Dearest Lady Weis,

I have to admit that I am not close to my brother. He and my late father have been naught but focused on my failures rather than my achievements. You might call it childish, but I have always considered my relationship with Thomas a competition rather than anything else.

Speaking of competition, I must say I do excel in sports. Have I ever written about how Thomas once fell off his horse when he was twenty? I'd wager you could master a horse better than he. He fell on a pile of dung, if you must know. The smell stayed in his character to this day.

Even though you do say very little detail about your family, I can safely assume you have a good relationship with them. You would not sound vibrant and full of life if it is not the case.

My Cook is good, yes. She does make the best pies. I wonder why you asked. Are you hungry while writing your last letter? You must know I have a smile on my face at the memory of such an unexpected question.

I shall be traveling to Wakefield by the morrow. I hope to return in Wickhurst and find your reply waiting for me.

Yours,

William

*****

Had he known that his brother Thomas, the Lord of Bertram would grace the Theobald party with his ever magnificent presence, Wakefield would have stayed in Wickhurst.

And he knew full well why his brother, merely one year older, made a surprise appearance. The recent harvest of the Wakefield estate had not been good. In fact, it was a poor year for the estate.

Thomas' presence simply meant his conceited brother was here to gloat on Wakefield's failures and in more ways than one, make a statement that would equate to, "I told you so." For it was true. He had told Wakefield, in a disguise of an advice, that planting his crops too early for the season would yield the best results. As it was his custom to not listen or take advice from his brother, Wakefield planted his crops at the exact moment he planned it.

Then the flood came through the holes and ruined almost the entire plantation just before the harvest season.

While Bertram and other plantations had already harvested theirs, Wakefield was amongst those who had very little to get with such great losses.

So when his mother announced during breakfast that Thomas was merely hours away from Theobald, Wakefield stood to his feet, excused himself and packed his bags to return to Wickhurst.

His mother, ever aware of his sons' relationship, did not make attempts to stop him or delay his departure. Assuring the woman that Thomas would bring her back to Wickhurst himself, he left for Wickhurst.

Which was better for everyone, he thought. He did not have to suffer two more ball nights with the chits and Ysabella Everard clamouring for his attention. His mother was in good health, being surrounded by friends. He, on the other hand, was missing a tumble in the bed with one of his lovers in Wickhurst. Some of his friends were probably enjoying nights at Grey's and he'd merely be happy to join them.

And there was a matter with Lady Weis, whom he believed might have already sent a reply to his previous letter. Coming home to Wickhurst was indeed the best decision.

*****

It was a great disappointed to hear the news that Lord Wakefield had decided to skip the rest of the weekend party, but the moment Ysabella learned of Thomas Hayward's arrival that same morning, she could very well understand why.

In fact, if she was not in want of his presence, she would have been the first to push Wakefield to go back to Wickhurst. Knowing how Wakefield felt toward his brother, she could not blame him for the escape.

But Ysabella knew that it was not well to hate someone simply because someone you love does. So she chose to be cordial when Thomas walked over to greet them, looking very much like his brother in built and height, but with a naturally smug look on his face.

After the short social greetings, Thomas and Nicholas took to themselves for a longer chat. Ysabella pretended to be listening to the conversation going on between her mother and her friends. Emma and Aurora were standing nearby, talking to Adam Nimrod and his acquaintances. She leaned her head to the side to hear what Thomas was saying to Nicholas.

"—was here, I believe, but he has matters of import to attend to," the man was saying, his voice lower than Wakefield's.

"Will you be accompanying your mother to Wickhurst then?"

"What choice does a man have when his own brother up and disappeared, leaving the poor woman behind?" Thomas replied before he emptied his glass of brandy. "Yes, I am afraid I have to do the task."

"Levi will be arriving in Wickhurst for a hunting party in the woods. Nicholas, Maxwell and Ralph will also be joining us, I believe, so is Wakefield."

Ysabella took a small step back, nearer her brother and Thomas. A hunting party? Why was she not aware of it?

"Is that so?"

"Yes. It has been quite some time since we last hunted what with Benedict and Levi marrying off consecutively, of course," Nicholas explained. "You can join us if you like. The more the merrier, eh?"

Thomas was already shaking his blonde head, one that was too well-groomed, a stark contrast to Wakefield's tussled one. "I am afraid that my brother's hobbies do not reflect mine, Nicholas."

Ysabella cleared her throat and pretended to be looking at the dancing couples in the dance floor when Emma threw her a knowing look. Her sister knew what she was doing and she did not care. Aurora threw her an amused look before she focused her attention back on Adam Nimrod.

She heard Nicholas' light chuckle. "You and Ben are so much alike, Thomas—boring."

Wakefield's brother smiled and it was too late for Ysabella to look away when his blue eyes found hers studying him. The laughter in his eyes turned to that of interest and if it ever morphed into something else, she did not know since she made a sharp turn to join her mother and her friends in a conversation about how to properly sew the perfect leaf on cotton.

"You simply need a needle and thread, really," she said to the group who turned to her, looking perplexed and confused. "Green would be the much preferred colour," she added in haste, cringing at her own words.

"My daughter has no talent in such domestic things," Lady Alice reasoned with her friends and they laughed. Ysabella joined in, ever mindful of Lord Bertram's attention.

*****

That night, Ysabella waited until Aurora fell asleep before she put on her robe and slipped out of the bedchamber. She could not sleep and needed something to eat.

The way to the kitchen was easier after having gone there for two nights now. She grabbed anything that fancied her. Intending to carry her plate back to the room, she paused and contemplated the sudden thought that popped in her head.

And then she turned and walked to the opposite direction, careful not to meet anyone that might still be awake. A faint sound coming from one of the gaming rooms reached her but there was little chance someone would see her for she intended to climb the stairs that was supposedly not for the guests.

Once she reached the top landing, she turned into the same corridor she and Wakefield walked into that first night in the manor. She found the door Maxine entered that night and tried the doorknob. Much to her surprise, it was unlocked. Looking at both ends of the corridor, Ysabella checked for anyone that might be a witness to her trespassing and found none.

She pushed the door open. The room was dark. Disappointment crept in.

But then she heard a sound from one corner of the empty room.

She frowned and looked around. It was indeed naught but an empty room. But why did Maxine come here if she had intended to retire for the night?

A thought came to her.

No, it cannot be.

But it can be done. She had heard of secret doors and rooms being created in many manors. Some gentlemen's clubs had them as well as far as she knew. So why could not the Theobalds have one as well?

She walked to the wall and with her plate in one hand, used her free hand to find something. She tried pushing at each panel of the wall and was about to give up, thinking how absurd she must look like, when the last panel gave in and swung open.

Ysabella nearly stumbled forward if not for her perfect balance. She was suddenly blinded by light. She gasped in surprise when she realized she had stumbled into a large bedchamber.

A giant bed was situated at one side, a large table on the opposite side, a beautiful dresser at the far end and—Maxine. She was standing in the middle of the room, looking as surprised as Ysabella.

"What are you doing here?" Maxine demanded, rushing toward her.

"Why are you dressed as a servant?" Ysabella asked, taking in the blue dress and the white apron.

Maxine looked over her shoulder.

"I am alone, I promise. I came by chance that you might wish to join me for a snack," she said, lifting the plate higher.

The woman frowned down at her food. "That is more like a luncheon for a starving traveller rather than a snack."

"Well, I like heavy snacks," she reasoned.

"You should go. You must not be seen here."

"Well, that can be easily arranged," Ysabella said, turning around to close the panel door. When she faced Maxine once more, she smiled. "Well? Would you like to join me for a snack?"

Maxine stared at her for a long time before giving a sigh. "If you are not Samuel's friend, I would throw you out." She pointed to the table. "You can eat there."

Ysabella sauntered toward the table and sat on the chair. "I take that you have a good relationship with Samuel?"

"Of course. He is my brother."

Ysabella started eating the pie. "But you choose not to be introduced to society. Why?"

Maxine's eyes flickered with irritation. "Because I do not wish for it. I rather like it here."

"You mean you like hiding yourself in this large manor."

"My life is quite different without this dratted weekend parties, if you must know."

"Oh, so you can freely go about if there are not guests!"

"Of course," Maxine said, walking over to the bed to sit. "Do be quick and finish your food."

"How old are you?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I am a curious individual."

"Four and twenty."

"Hmm," she hummed thoughtfully. "Samuel is older by four years."

"You mean our father committed a sin against his marriage even after having sired an heir," Maxine wryly retorted.

"No, I did not mean to say that," Ysabella said, brushing off the highly awkward topics. "So, would you ever answer my question? Why are you dressed as a servant?"

Maxine's face brightened with a small smile, her eyes a wicked glimmer. "I do play different roles during the weekend parties. A year ago, I did try to dress as a footman before Father caught me."

Ysabella laughed. "It must be fun."

Maxine nodded. "Two years ago, I succeeded as an old maidservant. I even helped two or three guests get dressed."

Ysabella's laughter rang around the room. "I ought to take lessons from you, then!"

"Do be quick. I wish to retire early," Maxine said instead.

She finished her pie and asked, "Do you have something to drink? I regret I forgot to bring water."

Maxine sighed and went to her feet. She walked over to the side of her bed where a glass and a pitcher of water stood. As she poured, Ysabella studied her closely. "Is dressing up a way for you to entertain yourself?"

"Somewhat, yes." She walked over to Ysabella and handed the glass.

"Have you ever tried to pretend you are one of the guests instead? So you could enjoy the parties."

Maxine shook her head. "It is too risky. They might recognize me."

"Why do you fear it so?"

The woman frowned. "I am a bastard. I'd ruin my father's name if my identity should become public."

"Has your family expressed the same fears?"

"No, they—" Maxine stopped herself and shook her head. "No, it is better that I stay hidden."

"Then what do you plan to do for the rest of your life? Surely you cannot stay hidden forever!"

"Of course I can. I love it here."

"But you have not seen the rest of the outside. Even I who is free to roam around the Town dreams of what the world aboveground is like. Do you not wonder of the same things, of what it would be like outside the Theobald estate?"

Maxine's eyes wavered. "No, not really."

"Instead of imprisoning yourself, you should start living your life without fear, dear Maxine. You ought to live."

"Do not tell me how I ought to lead my life, Ysabella Everard. I very well know how to make the most of it."

"Oh, very well, if you must say so. But should you change your mind, I tell you in advance that society could be truly brutal to those who are different, but they too are forgetful. They will feast on you for days, weeks and even months, but soon your scandal would become old and a new one would come and you shall be forgotten."

She watched Maxine consider and dismiss her words altogether. Ah, this woman was stubborn and filled with pride. It would be good to have more moments with her, really, but Ysabella knew her time in the Theobalds' would soon end.

"Would you still be here next year?"

"Where else would I be? Of course."

"I could see you then?"

Maxine hesitated. "If you insist."

"Could I send you letters?"

"If you wish it," the lady replied, "but do not expect a reply."

Ysabella smiled at the woman. "I am the queen of missives, dear. I do know how to make even the most notorious of rakes scribble a reply."

She stayed with Maxine until her plate was empty and it could have been considered the highlight of her day.

*****

True to her words, Ysabella proved the following day how effective her missives were.

The very moment Emma and Aurora walked out of the bedchamber, Ysabella scribbled a fast note that read:

Lady Gedge,

If you so wish to keep your own secret a secret, do keep THE secret a secret. Should a gossip arise, be assured that what you so hold dear shall be in the front page of the Town Herald.

Yours,

A friend

Hours later, while she watched the maid deliver the letter to the queen of all gossipmongers in Wickhurst, Ysabella smiled. The woman's face had turned white with dread.

It seemed that the bluff worked, after all. Lady Gedge, like most of everyone, did have her own secret.

"You seem entertained, Lady Ysabella,"

Ysabella's head snapped and she was surprised to see Thomas Hayward standing beside her, hands at ease behind him, eyes also fixed on Lady Gedge. "My lord," she said with a small curtsy.

"What did you send her?"

She cleared her throat. "A note. Nothing alarming."

"I see it is worse than that." He sounded amused.

"I simply reminded her that a secret is a secret." She turned and gave another curtsy. "I must get going, my lord. My mother must be looking for me."

"Your mother is merely five paces away."

Her face flushed. "As I very well know, yes, but her eyesight is failing her."

Thomas laughed. "You do know your way around lies, Lady Ysabella."

"Entertaining, is it not?" she asked, stepping away.

"Quite so, yes."

"Ah, then poor William," she said with a dramatic sigh.

He frowned. "Why so?"

"I have vowed never to lie to him. He is missing out on all of my entertaining faculties, I fear."

Thomas let out a snort. "That, he is."

"Very well, I must truly go. Do keep my secret a secret, my lord."

His blue eyes studied her, amused. "I shall."

Ysabella turned to walk to her mother, thinking all the while that Lord Bertram was not so bad at all.