A Lady's Guide to Courtship

XXXV. Brothers and Sisters

Dear Lord Wakefield,

I wish this short missive finds you well.

You may perhaps find this letter quite odd, but I must do this in my desperate attempts to find what I am looking for.

Have you, by any chance, seen a black cat prowling around your estate?

Sorry to have bothered you,

Lady Weis

*****

Margaret was no stranger to Wakefield. As the eldest amongst the Everard sisters, and closer in age to her older brothers, Wakefield had had the honour to know her. He even had the chance to dance with the woman before.

But he must also admit that the woman was no like any others. Her presence emitted something strong and mysterious. Her eyes had always had a knowing and curious look about them. And if she was staring at someone like she was doing now, with utter determination and confidence, it could be quite unnerving.

"Good evening, Lord Bertram," she said to Thomas, giving the man a curt nod. "Would you be so kind as to provide my husband company outside? I believe he is quite cross that I had to drag him along at such an hour."

Thomas immediately moved and although Wakefield never asked for his brother's help, he had the sudden instinct to grab Thomas' arm and beg him to stay.

But he stopped himself for it would be quite pathetic.

Margaret simply stared at him while Thomas exited the room. Once his brother had firmly closed the door, Margaret moved and without waiting for an offer, sat on the chaise.

"Fret not, my lord," she said when Wakefield took a hesitant step. "I am not my brothers. I am here as a woman and I do not yearn for blood be spilled."

He knew he ought to feel relieved, but it merely made him even more anxious. He was inclined to believe that a good beating would be less worrisome than a talk with Margaret Everard.

He came to sit back on his chair across from Margaret.

She gave him a level look. "The past few days had been difficult for us all, as you may have noticed," she started.

Wakefield swallowed with guilt.

"But I do admit that I have been amongst those who never believed Ysabella's feelings toward you."

His eyes widened with surprise.

Margaret's eyes filled with tears. "And it pains me to think that I believed it for years. She had always been a baby sister in my eyes. I ought to have realized that she was capable of growing up, that she is capable of a mature mind." She managed a bitter smile. "I believe we have all sinned against her in this regard."

His jaw tightened. Having to be reminded of how he had treated Ysabella was not fun at all.

"I am saying these things for I wish you to know that I do understand why you felt you had to stay away from her and break her heart countless of times, although unintentionally. She was merely eighteen when she made a vow to make you her husband. She had chased you around in naught but ballrooms and social events, but nothing further than that—until of late, of course when she had to be quite aggressive." She wiped the tear that rolled down her cheek. "Little did we all know that she had been seeing you for the real man that you are, that she had other means to be closer to you, thus proving her love to be true."

He nodded. "As Lady Weis."

Margaret smiled. "When did you realize?"

"Just this morning," he bit out with bitterness. "And I have been a fool to have not seen—"