Dear Lady Weis,

I am quite glad that you enjoyed your vacation with your family, though I must admit that I am utterly curious where you went as it would give me an idea who your family might be. Lord Samuel Theobald is off limits, of course, and I intend to keep my promise not to inquire. I am at the edge of my seat as I know for certain that this letter shall be delivered straight to his Buford estate and I shall have no way of finding out how it shall be delivered to you.

By the by, I did go to the hunting trip but all the while you have occupied my mind. I could have no more thoughts other than you, who you are and what you are doing at the moment.

P.S. I was not able to shoot a single animal. The Everards did have a good laugh over brandy at my expense and I have you to answer for it.

Yours,

William

*****

The man looked quite happy, but the answer he provided did not sit well with the woman who handed him the flower. "His lordship is out today, my lady," Mr. Morris said. The middle-aged man was the only face she had seen step out of the Wilburn estate for two years. Two years!

"Mr. Morris," Ysabella Everard said with a sweet, gentle smile, "if you would be so kind as to provide me with details as to where Lord Wakefield may be at the moment, I would be so thoroughly pleased and grateful."

Mr. Morris' face contorted with discomfort. "You very well know the answer to that, my lady."

Ysabella rolled her eyes. "What has he told you this time if I may ask?"

The butler looked over his shoulder, through the doorway, to the left and right, before finally leaning closer, just enough to whisper, "His lordship has given specific instructions that no female Everard, married or not, can know of his whereabouts. He threatened to kick me out."

Ysabella's mouth gaped open. "Kick you out! That is horrible, Mr. Morris! You are the best butler there is!"

The man leaned away, clearing his throat with pride. "I do agree, my lady."

Ysabella shrugged. "It is not a sin to come by every Friday, is it? And it is very well not against the law to talk to an excellent butler!"

Mr. Morris nodded his head vigorously. "I agree, my lady."

"Very well, then," Ysabella said, smiling more widely, "tell his lordship that I have personally picked that flower from our gardens. And please, Mr. Morris, dare not tell me what he does with the previous ones I have given. I am afraid it shall hurt my feelings," she said with exaggeration.

Mr. Morris solemnly nodded. "I would plant them if I could grow them, my lady. They are quite lovely."

Ysabella gave a snort and turned around. "Do tell Lord Wakefield that my flowers do not bite," she uttered as she walked away. "But I might," she added to herself with a chuckle.

"Have a great day, my lady!" the butler called after her before disappearing back into the manor.

*****

Wakefield watched Ysabella Everard walk down the street alone without a companion through the small gap of the curtains. She stopped for a few seconds, some free locks of her wavy black hair swaying in the process, to look at both sides of the street before she crossed in an unhurried fashion like she had always done every bloody Friday for the past two years since she befriended his mother.

His mother, Lady Esther Hayward, lived merely a block away from his estate. Ever since Ysabella Everard decided to pursue him, she managed to find a way into his mother's heart and eventually into her home every week for tea and on her way from there she never missed the opportunity to walk by his estate and drop a flower from the Everard gardens. Never, in the two years that the young Everard had started her weekly visits, did Wakefield take the courage to face her and personally reject them. He always believed she would grow tired of it all, but it had been two bloody years since he first thought of it. Two bloody years and the chit had not missed a single Friday and he was starting to finally lose his patience.

Sooner or later, the young girl would have to know that nothing would come out of her so-called courtship. Courtship by a lady was not done in this society and it was not definitely doing them both any good.

"My lord," Morris' voice said from behind and Wakefield turned around to see the butler walking into the room with a daisy in hand. He stared at the white flower dryly and walked back to his table. "Lady Ysabella has—"

"Throw it out," he ordered the butler knowing full well what the man would do.

The butler shook his head and laid it on his table like he did every week. "I do hate to see it go to waste, my lord," Morris replied the same words he gave a week before and the previous weeks before that. "Would you like it placed in a vase?" he added the same offer he gave last Friday and every Friday before that.

"No," Wakefield snapped, waving his hand. "Go."

Morris nodded and stiffly turned around.

"Morris," he called, stopping the butler. "What did you whisper to Lady Ysabella before she left?"

Morris cleared his throat. "I was not aware that you were watching, my lord."

"Answer the question."

"I simply told her you threatened to kick me out should I ever expose the details of your whereabouts."

He let out a loud snort. "You oaf. You were trying to get her sympathy!"

"I am merely trying to save you from the weekly peril you have to face, my lord." The butler's tone was leaning more to sarcasm than genuine concern, but Wakefield let it pass.

"Did I receive letters this morning?" he hopefully asked, changing the subject.

"Apart from that lovely flower on your desk, my lord, you did not receive anything else."

Wakefield scowled at the man. With another wave of his hand, the butler left him alone.

Wakefield threw the white flower a glance, shook his head and continued with his work, trying to force his mind to not think too much of the anticipation he felt for a letter he was expecting.

Mayhap she had been busy, he thought. He shook his head. He must truly go back to work.

He ought to finish them before he'd go to Grey's later tonight where he would drink and play cards with his friends until the wee hours and if time would allow it, visit one of his special female acquaintances before the weekend.

The Theobald party was nearly a few days away and he was not able to find a good enough reason not to be his mother's companion this year. He'd been trying to tell himself that he had been trapped for it was what it felt like, really. The old woman trapped him to coming to the weekend party like she did three years ago.

He tried to imagine what he'd likely encounter this weekend and he came to a conclusion that he would indeed need to visit one of his very willing lovers. The Theobald party would be filled with husband-hunting chits and their mamas and he better come very much sated as to avoid temptation, most especially now that he was quite certain Ysabella Everard would be in attendance.

*****

"I gather you were at Lady Hayward's estate?" Emma asked later that evening as they were preparing for bed.

Ysabella looked at her sister, merely eleven months younger than her, and one she considered her twin as most people would refer to them, and smiled. "Yes, of course. She inquired why you failed to come."

"I hope you told her I am quite busy," Emma uttered, brushing her hair.

"I did, though I believe she did not believe me."

"Why is that?" Emma asked with a frown. "I do enjoy her company."

"Mayhap because she sensed that I did not believe my own words when I said them," Ysabella carefully replied.

Her sister's frown deepened. "Why would you not believe that I was indeed busy?"

"Because you were not, Em."

Emma simply rolled her eyes. Ysabella knew her sister too well. She knew what Emma was thinking even if her mouth was closed.

"Now, tell me what you are truly thinking," she prodded.

Emma shrugged. "I was simply not in the mood to walk by Lord Wakefield's estate and witness you knock on the door and deliver a flower. I have always thought it is nonsense."

"We do grow great flowers in our gardens," Ysabella reasoned. "It is not nonsense to give a man a flower. Which law prohibits it?"

"I might just ask Cole about that, you know. He ought to make a law about it."

"And since when did you start addressing our brother-in-law, a Man of Courts, by his given name?"

"He asked me to."

"And why has he not asked me?"

"Well, I did ask him and he said it is very fine to call him Cole. I find it rather awkward to call him Lord Cole every bloody time."

"I shall ask him as well, then." Once Emma was done with her hair, she sat in front of her sister with a loud smile. "Are you not excited for the Theobald party?"

Emma shrugged. "Quite."

She gave her sister a pointed look. "You must be jesting, Em. It is the Theobald party! Everyone is excited to attend!"

"You are merely excited because Wakefield will be there this year."

"Of course. Everything starts at the Theobald's as what they say."

Emma snorted. "Ysa, if you must know, it has been nearly three years since you've met the man, two years since you have decided to seriously pursue him as what you would call it—"

"Court," she corrected.

Emma rolled her eyes. "—court him and nothing had come out of it, bad or good. Our niece Lindsay is nearly three years and yet Wakefield has not even shown his face to you whenever you deliver your flowers to his door. Soon, our niece will be old enough to even masterfully write the very words that you refuse to say: obsession and failure!"

Ysabella simply straightened her shoulders. She had heard far worse words from her sister that she could not even let them affect her anymore.

"If mother knows everything you are doing, she shall have a faint," Emma uttered. "It is a good thing you stopped that ill idea about Lady Weis. It was the most stupid thing you have done, really, if I must say. Our family has suffered enough scandals of late and even though the Everard name is strong enough for society to forget them, deceiving Lord Wakefield as Lady Weis would surely, if not entirely, put a dent on our reputation, not speaking of what it would cause his friendship with our brother Levi and the entire family."

Ysabella immediately turned away from her sister to clear her throat. She climbed out of Emma's bed to go to her desk. "As you continue to berate me, I shall spend my time writing Aurora a letter. It is high time our friend finds herself a husband." She refused to hear anything more about Lady Weis.

"I thought we both agreed to match her with Nick?" Emma asked with a yawn. "We have seen how he could not keep his eyes off her."

"Our brother may not be easily pushed as Ben and Levi, Em," she said, sitting in front of her writing desk. "We must make certain that Aurora will be very much ready to attract as much attention in the Theobald party this time. The last was a failure, as you can remember."

"Mayhap you must focus on finding yourself a husband instead."

"I have already found one, Em. He simply does not accept it just yet."

Her sister ignored her statement and slipped inside the covers. "Do turn off the lamp once you are done. You forgot to do so the last time."

"Of course," Ysabella murmured as she started writing. She wrote to Aurora a short note of which colours of gowns would suit her best for the Theobalds and offered a few of her jewelleries to go with them. Once she had sealed it, she looked over her shoulder to check on Emma. Her sister was already fast asleep.

Ysabella grabbed another paper, dipped her pen in the inkwell and began to write...

Dearest William...