A Lady's Guide to Courtship

XV. The Climb

Dearest William,

I have been reading a book on philosophy. My past governesses would not believe I am, but it was only recently that I grew a fondness on the subject. I never liked any form of books until now, as a matter of fact. I owe it to the gracious women who tirelessly taught me the importance of reading.

I have read the book you recommended. I did not like it, but I do appreciate your great effort to make me learn more about crop plantations.

Would you be kind as to tell me what else you like to read about? Do you read geography? I hate to say that I do not like it. Mayhap if they talk more of the geography aboveground rather than what we already know, I might give more consideration.

Your friend,

Lady Weis

*****

She had expected the laughter that followed her statement, as well as the pang of pain. But as A Lady's Guide to Courtship had said, 'So long as there is pain, the battle is not won.'

"You do realize, little one, that you, amongst that other women, claims to be Lady Weis, do you not? You could have taken that passage from Samuel Theobald whom I know is acquainted with Lady Weis and a friend of yours. Bloody hell, you could have read every letter I wrote her. I might even believe should you say you know her through Samuel Theobald!"

She had expected this as well, of course.

"But I am she," she uttered through gritted teeth, surprised of the dash of anger inside her.

"I know Lady Weis, little one," he said, smiling kindly at her. "She is not you."

She hated that kind smile. It reminded her of her brothers when they thought their statements would hurt her so they tried to ease it by looking gentle.

But then he stopped smiling and the look he gave her nearly sent a tingle down to the tips of her toes. It was as if she was transported back in time to the night of the Cinderella ball when he had been blindly looking at her in the dark. His eyes seemed to be staring at her like he did that night. But it lasted for merely a few seconds because he blinked and it was gone, replaced by the patient stare he'd she was well-acquainted with.

Yet that very short glimpse gave her hope. He knew it was her who was before him and he gazed at her as though she was Lady Weis. He knew it was her, Ysabella Everard. Had he, for a few seconds, thought that she might be Lady Weis?

She wanted to tell him, to insist that she was. And she wanted to say that she was more than Lady Weis.

But she had done her part now. She had told him, boldly so, that she was Lady Weis and he did not believe her as she had expected.

No matter, Ysabella whispered in her mind, diffusing the anger. She had told him, he did not believe her.

He could no longer blame her for hiding the truth from him in the future now, could he? That was her goal tonight, really. She was here to confess, not to beg to be believed.

"Ah, such a pity that you refuse to believe me when I am being utterly honest," she said with a sigh. She peered out the window. "We are nearing my destination."

Wakefield was staring at her pensively. "You may think this matter with Lady Weis is a game, little one, but it is not. I hope you refrain from doing reckless things as this in the future."

Ysabella shrugged. "Very well, all right. I shall give you what you want, then."

He seemed not to believe her. "What I want?"