A Lady's Guide to Courtship

XXXV. A Lord's Guide to a Carriage Ride

Dear Lady Weis,

I am not aware of any presence of a feline around the premises of my estate.

In agreement that your letter is odd,

William Hayward, Lord of Wakefield

*****

Ysabella did not speak for she could not find a word to say. As the carriage turned to a different direction she looked out the window in alarm.

Was he abducting her?

"My brother would not like this at all, my lord," she managed to say in a deadpan voice and the grin was wiped off his face. "Where do you intend to take me?"

He shrugged. "I truly do not care at the moment." His voice was calm and composed, far from the one he used during their talk in the parlour.

But his gaze was the same—intense and determined. Ysabella swallowed, her heart hammering against her chest.

"Are you giving up, Ysa?" he asked, eyes wary.

She blinked. "Yes. I am leaving as you can see," she uttered with defiance, sticking her chin out.

His jaw tightened. "Why?" he whispered.

She wanted to leap across the carriage and throw her arms around him but she stopped himself. Praying for strength, she started, "I have been reading a book on how to court a lord for quite some time now." His brows arched with wonder. "I've read it from cover to cover too many times than necessary. And do you know the most important lesson it taught me?" she asked, voice shaking.

Slowly, he shook his head, his eyes staring at her with longing.

"Know the right moment to leave."

At her words, his eyes flickered with raw fear and he did not bother to hide it.

Once more, Ysabella stopped herself from reaching out to him.

As the carriage continued to roll down the empty street, Wakefield reached for something inside his coat. When his hand came out, her eyes widened. He was holding her white mask in her hand.

He laid it down beside him without a word.

"Ah, the evidence you wanted," Ysabella said, hoping to sound nonchalant. "Did my sister send it? She ought not to have. I had wanted you to believe me by my own words, not by mere evidence." With a sigh, she looked out the window. "I wonder who helped you convince the driver to take me away in such a scandalous manner. It must be Emma."

"Ysa, will you listen to what I have to say?" his voice begged.

"That you now believe me to be Lady Weis?" she asked, snapping her eyes back at him. "Well, of course you should. You now have the mask and—"

"I realized the truth this morning after I've gone through the letters. The mask was delivered just tonight."

Realizing what his words meant, her heart swelled with relief, but then she could not simply make this easy for him. So she shrugged. "Well, she no longer matters, really."

"Of course she does," he said, peering down to catch her eyes. "She is a part of you—a small part of the whole you."

Ysabella remained silent. When she made a move to avert her eyes, he kneeled on the floor of the carriage so he was closer to her, looking up at her with pleading eyes.

"You questioned how I can love someone I barely know," he continued, tone growing desperate. "But I do know you, Ysabella. I started to the moment I caught you stealing turkey in Theobald."