Dearest Lady Weis,
Me? Marry? The chance of that happening is very much the same as your cat not disappearing again!
Perhaps in another lifetime.
Yours,
William
*****
"I am sorry, my lady," Morris mournfully uttered, "but I received specific instructions from his lordship."
Ysabella narrowed her eyes at the man. "You have allowed me entrance when my brothers were here."
The man rapidly blinked. "Well, it was a different matter entirely, my lady. My master was being murdered!"
Ysabella sighed. "And what could be the reason why I cannot enter this time around, Morris?"
The butler gulped. "Well, you are a lady and you are alone. You cannot enter."
She let out a dramatic gasp. "But I am to be your mistress soon, Morris! The entire town knows of my engagement with your master. Surely there can be no more scandal!"
"I regret this, my lady, but I truly cannot allow you entry." He leaned closer and whispered. "He has pointed out, quite very specifically as well, that I would definitely have myself thrown out should I allow you."
"I simply wish to have tea with him."
"He knew you would say so, but he said to relay the information that we do not have tea."
She narrowed her eyes. "You are lying."
Morris' face went scarlet. "It would be the master who would be lying, my lady. I am merely the messenger of the lie." When she opened her mouth to speak, he hastily added, "but he did promise to call on you this evening."
"My brothers are guarding our estate. They do not wish for the two of us to meet until the wedding."
"Ah, well, then, my lady, I do hope my master can face them again."
Ysabella finally sighed with resignation. "Very well."
"Have a good day, my lady!" Morris called out to her when she started to leave. "I am quite ecstatic to serve you soon!"
She ignored it, already fuming.
Two days! It had been two days since she last saw him! Did he not wish for her company as much as she did?
She found Emma waiting for her from across the street.
"Well? Did you find Mrs Beagle?" she asked her sister.
"No. Well, Morris did not allow you entrance, did he?"
Ysabella rolled her eyes. "Apparently, yes."
Emma fell silent as they walked back to the Everard mansion.
"Something is definitely bothering you, Em," Ysabella said.
Her sister smiled. "No, of course not."
Ysabella chose to drop the matter. Mayhap she could bring it out again later.
As they walked on, Emma broke the silence saying, "While you were talking with Morris, did you see Agnes and Nettie talking to me?"
She frowned. "No, I did not."
Emma's face turned sour. "They seemed quite amused that you are still taking such great efforts to see Wakefield when you two are to be wed in a week."
"I am certain they think the same as the rest of Wickhurst," she murmured. "Two months since the engagement and they still think it?"
"Quite so," Emma admitted. "Are you bothered?"
"No, of course not. I know the truth. Wakefield does love me."
"That is the spirit."
"Although I wonder until when would they believe that he merely agreed to marry me because I compromised him?"
Emma laughed out loud, the first in the past few days. "That gossip is the best they have ever come up with where you and Wakefield are concerned. Famous!"
Ysabella snorted. "I would have believed it myself if I was someone else. I do believe I might have been capable of it."
"Ah, but you did not."
"I would have," she uttered wickedly.
Emma gave her a look of horror.
She looped her arm around Emma's. "Now, how do you figure we ought to spend the rest of the afternoon? Tori and Lindsay are not to arrive until tomorrow. Benedict would not allow us to play with Ayah just yet. Perhaps we should call on Faye and Fiona. Are their dresses ready?"
"Yes, I believe so."
"Then off to the Devitts we should!" Ysabella said, pulling her sister along with her. "I do not wish to return home for now. Mother and Lady Hayward are quite a team to handle even with our spirits combined."
"They do leave you tired and weary, do they not?" Emma asked. "Off to the Devitts then!"
*****
Wakefield knew that he would not be permitted entry into the Everard mansion. It was the last resort of Ysabella's brothers to make him suffer, but he could not simply spend his days to the wedding without seeing her! The last he saw her, she was guarded by Ralph and Nicholas. The day before that, it was Levi.
He could not allow it this time.
And so, in the middle of the night when everyone else had retired in their beds, Wakefield crept to the back of the Everard mansion and picked up a pebble.
He threw it to the window. When it did not open, he threw another one. And another until it finally flung open to reveal the scowling face of Emma, followed by Ysabella's excited one. The two of them disappeared for a while and when they returned the long rope that he had seen Ysabella use before dropped from the window.
He stared at it, considered the risk and shrugged.
It was not an easy feat, but it was worth it the moment he reached the window.
"Our brothers would hang you this time, you know," Emma said, arms crossed over her chest.
Ysabella was already putting on her coat.
Wakefield poked his head through the window and looked around the large bedchamber. One large bed was situated at each side of the window. "Where is your bed?" he asked Ysabella.
It was Emma who pointed at the one on the right.
"And where is Mrs Beagle?" he asked, looking around for the cat.
"Disappeared once more, of course. She did return last month and disappeared yet again earlier this morning," Ysabella said, running up to him. Her face was beaming as she cupped his face and kissed him fully on the mouth.
"Do take this cringe-worthy sight outside the bedroom!" Emma hissed at them. "I do not wish to bear witness!"
"But Em—" Ysabella started but Emma held up one hand and said, "Go. I shall cover for you."
Ysabella grinned at her sister and turned to Wakefield. "Climb back down, my lord."
He did as he was told and returned to the ground. Ysabella followed, her descent faster than his. She had obviously done this too many times, he wryly thought.
*****
Moments later, they were snuggling in the woods, under a tree in front of the lake. The moonlight made the water sparkle and it mirrored the light around it.
Ysabella pulled away from Wakefield's embrace and said, "I have to confess something."
He stiffened.
"No, it is not about you, you fool. I am talking about Emma."
He frowned. "Why? You did not have another fight, did you? She seemed her usual self earlier."
"She seemed to be a bit distant of late. I often catch her looking troubled."
Wakefield blinked and considered her words. "You have been together all your lives, Ysa," he said, gauging her reaction, "and perhaps the thought of you marrying off is troubling her."
"But I am not going away. Well, not from Wickhurst. And we shall live here, yes? I would love to see Wakefield but I do not think I can live far away from Mother and Emma."
He smiled. "Yes, of course we will settle here. You are yet to see the rest of my estate."
She rolled her eyes. "Morris is doing his job keeping me off the doors marvellously well."
Wakefield chuckled and pulled her closer. "Talk with your sister. She may simply be worried that your lives shall change after you're married."
"Thank you. I shall do that," she said, pulling away from him once again. The wicked glint in her eyes was back. "What say you to a dip into the lake?"
He groaned. "No. I love my clothes dry, thank you."
"You were very furious at me when you found me in the lake during the hunting game."
Wakefield carefully chose his next words. He did not wish to mention Aurora. "Ever since I acknowledged my affections for you, Ysa, I realized I have always been different around you. I am not the rake that I was when confronted by you. I felt too many intense emotions when it comes to you."
"Yes, of course. You acted more like a scared cat every time I chase you around!"
He scoffed. "I did, did I not?" He tipped her chin up with one finger. "But now feel like a man in front of you. I acted like an older brother, like a jealous lover, like a friend... and I realize I want to be all those men for you, Ysabella Everard."
Her innocent smile swelled his heart and the happy sparkle in her eyes caused a lump in his throat.
"I have to admit I do miss you calling me little one."
"I am not going to call you my one as you have once hinted," he said, flushing.
Her laughter rang around the lake. "Of course." She shifted beside him so she could fully face him and his heart began to beat faster inside his chest, his body betraying his control once more. "Now, my lord, I am quite ready for you to take me home."
He could not help to show his disappointment.
"To your estate, I mean," she said with a seductive smile.
Wakefield swallowed. "No."
"But William, we are to be wed! We could do whatever we desire so long as we are both at the wedding!"
"Ysa, I am going to do this properly."
She pursed her lips. "But I wish to know if it will be wonderful."
His eyes widened. "Of course it will be wonderful!"
"But what if I will not like it? What if I change my mind and back off the wedding because it is not?"
Wakefield gasped in disbelief and she laughed, her shoulders shaking with it. "Of course I was merely jesting, do not look so scandalized."
He glared at her. "It is not the best joke I heard, trust me."
Ysabella chuckled and gave him a chaste kiss. "But really, it shall not matter if we do it now or later. In my mind, I have already married you a hundred times over. Are you going to make me chase for this?" She leaned back to bat her eyes at him.
God, he wanted to give in. But resist he must.
"We shall only be married once, darling. We might as well do it properly."
She looked at him for a long time and he met her gaze measure for measure. Finally she sighed and gave up.
"And while you mope," he said, drawing away from her embrace to reach inside his pocket. Her head bent down at the velvet box in his hand. "I had asked Maxwell to create this especially for you."
He opened the box and when she saw what was inside her eyes flew back to him, filled with tears.
"Quite romantic of me, is it not?" he asked proudly, taking the ring out of the box. The sapphire glinted against the moonlight.
Her hand was at the ready, eager for him to slip the ring through her finger for a perfect fit.
"Lucky for me, your brother is the maker," he lightly commented to retract the tears from his own eyes. To finally return the stone to her in such a way was creating havoc in his chest.
It was perfect.
He cupped her tearful face with one hand and gave her a kiss.
She was perfect.
*****
The guests arrived earlier than expected and most of them huddled together, whispering words faces filled with malice.
Ysabella peeked through the door, anxious to be done with the event.
She should have asked for a smaller wedding. Truly, a tiny one would have sufficed!
"When will they ever realize that I won Wakefield fairly?" she asked with frustration as she closed the door behind her.
Emma was sitting on a chaise and they were alone as their mother had to go out to order more things to anyone she could find.
"I am certain they would do so soon," Emma absently said as she bent her head over her book.
"Em," Ysabella started, gently taking the book from her sister's hold. "We must talk."
Emma scoffed. "About what? Please, if you are about to ask me how a man and woman ought to mate, I would dare not say anything although I have an idea. Mother or Margaret is the best—"
"Em, you must realize that I am not going away merely because I am marrying Wakefield," she interjected. Her sister's mouth pursed, jaw tight. "You are still my sister and my one true best friend. You must never forget that."
She started to cry and Emma did too.
"As much as I love being alone, Ysa," Emma choked, taking her hand, "I do love being alone with you the most."
Ysabella whimpered. Things would change, but she would never allow her and Emma to change. Theirs was a bond far greater than sisterhood. "I will miss you, Em. I will miss being alone with you the most as well."
Emma nodded, wiping away tears. "I will miss you dearly, but I do not wish for you to feel bad about it. I shall cope faster than you might expect."
Ysabella sniffed. "You can live with us."
Emma's tears quickly disappeared as she stared at Ysabella with horror. Ysabella laughed in return. "I would dare not! Do not attempt to suggest such a thing ever again, Ysa!"
Ysabella wiped her tears as well.
"Do not wipe your hands with your dress! It will ruin it!" Her sister scolded, taking her hand and wiping it with her own. "Now, stop crying. We shall soon see each other after your honeymoon. I will not live with you and Wakefield, but you can be certain you shall have me more often than that for tea."
Ysabella cried some more. The thought of her sister being alone in the estate with their mother clenched at her chest. But then the rest of them would always be there. Always.
The door opened and their mother walked inside with Benedict. "Are you ready?" their mother asked with a wide smile.
"Have you been crying?" Benedict asked.
"Happy tears, brother, happy tears," she lied although it was also true. Emma stood up with her and they walked outside the room and found that the entire family was waiting for them outside.
"You look beautiful, Ysa," Tori said while Lindsay stared up at her with wonder in her eyes. Beside her stood Faye and Fiona, eyes sparkling with excitement, beautiful in their gold dresses.
"Now, now, it is time for a wedding," Margaret said to everyone.
"I hate my task, but know I am doing this for you," Ralph said, coming forward to plant a disgustingly loud kiss on her cheek. "Come, fellow ushers," he said to Levi, Maxwell and Nicholas.
The three filed to give Ysabella a pat on the cheek, a wink and another loud kiss on the cheek. By the time Agatha and Tori and the children were done giving her kisses and hugs, Ysabella was crying again.
Emma wiped her tears, her own eyes filling. Her sister gave her a peck before joining the rest.
Their mother sniffed beside her as Benedict took her hand to guide her to the back of the aisle.
"Live a happy life, Ysa," Benedict whispered beside her as they watched the entourage walk down the aisle. "Never change who you are for that is how he fell in love with you." She swallowed and nodded. "I will not merely be walking you down this aisle. Remember that I will always be walking with you—all of you."
"I love you, Ben."
"And I love you, too, Ysa," he said, squeezing her hand.
"Mother," she whispered, turning to her left. "I am scared."
"Fear not, dear. We are here. So will be your husband," Lady Alice uttered, wiping Ysabella's face dry.
Emma was the last to walk and when her sister finally turned at the end of the aisle and cleared the way, she saw Wakefield standing by the altar beside Thomas. The fear crumbled away at the sight of him.
And the sudden innate urge to walk toward him pushed her forward, causing Benedict to chuckle under his breath and for her mother to nearly stumble.
Her eyes were only on him. Him and no one else.
She cared not for the ton's watchful eyes from both sides of the aisle.
She was seeing him. And he... he was seeing her.
And he was walking toward her.
Ysabella halted in her steps, confused. This was not how it was supposed to be.
"Stop right there," Wakefield said, his voice loud and clear enough for everyone to hear.
The large church was suddenly filled with hushed and excited whispers.
But Ysabella could not hear them for her heart was beating too fast and it leaped to her throat and her tears welled in her eyes when he added, "I will come to you."
Benedict let out an amused scoff beside her and her mother gasped with wonder while Wakefield took another step toward her.
He was walking toward her.
He was letting everyone know that he was here because she won the game and he was a willing loser. Yet at the same time, the way his face was filled with triumph and tenderness, he was letting them know that it was he who won.
And he was walking forward to claim his prize.
Her dashing rake was claiming her. She had once thought his beauty forbidden. But it was no more for he was hers and he was proclaiming it now.
It took almost forever for him to reach her and when he did, Ysabella fought to urge to throw her arms around him. His blue eyes glimmered with his own unshed tears as he shook Benedict's hand and gave her mother a kiss before taking her hand, his own shaking as hers.
Wakefield then tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and started walking back to the altar, his bride beside him.
She was that bride. She was his bride.
Benedict and her mother followed close behind.
As they neared the altar, she found her sisters crying for her at one side, her brothers grinning with amusement and disbelief at the other. She threw her sisters a look of tearful joy and her brothers one that silently said, I told you so.
When they reached their destination, Thomas approached them to shake his brother's hand, but not without saying, "Are you quite resolved to this idea, Ysabella? I can have my brother tied to a rock at the other end of the Town while I take his post."
"Do not push it, brother," Wakefield scowled as Ysabella giggled with happy tears.
The vicar cleared his throat and Thomas turned to sit beside the crying Lady Hayward.
As vicar started, "We are gathered here today..." Ysabella leaned her head closer to Wakefield and whispered, "Did I not announce I shall marry you in a wedding much like this years ago?"
He snorted, causing the vicar to glare at them both.
Ysabella straightened her face, so did Wakefield.
And they got married.
*****
The party was as lavish as the wedding. Spirit and dancing was abundant, and so was laughter and merry felicitations.
Ysabella was laughing with Emma, Tori and Agatha about Ayah's tendency to cry when she would sense her father leaving the room, when she noticed a familiar figure from across the ballroom, looking straight at her with a happy smile.
She frowned for the woman seemed quite out of place despite her beautiful blue gown. As a matter of fact, she did not look far from the other guests, but the look she was giving Ysabella was quite odd.
Finally, when she managed to blink a few times, and when the two very familiar men in suits stood beside the woman, Ysabella gasped and grabbed Emma's hand. "Excuse us for a moment, ladies," she said to Tori and Agatha while she dragged her unknowing sister across the floor.
She saw Wakefield coming toward her and she called out to him saying, "I shall join you in a while, darling!" her happy steps taking her closer to the lady and her two companions.
"Bloody hell!" Emma gasped when she finally saw what Ysabella saw and they both hurriedly crossed the remaining distance that separated them from the lady.
"I was hoping you would come, really, but I figured you would not risk it!" Ysabella uttered with excitement as she wrapped her arms around Alex.
"I believe it is not proper to embrace with such intimacy in such social event as this one, even if you are embracing a good friend," Alex said with a laugh.
Emma joined in, saying, "And you talk like us! Marvellous!"
"Hello, Ned, hello Barto," Ysabella said to the two men who looked very much uncomfortable in their clothes. They simply grunted with a nod.
"They refuse to talk beyond what they are used to," Alex said with a wink. "Perhaps I found the best way to shut them up, eh?"
The twins laughed.
"Ysabella had told me of your second meeting and I envy it!" Emma said.
"Ah, you can always visit us," Alex said. "And you shall not meet any rope. Am I right, Barto? Ned?"
Her cousins grunted in answer.
"You look beautiful, Alex," Ysabella stated with awe. "I barely recognized you!"
Her once bushy black mane was neatly donned, her fair skin showing, her face made up. She could pass up as gentry any day!
Alex rolled her grey eyes and leaned closer to whisper, "Am wearing me breeches underneath, me friends. This bleeding gown's not comf'table at all!"
The twins' head fell back as they roared in laughter.
"Is the Guard brother of yours here?" Alex asked.
"Of course!"
Alex blinked and let out a dramatic sigh. "Ah, too bad then." She turned to her cousins. "No gold for tonight, cousins."
Ysabella and Emma rumbled with laughter once more.
"People might think that you are both talking to a jester," Wakefield's voice said beside Ysabella. "Hello, Alex, glad you were able to come."
Alex smiled. "Ey, guv!" she whispered with a wink.
"Are you quite satisfied now?" Wakefield asked Ysabella.
When she merely stared at him with confusion, Alex said, "He sent for us, see? He gave me this gown." She motioned her head to her cousins. "And their suits."
The two men merely grunted.
Wakefield looked at them with wonder. "Speechless Ned and Barto? Well, I will be damned!"
Ned and Barto glared at him. "Ye see, guv, I still have me ropes with me." Ned hissed under his breath.
"Speech, cousins," Alex reminded them. "Watch your speech."
Ysabella stared up at Wakefield, eyes filled with adoration. "Thank you."
He leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "All for you, little one."
"Now, since you are here, Alex," Emma said, "You might as well meet Tori and Levi! It will be a grand reunion!"
"I do not think your brother Levi would want to—"
"Oh, but I would love to see his face when he recognizes you!" Emma said, pulling Alex away to find Tori and Levi. Barto and Ned followed.
Ysabella and Wakefield stayed behind to watch the four cross the room. She could not help but giggle. Alex was brushing skirts with Wickhurst's prominent personalities, people she might have stopped in the middle of the road once or twice to rob, and they had no idea!
"The Haverstons have been looking for you," Wakefield said beside her, guiding her to another part of the ballroom.
On the way there, Ralph met them, his face filled with curiosity. "Who was that woman you were talking with?"
Ysabella frowned. "Who?"
"The black hair."
"Ah, a friend. Why?"
Ralph blinked and shrugged. His head turned and he started to walk to where Emma, Alex and her cousins were.
"Should you not warn them?" Wakefield asked with worry.
"Oh, Alex shall survive this night. She is doing a terrific job. Levi, Tori and Emma would dare not reveal her identity. Now, where are the Haverstons?"
She let her husband take the lead.
She smiled, looking down at his hand holding her as they walked through the crowd of guests.
*****
Maxwell was standing with Nicholas in one corner of the room, looking at everything around him.
Levi and Tori were talking to a black-haired woman and her two male companions, Ralph, the bastard, slowly joining them, looking at the woman with great interest.
Benedict and Agatha stood in one group with their mother, Lady Hayward and Thomas. With them was Cole.
Where was Margaret?
"The bastard will die. He will not be able to handle her," Nicholas uttered beside him, eyes on Wakefield and Ysabella as they talked with the Haverstons.
Maxwell saw Margaret walk out of the ballroom.
"Put a leash on it, brother," he merely said, patting Nicholas' shoulder before walking away.
"Where are you going?"
"Sleep," he lied. His eyes were on Thomas who had left his mother's side to follow Margaret.
Maxwell looked over his shoulder and found Nicholas making his way toward Adrien Haverston and his wife. From where he was standing, he also saw Calan Haverston's eyes following Thomas but the man did not leave his wife's side and returned his attention on Ysabella and Wakefield.
Maxwell, careful not to get caught, followed Thomas and saw the man enter the study.
He did not like this. Margaret ought to find a more suitable place to handle her work with the League of Founders.
Intending to merely guard, Maxwell stood outside the door but he found that their hushed voices were clear enough for him to hear.
"Has she arrived safely?" he heard Margaret ask.
"Yes," Thomas Hayward answered.
"And the child?"
"On her way."
"Good. That is all I need to know."
Footsteps followed her statement but they stopped when Thomas asked, "Why did you do it?"
"Agree to your plan?"
"Yes."
There was a short pause before his sister replied, "Because you are correct. She is the best way for you to succeed."
"Then why do you look guilty?"
"Not as much as I would be should my family suffer instead."
"Ah, even an Everard would dare do a moral wrong."
Maxwell frowned and his jaw twitched. He did not like how the Lord of Bertram was talking to his sister.
But Margaret could handle herself as she always did. "We all protect the greater love. Miss Randolph is aware that I will not have my family be associated with her troubles. It merely took a whisper to relay my message."
"She had expressed her lack of trust on your family. Now I know why."
"And she was right to do so for I would not have allowed it," was Margaret's strong response. "I will always choose my family above all things, Bertram. Do not think I cannot do an evil act for them, even if it means putting others at risk. I have said enough. I am leaving."
"I suppose you do not wish to be part of this mission?"
"I have the slavery case. Consider me out of this. I have done enough damage."
"But you helped me find her."
"The damage I was talking about. That sacrifice merely meant I want you to succeed, Bertram, nothing else."
"You were worried, were you not? When you found out who she was. You feared for your own."
Another long silence reigned. "We may be the Everards, Bertram, but her enemy is an Osegod."
"Of course. I understand."
"I have to go. But do grant me a favour. You do owe me one."
"Of course."
"Keep her alive. And keep her child alive."
"Guilt is indeed eating you, Margaret."
"And I would allow it so long as I am saving my family from danger. You know what he is capable of. You know the horrors he has done." Maxwell leaned away from the wall he was leaning on, surprised to hear a sense of fear in Margaret's voice.
"Very well, you have my word. We are feeding them to the great wolf, but I will keep them alive if I can help it."
"Good luck, my lord and I do hope you succeed," Margaret uttered and Maxwell did not hear the rest of her words for he walked away.
He went back in the ballroom and waited until his sister emerged, face distraught. But when she saw him, she smiled and her face brightened.
He walked beside her. "What have you done, Maggie?" he whispered in a nonchalant voice.
Maggie stiffened but did not pause. "A hard decision," was her answer.
"Maggie, if the Osegod you were talking about—"
"Do not meddle, Max," Margaret snapped. "I did not take the mission for the very purpose of keeping the family from potential danger. Forget whatever you have heard for we are all safe."
"Whatever this is, Maggie, I do not like this."
"Fret not, brother," Margaret said, "let the League worry the things we all hate to face."
He did not comment. He walked away.
Ah, bloody hell, he needed to sleep.
He did not want to meddle in his sister's business or that of the League, but the mention of the Osegod name was not good at all.
Margaret better stay out of Thomas' mission.
Osegod.
Bloody hell.
If he guessed correctly, to have the head of the Town Leaders as an enemy would not do any of them good at all.