"A love not shown is more painful than a love rejected."
SHE IS DETERMINED...
The town of Wickhurst sees Ysabella Everard as a spoiled, rich young girl. What Ysa believes on the other hand is that she will someday get the man of her dreams and that...
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A/N:
Hello, Dear Reader!
If you came here after reading the new edition of Sleeping Engagement, please be reminded that this story is currently being edited offline. Expect certain detail or plot inconsistencies in this story and the rest of the Everard titles. I hope you can be patient with me as I work hard editing the entire series!
Thank you!
J.D. Ruiz (greenwriter)
*****
After having nearly read all eight of their grandmother's novels about the Town, a place that may or not be fictional for they are yet to discover it from their grandmother, Valerie and Violet still had too many questions in their minds.
The third book spoke of their grandmother's story, of the beginning of her childhood in a place and society built hundreds of feet belowground centuries and centuries ago. It spoke of interesting characters and stories that caused the twins hungering for more answers.
"Gramp is not your cousin, is he?" Valerie asked for the nth time. "Because that would be weird. I don't care if the Town lives in a Victorian or Edwardian or whatever era it is, but if my calculation is right, you and gramp got together in year 2028 or so. That is no ancient time, gram. And correct me if I am wrong, marrying your cousin can be considered incest then, even now, in most parts of the world."
"Unless the Town is really real," Violet interjected, looking at their grandmother for clues. "Unless it is real and you guys really did follow a different societal norm."
"It is still bothersome to think about, Vee," Valerie murmured.
Their grandmother simply chuckled.
Violet groaned. "Why don't you just tell us everything? We came all the way here to-"
"I am hurt, dears," their grandmother said, hands on her chest, "that you came not to be with your grandparents but to satisfy your curiosities."
The twins shared a pained look. "We do miss you both, of course," Valerie said in haste, "but we are also immensely, irrevocably curious."
"Your grandfather and I had a somewhat different sort of story, dears," Fiona Trilby said. "It was complicated at best, but it was utterly rewarding in the end. You can ask him about how we started if you truly wish to know the details, but I am telling you that your gramp is no storyteller."
They grumbled. Their grandfather was not someone who would mince words. He'd simply take the fun out of the story to get it done, possibly in one sentence if he could manage it. Their grandmother may be playing with them by delaying the tale, but they both knew the woman would be the best source.
"Fine," Violet said, giving up. She held up her hands in surrender. "We will wait until you can't wait to tell us your story."
"I just can't get it why mom never told us," Valerie said with a frown. "Does she know?"
"Of course," the old woman replied.
"But she never told us!" they chorused.
Old, nearly grayish eyebrows rose to form a questioning look. "Have you ever asked?"
They groaned. Of course they have not. Who would have thought that their grandparents could have had such a story?
"Never think that old folks are boring, my dears, for once in their lives they did live as young as you. Be curious with everything as your mother was when she was young." The twins had a sudden urge to call their mother, but the woman was pretty much like their grandfather. She would be a sore storyteller. Fiona Trilby stood to her feet. "Get your things settled in the guest room. Your gramp will arrive any moment now. He will be utterly happy to see you both."
Violet and Valerie dragged themselves to the direction of the guest room when Valerie stopped to face their grandmother once more. "Gram, one question..."
"So long as it is not about your gramp and I-for I would need a far greater time than a weekend with you two to tell you everything-you can ask me any question, dear."
Valerie formulated her words carefully. "Ysabella has always fascinated me, but I never thought she could be like that. Reading the three previous books before her story gave me a glimpse of a childish eighteen-year-old who was obsessed with a man ten years her senior and I must admit that in some occasion she did piss me off-she and Emma, especially that time when they got themselves dragged into Meriwether and the bandits-but I was surprised of her character. I still am, actually." She paused before she continued, "I wonder, since you told us that you have added some bits and pieces to make the stories exciting, if she really is the woman you painted her to be. The one in her story is quite different."
Fiona Trilby sighed and smiled. "Yes, I did add details here and there to fit my fancy, but I swear to you that every bit of character in those books has not been tampered with. Ysabella Everard, my dears, was a whole bunch of everything." Her eyes twinkled at the memory. "Emma may be fun and the two of them could do so many crazy things when they put their minds to it, but Emma is not as much fun without Ysabella. Emma had her own quirks, but Ysabella Everard... now, that lady had so much of many things in her that I myself even found it hard to believe she was but one person. She was exciting, fun, peculiar-everything any storyteller could imagine a character to be."
"She was also quite determined. Too determined, in fact," Violet added with a snort. "Wakefield did not know what was coming for him."
Their grandmother nodded. "She was determined, yes, but what she felt toward Lord Wakefield was more than what her family had anticipated."
"No one took her obsession too seriously, really," Valerie said. "Even I thought she'd get over the guy, but I was proven wrong. She chose to waste years chasing him!"
"I remember the day she lost him and I remember Maggie crying for her," their grandmother said, her eyes watered as she ventured into that memory. "Ysabella Everard was one of the bravest girls I had ever known. She loved fully, lived her live with naught but the desire to be happy, and yet she also had her heart broken too many times than she deserved."
