of her friends.
"Lord Wakefield! What are you doing here?"
"Lady Ysabella has gone missing. Her family is worried. I am helping to find her. Have you seen her?" he asked.
The lady laughed. "Missing, eh? Are you quite certain?" the woman asked, staring him down with eyes filled with meaning. "For all we know, she might be lurking in a dark corner, ready to pounce on you, my lord."
Wakefield's jaw tightened. Ysabella Everard had made a reputation for herself.
With his lack of enthusiasm, Lady Gedge turned to her friends before speaking to him. "No, my lord, I am afraid we have not seen the girl."
He gave them a polite smile before excusing himself. He walked around them to continue down the corridor. Their voices faded as they disappeared.
Wakefield jumped when a door suddenly burst open and a woman walked out, her black gown nearly dishevelled. His eyes rounded in surprise.
"Where have you been?" he demanded. At the back of his mind, he knew he sounded like one of her older brothers.
Ysabella gasped in surprise and whirled around to face him. "Lord Wakefield!" she said, her green eyes wide. But soon a smile crept up her face as she added, "I was trapped inside a closet for hours and-"
"Your sister and brother are sick with worry," he interjected, walking closer. He was suddenly feeling quiet enraged after everything she had caused. "I should escort you back to them at once."
"But I am not going back to the party. I am-"
"No more games, little one," he snapped at her. "You do not want me to get-"
His words left him when she suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled him back into the room she had exited. She closed the door behind them and used him to push it close.
"I am not playing this game with you-"
"Hush!" she whispered, covering his mouth with her soft hands. "Someone is coming down the corridor," she added, her head just inches away from his chin. She lifted her gaze to meet his glare. "You would not wish for anyone to see you and I together alone, yes?"
He started to protest to tell her that everyone knew he was out to find her, that not a soul would think he'd do anything to her, but decided to keep silent. Better not let anyone find them after all. She might use it to her advantage.
"You told us you are staying inside your room," a voice said outside the door. Wakefield frowned. It was Lady Theobald. He looked down at Ysabella, her hand still over his mouth. She was frowning as well.
"I did, but I did not say I might change my mind," a female voice replied.
"I do not know what I should do with you, truly," Lady Theobald said with frustration. "Your father and I are-"
"Do not worry, Lady Theobald," said the voice, "I shall return to my room. No one will have to find me. Tell father not to fret. No need to escort me, I know my way around."
The voices faded away and Wakefield realized that Ysabella's hand had released him. And then she was pulling him away from the door to open it.
"I thought you wanted-" he started to ask but she glanced over her shoulder to say, "Hush, my lord, or they will catch us."
"Who?"
She appeared to consider her words and did not reply. She opened the door a few inches and poked her head out.
Placing his hands on his hips, he waited to what she would do next.
When she started to slip through the door, he asked, "What the bloody hell are you-"
But she was no longer listening. She walked out of the room and he had no choice but to follow her. It seemed that she knew where she was going.
"I hope you are walking back to the ballroom," he said behind her.
But Ysabella Everard seemed to have forgotten he was there at all. This is new, he thought dryly.
"Where are you going, little one?" he asked when she started for the staircase that led to the upper floors. "That is not the way to the ballroom."
"I am out for a treasure hunt," she said with a wicked smile over her shoulder.
He tensed. And then he frowned. Did she intend to follow Lady Theobald and the woman? "You cannot be thinking of-"
"If you are afraid to get caught, my lord, you can go back to the party. Tell them I am fine." She continued her climb up the stairs.
Wakefield looked around. There was no one there.
And he must admit he was curious as well. Lady Theobald was not talking to just someone who was a guest in the party. The woman addressed Lord Theobald as her father. But Lord and Lady Theobald had no daughter.
Ysabella Everard had reached the top landing.
He cursed under his breath before he ran up the stairs to follow her.
She turned to the right while he followed close behind.
This was stupid and reckless, he thought. How could he let himself do this with this woman? Ha! He was following the very chit he had been trying to avoid!
"You do not know where they went," he hissed at her.
"Hush!" she hissed back.
She continued down the corridor. He followed.
"Why are you following me?" a stern voice said behind them. Ysabella and Wakefield jumped to their feet and whirled around. "No one is allowed to lurk in this part of the mansion."
A young lady with dark hair was glaring at them both, obviously not pleased that she had company.