Dear Lady Weis,
I have to be honest and say that I abhor the idea of caging the cat.
It may simply be lonely, thus the disappearances.
Caging it, I fear, would not merely fail to abolish its loneliness, but you will deny its freedom as well.
I do hope you reconsider.
From someone who does not have a cat but does love his freedom,
William Hayward, Lord of Wakefield
*****
"Do not look so surprised, Miss Randolph," Thomas said, walking into the room to sit on the chaise. "I gather you are quite surprised of my presence. I do not do this very often, after all."
He watched her turn to face him, her eyes curious and scared. Her body was stiff as if it was ready to run any moment and escape.
"I am a very curious individual, and unlike my brother, I have means to... let us say, look into things." He smiled when her jaw twitched. "Would you like to play a guessing game?" He rested his chin on the tips of two fingers.
She did not reply. She did not even move.
Thomas let out a low chuckle, looking at her up and down. "Do you not want to guess why I am here?"
Again, no reply.
"Very well, then, I shall start," he feigned to think deeply as he tapped one finger against his chin. "You grew up in Granville." She did move, but merely a twitch. He was enjoying this. "Your parents were merchants, but were very bad at the business. They were buried with debts." He watched as she carefully let out a shaky breath. "They sent you to Sheills for a season, hoping you'd land yourself a lord. You failed them. Then you were whisked away to Willowfair eight years ago." Finally her eyes betrayed her and Thomas saw them move in panic. "But they died, did they not? Despite what you told everyone in Wickhurst, you are an orphan."
The way she managed to cover the panic was astounding. In merely a blink, she managed a smile. But he would not be fooled by the arrogant mien she was trying to muster.
"Am I doing a marvellous job?" he asked. This time he got a reply. She shrugged. "Then shall I continue?" Her nose flared, this time in anger. "You did try to work as a governess for the Osegods to pay your parents' debts. A very powerful family, the Osegods. They treated you well. That is, until you found yourself in love with Alan Osegod himself."
"Stop," she finally said in a cold, eerie voice.
"Ah, but I am enjoying this, Miss Randolph. Very much so, in fact. Now, where was I?" He stood to his feet to walk to the corner to pour himself a glass of brandy. "He took you in as his mistress. He gave you everything your parents could never have afforded. Finally you were able to pay half of the debts. But something happened." He paused to sip from his glass. When he turned, he saw her standing in the middle of the room looking as pale as paper. "Something forced you to disappear from Willowfair."
He slowly made his way back to the chaise.
"You disappeared for three years, but more than two years ago, you came to Wickhurst for another chance of a season. No one knows you here. You tried to bury the past. But the money was running out and this time you knew the easiest way to secure one and you found another lover. You became friends with the Everards. But fate can truly be cruel, yes? Your lover hurt you when he caught you stealing from him." He clucked his tongue, shaking his head. "Suddenly you found yourself nearly at death's door until my brother found you. The rest, as they say, is history."
When he saw the relief in her face, he nearly laughed. He was not done.
"But what I do not understand, Miss Randolph, is why you would want to betray a friend who had been naught but good to you. Why would you risk losing my brother's protection?" He let out a look of mocked confusion. "You are in need of protection, that is given. But from whom? Surely not your second lover here in Wickhurst, the man who nearly killed you. A fool would know that to escape out of town would be the best way. But you chose to stay here. That leaves Alan Osegod then, yes?"
Her eyes widened and the panic resurfaced. Her lips pursed, hands balling into fists beside her.
Thomas sighed. "But why would a Town Leader come after you? Surely there are far more beautiful women in Willowfair to satisfy him." He chuckled when she lifted her chin in an arrogant fashion. "You betrayed your friend to secure my brother's protection for what, Miss Randolph? Why the desperation?"
"The money?" Her jaw flinched. "Mayhap, but not quite enough. For someone who has as much pride as you, I believe you would have secured another position as a governess here instead of once again making yourself yet another man's mistress. Surely a governess' wage could eventually pay off your parents' debts." He sipped from his glass once again. "Mayhap the debts were not the only cause of monetary concern. I wonder then what happened in those missing three years before you came to Wickhurst."
This time her gaze was murderous. "I told you to stop, my lord. Remove yourself from my estate!"
"I shall, after our talk, of course," he snapped at her darkly. "You have done enough damage on Ysabella Everard, I heard. She is a sweet lady and I have gotten quite fond of her. And you broke her heart. Why, Miss Randolph? Surely there is a far justifiable reason behind betraying one's friend."
"I have no friends," she spat out although her eyes did waver at the last word.
"What could make a woman so desperate that she would whore herself and betray those around her?" he continued. "Money? Greed for more of the same? Protection? Revenge?" He slowly smiled, letting the silence reign a little longer before he added, "a child."
And that was when he finally saw her show real emotion. The fury in her eyes as she stormed toward him nearly made him jump to his feet. "You bastard!" she shouted, tears flying out of her eyes as she approached.
But she stopped short when Thomas said, "Take another step and your precious girl shall be taken out of Granville and I would personally deliver her to her own father." The horror in her eyes was quite unsettling. "He wants her, does he not? Or should I say, he does not want her enough that he desires to find you and dispose of her."
Her face contorted in fury and pain, her face the same hue as her hair, her eyes scathing.
Thomas smiled. "Ah, the wonders of a child. Such a small creature, yet so capable of innocently pushing one to do the vilest of deeds."
"I swear if you touch one strand of her hair, I will torch you alive," her shaky voice warned and he almost believed her. He saw it her eyes—the passion and fire too great that he knew he had finally found her greatest weakness. Before he could say more, she said, "What do you want from me? I know your kind, my lord. You always want something."
"Simple, Miss Randolph. You disappear from my brother's life completely. You free Wickhurst of your filthy presence."
She scoffed. "I intend to do that."
"But I shall make the arrangements for you, of course."
"I can manage—"
"With the money you can get from selling this estate? It shall cost quite much, but would it be enough to offer you the protection you need from Osegod? Enough to see through your child's needs?" He shook his head when she remained silent, lips quivering. "It would barely cover your little angel's expenses, my dear. I am correct, yes? Her condition is not as perfect as the others." He sighed and stood up. "You cannot forever whore yourself for men would always find someone younger and more fun." He gave her an assessing look. "And by how I see you, you are no fun at all, Miss Randolph. One look into your eyes and a man would immediately see trouble and a deep, seething kind of doom." He placed his glass on the table. "It is settled. A carriage shall arrive by the morrow to take you out of Wickhurst. You shall assume a new identity and yes, Miss Randolph, I shall be kind enough to allow the girl to join you."
"Why are you doing this?" she demanded.
He shrugged. "You have someone you protect, I have mine. I do not wish for our good name be tainted by you. We are to be united with the Everards and it is a great honour. So long as you stay out of the picture. If making you satisfied would help, then I must do it. And a satisfied woman shall not cause trouble, yes?" He did not expect her to respond. "But do what you did with my brother, Miss Randolph, and your child shall soon face her father—before he kills her, of course. Both of us know what Osegod is capable of, do we not? A bastard may taint his name, but that is not merely why he is after her, is it?"
"She is not—"
"A cretin?" he asked. Her hands flew out of nowhere but he caught it. "It hurts to hear the word, does it not? They do have another term for it, but I would dare not say it. You cannot change her—"
"I never dreamed of changing her! Not one part of her!"
He shoved her hand away and she stumbled. "Then why hide her?" He clucked his tongue at her silence. "You know what happens to the likes of her, do you? They send them away, Miss Randolph, because they are never a part of society. And you still say you would not wish to change her? You must be jesting!" He took a step back. "This is why you are in such pathetic situation. You cannot let her go."
Tears of anger were streaming down her face and her entire body shook with it. "You obviously never had anyone you would sacrifice even your honour for. You're a monster."
"Your former friends do believe you are as well, Miss Randolph. But you are not the only one. My family may think me an arrogant bastard, but they too are not aware of what else I can do."
He started to walk toward the door, brushing past her as she shivered, controlling her tears. "Dare not try to escape, my dear. I am quite capable of finding anything. Be ready by the morrow."
"This is not merely about protecting your name. I know you have something planned. If you plan to use me to—"
"Trust me when I say that I will do anything for my name and honour," he droned on. "Be content I am not throwing the child to an asylum where the rest of the ton would point her to if they know of her. Do as I say and leave Wickhurst as quietly as you arrived."
He heard her pained whimper and ignored it.
Stopping by the doorway, Thomas asked, "I am good at guessing as you may have noticed, Miss Randolph, but I could not ken why you never asked for their help? The Everards, I mean."
He watched her shoulders stiffen. She did not turn, her back still facing him. "No one would dare go against the most powerful man in the Town, my lord—even the Everards. And I am yet to see someone who would accept and embrace, as what you would call her, a cretin."
Without another word, Thomas turned and left the room. He nodded at the butler who had let him in.
When he finally settled inside his carriage, Thomas smiled with contentment.
He now had the person Osegod wanted the most.
The perfect pawn.
*****
Levi's arrival was delayed until the next day, but he did arrive much to Ysabella's horror. It was Emma who rushed into their chamber that morning to breathlessly say, "He's here! He's here!"
Ysabella jumped out of bed and out the door, still in her nightgown, but her sister called out to her saying, "They've already left, Ysa!" to which Ysabella made a sharp turn to ran back inside the room to grab a dress. She placed it over her head and Emma helped her, buttoning the buttons at the back. "He was utterly red with fury, Ysa. I am telling you, he looked as though he was ready to kill!"
"Oh Sweet Mr. Jones!" Ysabella uttered, rushing out the door while Emma finished buttoning her gown.
Once her dress was looking quite presentable enough, they both bounded down the stairs but stopped short when they found Benedict at the door, waiting for her, blocking her path.
Her brother's scars deepened as he smiled. "I volunteered to make certain that you stay indoors."
Ysabella gasped in disbelief. "Ben! You cannot let them do this to him! Please, you cannot—"
Her brother sighed and turned to open the door. "But I did not specifically say which indoor," he said.
"You are the best eldest brother I had ever had!" Ysabella said, rushing up to him to give him a hug, kissing his scarred face.
He scowled down at her. "I am your only eldest brother," he wryly said.
Ysabella beamed. "Precisely."
He rolled his eyes. "The carriage is—"
"We love you, Ben!" Emma interrupted, pushing Ysabella out the door. "Come, Ysa, we must hurry!"
*****
Wakefield stumbled and fell on the floor of his own study when Levi's fist crashed into his cheek.
He shook his head to clear his vision and he knew blood was tricking down the side of his lips. He dared not touch it for it would be awfully pathetic to lose consciousness in front of his friends—who were, at the moment, his foes.
"I have warned you countless of times, Wakefield," Levi Everard snarled above him, green eyes nearly in fire. His once perfectly made up hair was in disarray, a sign that he had ridden on horseback from Standbury to Wickhurst.
Wakefield began to stand up but Levi's fist came down once again.
"That must have hurt," he heard Ralph's voice from somewhere.
"Not enough," said Nicholas said.
"Why are you here again, Devitt?" asked Maxwell's bored voice from a far corner.
"Wife's orders, gentlemen. She concluded you would be here at this hour," was Cole Devitt's reply. "Simply ensuring none of you goes to prison."
"Prison my arse!" Levi retorted, grabbing Wakefield's collar to pull him back on his feet.
"Have you made certain my mother is not here?" Wakefield asked no one in particular.
"Your butler suggested to your brother to take Lady Hayward to the park," Maxwell replied. "Bertram added that he would need to borrow your study this afternoon. I am guarding the desk, as you can see—if you can see through the swelling, of course."
Another blow came from Levi and Wakefield's vision nearly went black.
Bloody hell.
"Stop it this instant!" Ysabella's voice cried out, followed by the crash of the door against the wall.
Ah, bloody hell.
"What are you doing here, Ysabella?"
"Saving my future husband, of course!" Her voice was nearer now. "Let go of him, Levi. He is mine."
Wakefield's chest swelled at the claim, but this was not the time to grab her and kiss her for it.
"I am not done, Ysabella," Levi growled.
"I believe you are. Oh Sweet Mr. Jones, he is bleeding!"
Wakefield groaned at the reminder.
"He is a rake! He is not pure enough for you!" Levi shouted and Wakefield peered through one half-closed eyes. From one side of the room, Ralph and Nicholas were nodding. On the other side, beside his table, was Cole Devitt with a look of distaste on his face. Maxwell stood beside Devitt, hip hitched on the table, face filled with amusement.
To his surprise, Benedict was by the door standing with Emma.
"As every bloody man in the Town!" Ysabella shouted back at her brother, her face filled with frustration. "I know him, brother, do not mistake that. I know he's had lovers and I accept him."
Levi let go of Wakefield's collar. He slumped on the floor with a grunt. A drop of his blood fell on his hand. He closed his eyes to fight the dizzyiness.
Bloody hell, not now!
"Ysabella, you do not know what—"
"I have been through so much to get him and I shall not allow any of you to be fools and deny me of him!"
Wakefield opened one eye. Everyone was staring at Ysabella with awe.
"And dare not talk about age or I swear to God I will kill all of you!" she growled. "Including you," she pointedly said to Wakefield.
"Bloody bastard," Levi snapped at Wakefield, eyes murderous. "I ought to have had you killed the moment you flirted with my wife."
"I believe you've had your fill," Benedict said from the door.
Ysabella rushed forward and bent down to help Wakefield to his feet. She started to wie the blood off his lips while Levi stood his ground, glaring at him.
Benedict looked around the room. "Can I go back to my wife now?" he asked before adding, "That includes everyone but Wakefield."
Ralph and Nicholas groaned. Devitt immediately jumped to his feet to join Benedict at the doorway. Emma was grinning from ear to ear.
Maxwell, however, stayed to stand beside Levi and asked, "Did you make him grovel as I advised?" His eyes were on Ysabella.
When Wakefield opened his mouth to answer, Ysabella nudged his side and hastily uttered, "Of course! He nearly kissed my toes if I did not stop him!"
Levi made a motion to attack Wakefield once more, but Benedict's distinct voice said, "Lady Hayward shall be returning, I believe, Levi. Mother would soon call on her to discuss about the wedding and we would not want our own to know about this at all."
Levi stepped closer, nose to nose with Wakefield. "Hurt her, make her cry, or dare glance at another woman and I will have your throat."
"Would not dream of it," Wakefield uttered, wincing in pain.
Levi lightly pushed him away before he whirled around to join his brothers outside the door.
"Ysabella, you cannot stay," Maxwell warned, following Levi.
Ysabella hesitated.
"Go," Wakefield whispered to her. "I will call on you this afternoon."
Ralph came back to get Ysabella. He pulled his sister away, but not without sneering at Wakefield.
"How does it make you feel having your siblings meddling with your romantic life, sister? Fun, eh?" Wakefield heard Ralph whisper to Ysabella as the two sauntered to the door.
"Not as fun as I would have when your time comes, brother," Ysabella replied.
Wakefield snorted—or gurgled—at her quip. Ysabella looked over her shoulder to send Wakefield a wink before she disappeared out of the room with her family.
Wakefield let out a sigh of relief.
Then he suddenly felt faint.
Now, where the bloody hell was Morris?