I.

True Tales from The Town

Once upon a rainy afternoon, two young ladies were stuck in a cabin out in the
woods. The storm thundered outside, rattling the windows.

"This sucks. When do you think the power will come back?" murmured Valerie as she
looked into the darkness outside.
Her sister, Violet, was holding the emergency light, pacing around the cabin for
something. "Our phones are dying and we're in our grandparent's cabin in the middle
of the woods and completely alone. And oh, did I forget to mention that our
freaking friends stood us up?"
"Correction, they are your friends. Mom and dad are going to kill us if they know
we're out here alone."
"Then don't tell them. It's not like we've never been here before. What's this?"
Without looking what her sister was talking about, Valerie asked, "What's what?"
"This. This was never here before."
Valerie turned and found her sister bent over a wooden chest. "It's grandma's," she
said, rolling her eyes. "Really, you should pay more attention on details. Details
like your friends' confirmation on coming for a weekend cabin party."
Violet narrowed her eyes to slits. "No need to rub salt on the wound, sis. Come
here and help me open this."
Valerie rolled her eyes and walked to her sister. "It's locked," she pointed out.
"How come I never saw this before?"
"It is not that noticeable," Valerie said with a shrug.
"Perhaps a key is here somewhere."
Valerie was already pulling out pins from her black hair. "Good luck with that.
I'll try my luck with these."
Violet cocked her brow with doubt. "Like you know how to open a chest with those."
"Watch me try."
And Valerie, with great determination not to lose her pride in front of her own
twin sister, worked with the pins, biting on her lower lip in concentration. For a
few breathless moments, the twins hovered over the wooden chest.
And then, click.
Both looked up in surprise and laughed.
"That's just pure luck, Val."
Valerie ignored her, came to her knees and pushed the wooden chest open. Violet
pointed the beam of the emergency light unto the contents. Both their faces fell
with disappointment.
"Books?" Violet asked, already turning away. "This is going to be one, crazy,
boring day."
"Wait, wait," Valerie stopped her, pulling at her hand. "Let's see them."
Violet pointed the light at the contents once more. Valerie picked up one of the
leather-bound books on top and opened the middle part. Her eyes widened. "Vee,
they're not books."
Violet was already frowning down at the randomly opened page. "What the hell. Are
these diaries?"
"They're handwritten texts," Valerie murmured, her mind already racing with
excitement. She turned to the first page and read, "True Tales from The Town."
"And all the while I thought grandma kept a chest full of diary entries for us to
devour," Violet said, the excitement in her voice dying, but she slumped on the
floor beside Valerie anyway. "What are they then? Who wrote them?"
"It doesn't say," Valerie answered, turning to the next page. "In a land not so far
away, there lived a place that lived in the past," she started to read and she
threw Violet a look when her sister started to snort with indifference.
"Sorry. It's a freaking fairytale book written by a wannabe writer, Val."
Valerie rolled her eyes and snatched the light from Violet's hand. "Well, since
we're both stuck here, I'm going to read it."
Violet struggled for a while before she sighed with resignation. "Fine. Since we're
both so busy, anyway, why not?" Her sarcastic remark was ignored once more as
Valerie read again.
"In a land not so far away, there lived a place that lived in the past. Its
Founders called it The Town. Mayhap they had forgotten to name it properly for they
were too much in haste to put their plans into action.
One would think it was bizarre to find a hollow place belowground, expand it and
build a country in it. But centuries later today, people could not question the
ingenuity of the Founders. The Town spanned-"
"Wait, hold it right there," Violet interrupted. "The Town is located underground?"
Valerie stared at her dryly. "It's a story, Vee. It can be anywhere."
Violet shrugged and her twin continued, "The Town spanned almost half of the entire
continent in the west and no one, save a few powerful men, aboveground knew of its
existence. No one above questioned the existence of thousands of scattered giant
holes with high walls, or of the many hidden passages heavily guarded by the Town's
Passage Guards. No one questioned for no one, save the abovementioned powerful men,
aboveground knew that they stood at the very place that threatened their own
existence.
The Town was the foundation of the many cities above and their leaders would not
dare dream of the Town's destruction. A common understanding existed still today:
Those aboveground shall let The Town live their lives in silence and peace. As if
they were not there. As though they never existed."
"Wait, when was this written? Is this in our generation or what? One would think it
is like fifty years ago or something. Just look at the way it's written. I am sure
it's Jane Austen kind of time."
Valerie sighed with frustration. "I can read this alone if you want."
"I was just asking!"
"Stop interrupting!"
"Fine," Violet mouthed.
"The Townspeople lived their lives as well, most of them without knowledge of the
existence of passages that led to the world aboveground.
The people of The Town could only have a taste of the sun and the wind when they
went to the many parks located everywhere, or the woods in selected towns. Such
parks or woods had holes above them. The Townspeople could bask in the sunlight,
experience snow and rain, watch the stars and even hear faint noises from above.
But such things were the only things they knew of the world aboveground. Most dared
not dream for more because no one had a taste of them.
Mayhap a few did manage to go out through the secret and heavily guarded known
passages around The Town, but they were men and women who were privileged by fate
or misfortune and they all kept their adventures aboveground a secret. Those who
knew of the passages were forbidden by the League of Founders, a group of men who
kept the Town's secrets, to share their knowledge. The Townspeople need not be
given a reason to want more.
But there were still a few who still dared to dream of what it would be like to see
the ocean or feel the breeze. Some knew there was a way out of the Town, while some
had no idea at all. But they still dreamed to have a taste of something beyond what
the holes could offer.
Yet they were just dreams and there was life they had to live underground. They had
balls to go to, gowns to buy, callers to entertain, lands to cultivate, mines to
dig, estates to furnish and the list went on. The world aboveground was but a mere
illusion to the people below. It was a passing fancy that would cross a scullery
maid's mind from time to time, or fill the dreams of a poor stable boy in the
evenings. And when the lights were turned on all over The Town and the sunlight
would shine through the holes, the dreams were forgotten and life would come back
to haunt.
The Founders had laid the foundation, provided the holes and many systems to make
The Town livable and save in the event of natural and human threats. Buildings were
erected, water was provided and bountiful, lands were cultivated and most of all,
status was maintained.
The gentries, middle class and service people alike all had but one goal: live.
And they all lived according to how the Founders envisioned centuries ago. They
lived in a place frozen in time, a time long considered by the people aboveground a
history. Yes, one could say they were history itself."
Valerie stopped and turned to Violet, her gaze thoughtful. "Do you think this is
true? I mean, the title says it is. And it does not say anything about dragons or
elves or anything. It speaks of normal people living hundreds of feet belowground.
And things are quite possible. There are holes for ventilation and such. And if the
passages do exist, it is possible someone from below came through one and-"
"It's a story. It can be true or not."
"But-"
"I don't really care if it's true or not or how these books got into our
grandmother's chest. This is getting interesting," Violet said, taking the book
from Valerie and continued to read:
"The Townspeople may be located hundreds of feet belowground, but they do have
their own fairy tales to tell-stories of love, adventures and mysteries; of
handsome and not-so-handsome lords; of beautiful and mayhap-pretty maidens. These
are tales that could be as old as time and as old as the Town..."

II. One Everardly Afternoon

Our story would start in one of the most affluent towns in The Town: Wickhurst.

Located in the south, Wickhurst was a town that prided itself with its woods which
was rare to find anywhere in The Town. There were but three towns that had woods
and Wickhurst was among them.
But apart from its brighter lights, grander holes above parks and wooden areas, and
mining sites, Wickhurst was known for the same things as other equally successful
towns such as Willowfair in the west. Social etiquette was still given highest
import and social standing a paramount thing.
The people were generally content, but like every other towns around Town,
Wickhurst had its own share of scandals and interesting stories to tell. Yes, the
people were graceful and kind, but only a few could be as wicked as the Everards.
One could say that to be employed by one of the richest families in Wickhurst would
be an honor, most exceedingly so if the said family were the Everards.
Now, the Everards hailed not a history of rags-to-riches. They were born to it, or
rather, came down with it. Their family was among the first who came with the
Founders belowground centuries ago. So you see, they came down with their wealth
and had thus far maintained their status in The Town.
They were the first of only few families who discovered the mining sites around The
Town. Growing their wealth with precious jewels, the Everards were the best in
producing exquisite and elegant jewelries worn by many all over The Town and no one
had dared question their wealth. Everyone wanted to be friends with them and
everyone wanted to sire their heirs.
But it seemed that the present Everard line was on the brink of slow death for the
eight children seemed to not be in a hurry to bear their living mother, Lady Alice
Everard, a grandchild. And to make matters worse, the children believed that the
future of the governess was far more of import than finding a husband or a wife.
"You are both coming out this season, dears, you will no longer need Agatha."
The two youngest Everard children, Emma and Ysabella, snapped their heads at their
mother, eyes wide with horror. "But, mother!" they both chorused, aghast. "Agatha
has merely been with us for a year!" cried Emma, to which Ysabella followed with,
"She barely taught us anything thus far!"
"You've learned enough for the many years and the many governesses that came and
went. You can both do well if you don't go running around like children," their
mother said with ease and calmness as though her two daughters' latest mischief did
not cost her a carriage, its wheel and one missing horse.
Agatha simply remained silent in one corner, her lips lifting into a hidden smile.
She would not have had wanted to be called a governess for she was but a mere
servant before her former mistress, Mary Haverston from Willowfair, provided her
with tutors for a higher education.
Governesses were ladies born into a life of gentry, ladies who found a need to earn
money for some reason. She, on the other hand, was a servant who found a great need
for money. She would have loved to be called a tutor, not a governess. And she knew
the twins were very much aware of that as well. She had not given them a ton of
lessons on proper manners or decorum. She never scolded them on how to use the
different forks or knives on the table for she knew they were better at it than
her. But she was very knowledgeable of many things such as arithmetic and science,
but unfortunately, the twins had no interest in them although they had great
potential.
Emma and Ysabella Everard were not really twins. They were born merely nine months
apart with Emma as the youngest. Lady Alice had feared that the youngest of the
Everard children would die when she came out two months shorter than expected. But
alas, the ever adventurous, witty and loud Emma lived and started causing havoc
with her elder sister, Ysabella. Everyone referred to them as twins and they seemed
not to mind. They did look alike save for a few distinct differences in their
features. Both had black hair and emerald eyes as all Everard children, but Emma
had a slimmer face while Ysabella's was a bit fuller around the edges.
"The two of you need to find a husband on your second or third season," Lady
Alice's voice was saying, drawing Agatha's attention back inside the large Everard
parlor.
"She needs to find a husband first," Ysabella pointedly said, waving her hand at
their eldest sister, Margaret, who sitting with a book in hand. Margaret, like
Agatha, was past the marrying age at seven and twenty. The lady's beauty was far
better than anyone Agatha had ever seen-black hair and emerald eyes consistent with
all Everard children, delicate nose, well-shaped brows and radiant skin not so
often seen around The Town-that she often had to wonder whether Margaret did not
just wish to marry at all. The lady could have had anyone she wished to marry.
Surely, there was someone who would want to be part of the Everards?
"I don't think I am-" Margaret started to say but Emma interjected with, "We need
not marry, really," rolling her eyes. "We do have the brothers to sire as many
heirs for the titles."
"Well, at least not yet," Ysabella voiced, standing to her feet. "Which is why
there is still need for Agatha."
"She can be my lady companion," Margaret suggested, her eyes twinkling at the idea.
"Agatha, would you like to be my companion?"
"But she will be our companion if she opts to be a companion!" Emma cried out.
"Emma, your voice," Agatha said, breaking her silence. "And I do agree that my
service as a governess is no longer required for the both of you," she addressed
the twins.
"But, Agatha!" they both whined.
"You are both seventeen and are to come out this season, ladies," Agatha told them
in a very calm voice. "I don't think there is a place for me here any longer."
"But you can be my companion as I have said," Margaret said. "I will need a
companion."
Lady Alice sighed loudly. "I believe we have gone completely off topic. I believe
we were talking about the eligible bachelors in Wickhurst before these two decided
to veer the conversation yet again." She narrowed her eyes at the twins. "And you
will need a husband."
"You mean only one husband? And we shall share him? Mother, I cannot believe you
would think of such thing! Surely there are enough gentlemen around The Town!"
Ysabella cried out in mock horror.
"That is not what I meant!" Lady Alice's shrilling voice made everyone wince. She
fanned herself with her hand. "You children are killing me."
"I believe murder is the least of our-"
"Emma," Agatha warned, shaking her head. The girl closed her mouth and huffed. "I
may opt to find a different employer when the season starts."
"Agatha!" everyone except Lady Alice cried.
"What is the matter?" a voice asked from the doorway. All black heads turned,
including Agatha's auburn one. "What?" The eldest of all the eight Everard
children, Benedict, scanned the room with his piercing green eyes, an eyebrow
cocked high in question. His eyes hovered over Agatha for but a mere second,
acknowledging and dismissing her presence all the same, before he veered his eyes
back to his mother and sisters.
"We were talking about why you are still unmarried," Margaret lied. "Because you
ought to be married, you know."
"But I am to be married," Benedict uttered, his voice serious, his rectangular jaw
hard as it always seemed to be and the white scars on his face almost translucent
under the light of the parlor. His thick brows were slightly raised as though he
was expecting his family to laugh at his statement but none did that for everyone
might still be on the process of considering whether he was trying to jest or not.
And Agatha was among them. For the nearly two years she had been with the Everards,
she could count in her fingers still the moments when Benedict had tried to be
comical. And it was with great regret to say that none of those moments caused
anyone to react with spontaneous laughter or amusement. As the eldest of the
Everards, and as the master of the mansion, Benedict Everard was regarded by almost
everyone to be too boring and dry.
His scarred face, which was always set too hard, did not aid on how people
perceived him, nor did he try to change their opinions for he was not one who would
find many words to say to anyone. In fact, Agatha never had a reason to talk to him
unless there was a chance. She knew her rightful place in the household and talking
to the lord of the manor was not one of them. And it was not as though Benedict
Everard had tried to engage her in a conversation. She could, again, count in her
fingers and toes the moments when he had turned his head at her and asked her a
direct question. And all those questions were always about his youngest sisters. He
did not know anything about her and she had somehow led others to believe that she
did not wish to find out more about him than what she already knew even though
everything about Benedict Everard was curious indeed. Questions that ranged from
how he acquired his scars, a topic never discussed within the household, to how he
could spend an entire day without talking were enough to keep her awake in some
nights.
Mayhap one of the many reasons Benedict Everard would never be found charming at
all was the fact that he never tried to be. He was domineering in many ways. He
rarely raised his voice, but his words could be as piercing as his eyes most days.
He rarely tolerated incompetence, foolishness and ignorance. He would be irked when
one would not know what he was talking about.
He was the only one in his family who took matters too seriously, really. His other
brothers were no different from the others. And it was only Benedict Everard whom
his family feared, his mother most definitely included. A simple gesture of his
hand could silence everyone and one glance could turn the twins mute for hours.
So mayhap that was why he was never considered a charmer as his other brothers
were. After all, he had been the Lord of Devonshire for too long that it may have
rendered him as hard as the jewels they mined. He had taken all responsibility when
their father passed away and he took it too seriously, Agatha had heard Lady Alice
say too many times before.
"What do you mean you are getting married?" It was Lady Alice who finally took the
risk for no one was yet ready to force a laugh if Benedict did plan to be funny.
Agatha watched Benedict's face, desperately searching for any hint of what he was
thinking or feeling but failed.
"I am. To Lady Frances Highmore." It must have been the way he so nonchalantly said
it that made it quite hard for everyone to believe. But it must also be the name he
mentioned that made everyone gasp in surprise.
Agatha saw Benedict's face twitch, a sign that he was smiling. "That is all," he
uttered at the gaping ladies, and with his erect back and broad shoulders, turned
away.
Before anyone could blink and gather their thoughts back, Benedict Everard was
gone.
"Did we all hear the same thing?" It was Emma who finally broke the silence. "Ysa,
tell me what you heard Benedict say."
"He is going to be married to Frances Highmore."
Agatha did not realize she had gone stiff until all hell broke loose.
"Oh, goodness gracious! It must be true! It must be true!" Lady Alice came to her
feet and sauntered out of the parlor, followed by Margaret and then the twins.
"Benedict!" Lady Alice voice faded as she and her daughters chased after the lord
of the manor.
Agatha was left alone in the parlor and she forced her practiced smile while the
gleeful voices of the Everard ladies suddenly erupted from somewhere above,
probably Benedict's study, as they all rejoiced at the news.
Benedict Everard, Lord of Devonshire, was finally getting married. He had always
opposed to the idea and no one had dared force him into it.
But now he is getting married, Agatha thought.
"A Highmore! A Highmore!" Lady Alice was shouting from somewhere.
"But they're blondes!" Emma or Ysabella whined. "And she's too thin!" Emma or
Ysabella added.
The Highmores had always kept to themselves and at one point Lord Highmore had
stated that he could never associate their name with the wicked Everards. But
somehow Benedict had changed his mind. Somehow, something in him convinced the
Highmores to tie themselves with the Everards.
And now he managed to find a bride that could give their family what they had
always wanted-the Highmore ruby mines.
Agatha swallowed the tears and cleared her throat. She blinked a few times before
she attempted to stand up but found that she couldn't.
Her beast was getting married.
He finally found someone she could never contend with.
Agatha closed her eyes and took a deep breath, fighting the tears.
She ought not to have fallen in love with Benedict Everard in the first place.

III. A Trip to Madam Vernice

Lady Frances Highmore and her family were welcomed by the Everards the very next
evening. And the very next morning, she was the topic over breakfast.

"I like her nose. It is straight," Ysabella said with a smile and Benedict knew his
sisters were just starting. He decided to hear what they had to say about his
future wife. "Her lips are-"
"-too thin," Emma finished. "I did not say I do not like them, of course,
Benedict," she hastily added.
"Her hair is almost white," Ysabella continued carefully.
"She ought to eat more, I am afraid," Emma provided further, her voice growing
confident when Benedict did not utter a word and simply continued eating.
"But, of course, she is rather nice. Very soft-spoken-very proper," Ysabella added
and from the corner of his eye he saw her gauging his reaction. "But that can never
mean she is nice. We do not know her enough and there is always room for doubt-
ouch!"
Benedict swallowed his food to hide his amusement as Ysabella glared across the
table at Emma.
"You kicked me. Why did you kick me!"
Emma threw Ysabella a meaningful look.
A cough came from the corner of the dining room and the two young ladies
straightened in their seats and continued eating. Agatha, of course, he thought.
He decided to let Ysabella's comment slip and asked, "Where are mother and
Margaret?"
"They went out to call on Lady Highmore-the mother, of course. Mother wanted to
discuss the wedding," Emma answered.
"And why was not I informed of this beforehand?"
His younger sisters lifted their shoulders in a shrug. He had held off the
announcement of his engagement with Frances Highmore for this very reason. His
mother was not even sparing him a moment to doubt his decision.
"Please excuse me, I will need a few moments to prepare before our lessons," Agatha
spoke from her customary corner and ambled out of the dining room while Ysabella
and Emma's groaned.
Benedict stared at the governess' stiff posture as she exited the room. Her auburn
hair which was tightly and neatly tied at her nape barely moved and he had always
wondered how the woman managed to do so when her sisters could barely keep their
manes in proper order.
As Benedict's thoughts started to wander away from the governess and back to his
forthcoming wedding, Ysabella turned to him and asked, "Benedict, may I ask you a
question?"
He cocked an eyebrow. The twins asking a question ought to be treaded carefully.
"Need you ask for permission?"
His sister eyed him dryly. "I am trying to practice proper decorum, so yes, of
course, I ought to ask."
He gave a slight bow. "Of course, you may, my lady." He matched his sister with a
wry tone.
"Thank you, kind sir," Ysabella said with a giggle. "I would like to ask if a
governess can marry a lord?"
Benedict frowned. "That would depend." When his sisters leaned closer, waiting for
a more elaborate answer, Benedict sighed and tried to explain. "The law does not
prohibit marriage between an unmarried man and a woman. But society has standards
most of us follow."
"So, can a governess marry a lord?" Emma impatiently asked.
"If she is titled, yes, she could without causing society to raise its brows with
disapproval."
"Then can she marry a gentleman if she is untitled?"
"Yes."
Ysabella and Emma snapped their heads to face each other and giggled with
excitement. Benedict frowned and studied them thoughtfully. "Are you two planning
to find your governess a husband?"
They both coughed and he knew it would not stop until one or both of them had
thought of the best reply. It was Emma who finally swallowed and looked him in the
eye. "Yes, of course. She ought to be married as well as anyone else."
His eyes narrowed to slits and he saw the twins started to grow anxious. "Are you
doing this because she is leaving?"
They blinked and shook their heads. He cocked one brow higher. The direction of
their heads changed and they nodded. "She ought to be married. She cannot spend her
entire life being a governess, can she?" asked Ysabella.
Agatha Blair wearing a white wedding gown and walking down the aisle was a picture
he could not entirely put to mind anytime soon. "But it is not your place to decide
what she does with her life."
"We are not going to force her to marry anyone, Benedict," Emma stated as though
the situation had reversed and he was the one being reprimanded. "We merely wish
for her to have a chance in a life far different from what she has thus far."
"You mean you merely wish to do something you always do-meddle into people's
affairs."
"Of course, not!" both young ladies cried out. "We are not meddling into yours,"
Ysabella pointed out as Emma said, "We do not even tell you we do not like your
fiancée!" to which Benedict finally had enough and he fixed his sisters a stern
look and they bit their lips in silence.
Frances Highmore was a respectable and proper lady, one of the reasons why he asked
for her hand in marriage. His sisters ought to know their place. "I do not want to
hear anything bad said against my future wife, Emma, Ysabella." He narrowed his
eyes at them, making them see that he was utterly serious. "And if I happen to know
that the two of you have yet again come up with something devious, you shall be
transported to Devonshire at once and you will miss the entire season."
Their eyes widened with horror.
Satisfied that he had made himself clear, Benedict ordered, "Finish your breakfast
and I do not want to hear a single word from either of you. Someone here, other
than your governess, ought to put you in your place. You are both seventeen and
ought to act and think like ladies and I demand that you start today." While saying
those words, he had come to realize that his sisters were indeed ladies and could
soon very well be receiving offers for marriage. That, of course, would be another
mischance he'd have to face.
As the ladies resumed their breakfast in a highly exaggerated proper manner,
Benedict had to wonder why the two chits were too engrossed in matchmaking. The
first of their many projects was the cook who had fancied their previous butler.
The two married after a year. That was followed by two more servants marrying two
of their footmen. Their fourth and their biggest accomplishment was their fifth
governess, Lady Belinda Carrington, now Haverston. That, too, was a success after
Ysabella and Emma wrote McKenzie Haverston a letter telling him that their
governess was marrying their eldest brother-him-and pushed the poor man to travel
for two straight days on horseback to claim his lady. And now they were planning to
marry off their sixth governess to a gentleman.
He never doubted his sisters until now for there was high chance they might not
succeed with this one. Agatha Blair was not only a servant prior to her education,
but she was too boring in his opinion. Not only that, but her observant eyes had
always bothered him. She always looked at things as though she was dissecting each
part and she rarely spoke what was on her mind. She was too stiff and never carried
herself in such a way that would spark interest in anyone. No hidden mischief in
her eyes, no hint that she could be courageous or even naughty. Her auburn hair was
never a bit askew and her plain black and grey dresses were always dull to the
eyes. She could very well stand against a wall and one would think she was one of
the stone statues.
In the years the woman had been with them, she had never spoken to him about
anything of interest. It had always been about the twins. In fact, he could not
recall a single moment when she had spoken more than three sentences at once in his
presence.
Of course, he could be the main reason for he knew no one had ever been in his
presence without ever feeling anxious or even fearful. But there were also times
when he observed the governess without her knowledge and she had always been the
same with the other members of his family even without his presence.
Benedict had long concluded that Agatha Blair was an uninteresting woman despite
the fact that all the females in the household, the twins most especially, liked
her. She never spoke when not spoken to, save for the moments when she had to
remind the twins of their behaviour, and she never expressed any opinions on any
topic where she could have improved his interest. A governess had more privileges
than the other staff and the past governesses the twins had greatly took that to
their advantage, but never Agatha Blair.
Lady Belinda Carrington was gentry even before she married Haverston. And she was
also quite a beauty. Even his mother had tried to suggest he marry the woman, to
which both he and Belinda had strongly disagreed. Haverston, like any men, had many
reasons to like Lady Belinda. But Agatha Blair-he was quite doubtful anyone could
take interest.
However the twins could manage to find her a husband would be quite interesting. He
may not express it to the twins, but he was looking forward to their greatest
challenge thus far. And he'd be the first to celebrate their first foreseeable
failure.
*****
Agatha never found a reason to display her previous lack of manners to any of the
Everards. She had been a servant back then and she had always been too wise and
outspoken for her own good. The Haverstons knew that very well and in fact, it was
them who advised her to practice being a lady. And she quite liked it once she
mastered the manners proper ladies ought to adapt.
She could easily forget a part of her past by being the prim and proper governess
for Emma and Ysabella. She managed to get the Everard's approval and high opinion
when she presented herself in such a manner nearly two years past.
It was Mary Haverston who gave her a very good referral when the Everards had asked
for Belinda's help to find a governess of the twins. And Agatha would never mar
Mary Haverston's good name by being the servant Agatha. She was a governess now and
if Lady Alice could give her a good referral, she could easily find a new
employment.
And she wanted it to be soon. Mayhap before the wedding, she thought as she gazed
at herself in the mirror. She studied her face and practiced a small smile, stared
at her brown topaz eyes until she scoffed at her silliness.
She'd never be as pretty as any lady, most particularly Lady Frances Highmore. The
blonde woman was perfect and she was gentry. She was born with riches and her
family owned the only two ruby mines that the Everards had always wanted.
What could she have been thinking, falling in love with Benedict Everard, Lord of
Devonshire? He was not handsome. He was boring and domineering. He could be a beast
in rare occasions. So why did she find herself falling in love with him?
She stared at her long nose and her oval face, a bitter smile tugging at her lips.
Benedict Everard may not be handsome to many, but his eyes had always captivated
her that she forgot about his scars. He may be boring, but Agatha knew he had more
in him than most people thought. He may not be charming like his brothers, but he
was responsible and calm whenever a problem was at hand. His family may fear him,
but they loved him all the same. His words may sting whenever he was irked, but his
hands were never heavy. Emma and Ysabella never took a beating from their brother.
He was a beast because of his scars and his piercing eyes, but Agatha saw so much
in him.
That's why she fell in love.
And that's why she had to leave.
He was too good for anyone, even the beautiful and graceful Lady Frances Highmore.
She saw how the lady's eyes would always travel to Benedict's scars. Did they
bother her? Was that repulse Agatha saw cross her eyes too many times the night
before?
Agatha shook her head. No, she could not think of such things. Lady Frances had
been good, even asked for her name, last night. She deserved a man such as
Benedict. Although Agatha was still inclined to think he was too good for anyone.
"Oh my God, I am insane," she said under her breath. Benedict Everard was no god
and ought not be praised that much. He was but a mere man and he could very well do
what he pleased. And whatever he'd do, she would never be a part of it.
"Agatha!" Emma's voice startled her, causing her to jump to her feet and face the
door. The twins, as always, never learned that knocking would always be proper when
faced with a door. "Respite! Respite!"
Only Agatha and the twins knew what a respite meant. It was her who introduced it
to them on her first day as their governess. A respite meant that the three of them
could drop all formalities and proper decorum in private. But it should only be
done twice in a day and ought to only last for half an hour.
"What is it?" she asked, alarmed.
"We ought to find dresses."
Her brows knitted in a frown. "I don't think I am the right person to-"
"Of course, we are not going to ask for your fashionable sense," Ysabella said,
stepping into her room. "But you ought to come with us because you ought to have
dresses for yourself."
Her eyes widened with surprise. "Me? Why would I need dresses?"
"You shall be our companion to the balls this season; of course you would need a
dress. Come, we must hurry! It is rare for Benedict to say yes to take us
shopping!" Emma went and took her hand. The young lady pulled her to the door.
"But-"
"We will not allow our chaperone to be dressed in dull gowns, Agatha," Ysabella was
saying, pushing her out of the door. "Not when this is our first season!"
*****
Benedict could not ken how his sisters managed to convince him to take them
shopping for gowns even until when he was sitting across the pair in the carriage
with Agatha quiet and stiff beside him.
"I want a velvet gown, and a yellow one and-"
"You will look old in velvet, Ysa," said Emma. The two had been discussing the
colors of their gowns since they had climbed into the carriage.
Benedict closed his eyes, praying he could do the same with his ears. Truly, this
task ought to be done by his mother and Margaret. But the two had not come home
since they went to Highmore estate that morning. What else could there be about a
wedding that it had to take them almost the entire morning to discuss?
When they had finally arrived at Vernice's Couture Shop, the twins bounded out
with excitement. Benedict had almost forgotten Agatha was with them that he almost-
almost-closed the carriage door at her face.
"My apologies," he murmured, stepping aside to let her pass. He held out a hand to
help her but she did not take it and merely threw him a disapproving look before
she scurried behind the girls. She had never thrown him such look before. Benedict
ignored her intentional ignorance to his gentlemanly attempt and followed the
ladies inside the shop with heavy footsteps.
There was only but one settee inside and he sat down beside Agatha while the twins
talked with Vernice.
"My Lord! I did not know you accompanied your sisters today," Vernice said with a
big smile. She was a big woman and it took her merely three steps to approach him
with an awkward curtsy. Benedict merely nodded. "I am very delighted that these
young pretty ladies will soon be out for the season."
Again, Benedict merely nodded.
"He does not have great opinions on seasons, Vernice," Emma uttered with a laugh
from behind.
Vernice turned around to face his sisters. "But you do, don't you?"
"Well, not to hunt for a husband, but we do love the idea of a season. We have
always been curious!" Ysabella offered with great excitement in her voice that she
jumped with it.
"You will have a lot more of work to do once the season starts," he found himself
saying to Agatha.
It took her a while before she realized that Vernice and his sisters were too
preoccupied talking about gowns and fittings and that he was talking to her. "I am
afraid I will have to endure for a little while, my Lord," she finally uttered in a
much modulated tone.
Benedict could not think of another word to say and he must admit that the shop was
rather small to do anything else and so he asked, "I have been informed that you
are opting to find a different employment."
"Yes, you were informed correctly, my Lord."
"But Margaret wants to have a lady companion and she believes you are the best
candidate. Why would you want to leave?"
She did not answer for a long time that he had to turn his head to look at her. And
found that she was already staring at him. And as though caught doing something she
ought not to be doing, Agatha swung her restless gaze away from him. She had topaz
eyes and he was quite startled to find out they were quite...stunning. He erased
the thought from his mind and was about to say something when his gaze dipped down
to her mouth. They were full and naturally pink. Although her nose was a bit long
and the base wide, somehow Benedict found that it complimented her entire feature.
Be blinked and realized that she had started speaking, answering his question. "I
do not wish for my knowledge to go stagnant as a paid companion."
He let out a curt, curious sound, somehow surprised by her answer. There had been
no question that a governess ought to know many subjects so why was he surprised
that Agatha Blair could be in love with learning?
Benedict did not say anything further and contented himself with a moment of peace
before his sisters tried different gowns and asked for his opinion. It was one
thing to provide an honest opinion on a woman who was your mistress and it was
another to do so to one's sisters.
Good. Better. It suits you. No. Should it not be the other way around?
Those were the words he offered to his disappointed sisters, but Vernice knew
better, saying, "My sister and I would not receive such great reputation if we
cannot provide the best, darlings, so please be assured that the gowns that shall
be delivered to you by the morrow and the following days after are of top quality."
And when Benedict thought that they were finally going back to the manor, his
sisters faced Agatha and said, "It is your turn."
He snapped his head in surprise to look at Agatha. She had gone crimson, most
definitely embarrassed that everyone's attention was directed at her.
Ysabella made a tsk-ing sound and came to tug Agatha by the hand to force her to
stand before Vernice. The large modiste stared at Agatha with curious eyes and
Benedict watched with more interest than he did with his sisters.
"You definitely need more gowns than this grey one," Vernice said.
"She has a wardrobe filled with grey and black and white. Nothing else," Emma
informed the modiste.
"She is our governess and will be our lady companion for the balls. She ought to
have new gowns," Ysabella insisted. "Benedict shall pay for them, of course."
"I will?"
"Yes!" his sisters chorused.
And when he saw Agatha open her mouth to protest, Benedict immediately said, "Very
well."
His sisters jumped with glee and gave Vernice their own opinions about what to do
and what colors to use. Agatha merely stood there with naught to say and Benedict
watched her unease all throughout the entire agonizing task.
When Vernice pushed a yellow gown at her direction for her to fit and see if it
would look good on her, Agatha said, "I trust your great talent, Madam Vernice, I
don't-"
"Agatha!" Ysabella and Emma whined.
Agatha stared at her two wards, her expression a mixture of desperation,
frustration and determination. "One hour of arithmetic."
"Fine."
"And another on science."
"Fine."
Benedict saw Agatha purse her lips and finally nodded with a sigh. She was gone for
a long time and they could hear Vernice almost yell an order that she let down her
hair. "That is better, don't you think?" they heard Vernice ask.
"But-"
"Go out then and let them see," Vernice ordered.
Emma and Ysabella straightened beside Benedict, excited to see their governess.
Benedict's brow had cocked with anticipation and doubt as well, but he hid them by
crossing his arms over his chest. A great part of him wanted to shout for the woman
to hurry along so they could go back to the manor and he could continue with his
work. But a small part wanted to see her.
And as though she heard his thoughts, Agatha Blair stepped out from behind the
fitting partition clad in yellow gown.
The twins gasped in unison.
Benedict's heart stopped.

IV. Spectacles

"I do not think this is proper," he heard Agatha say but he could not find the
words to contradict her statement. If he were not rendered speechless as the twins
were also obviously were, he would have said that she was...
Bloody hell, he could not even find the right words.
She was...
Was exquisite the right term he was looking for? But it seemed lacking to what was
before him.
The mere fact that she had the richest auburn waves he had ever laid eyes on was
enough to explain his lack for words. It was almost criminal that she had tied her
hair all this time. It changed her entire feature and Benedict almost wanted to run
his fingers through the strands to discover if they were as soft as they looked.
His tore his eyes from her hair and travelled down. His jaw clenched and his arms
tightened over his chest even more upon seeing the creamy skin that covered her
shoulders. The yellow gown revealed enough skin that would certainly make any man
imagine many things. And before he himself could divulge into such stimulating
endeavour, Benedict's eyes hovered back to her face.
And his gaze locked on hers.
She was looking at him. Not the twins, not Vernice who was smiling with contentment
beside her. Him. She was looking at him as though she wanted to know what he was
thinking. His eyes were dissecting his reaction like they always did with other
things before.
He, on the other hand, believed that Agatha Blair most definitely would not wish to
know what he was thinking. His mind had already raced to laces, cushions and
mattresses in a matter of seconds the moment his eyes locked with her topaz globes,
and all the while he did not realize he had been holding his breath.
"Agatha! You look marvellous!" Emma or Ysabella cried out. Benedict did not really
care who he heard. Drat it, he would not have cared if his own fiancée was talking
to him for the rest of his senses were rendered stunned at the sight of the
governess.
Where in the bloody tarnation did she hide all that for nearly two bloody years?
Finally, Agatha tore her eyes away from his and faced the twins, a look of wary on
her face. "I don't think it is necessary that I wear a gown such as this. I will
merely be a chaperone for-"
"We will buy you a dozen more if we have to!" Ysabella uttered, gawking at Agatha.
"She looks amazing, does she not? Benedict?"
He also knew his name was mentioned but he was still struggling to regain his
sense. Emma elbowed him and sternly asked, "Doesn't she look amazing?" His sister
may be thinking that he did not like what he saw.
Agatha was getting more uncomfortable and it was apparent in her eyes when she
looked back at him. He cleared his throat and said, "I do not honestly know how to
judge a gown, but you do look better, Miss Blair."
*****
Better?
Ha! And all the while she was hoping he'd say anything close to what the twins had
cried out.
Before Benedict could see the flush of what seemed to be that of anger rise to her
cheeks, Agatha whirled around and uttered, "Can I have my dress back now?" she
asked Vernice.
"You most definitely need that gown. Will you be able to make the right alterations
before the morrow, Vernice?" Ysabella asked.
"Of course, darling. Anything for the Everards and their friends-and governess."
Agatha offered the modiste a forced smile and walked back behind the partition.
As she dressed, she could not help but think of Benedict's reaction when he saw
her. He did not provide such a transparent one, as he always did. But better was
not the word she was expecting. Yet, what was she bloody expecting?
She scolded herself for even wondering about such things. Of course, he did not
mind how she looked in a gown so long as it was within the standards. For all she
knew, he was itching to get out of this place and have this over with.
With that in mind, Agatha quickly dressed back into her grey dress. Her hair, on
the other hand, would require more time to fix so she simply tied it behind her
neck just to get it out of the way.
When she reappeared the twins had an unwavering smile on their faces, their eyes
dreamy. They were up to something, she knew it. But what? What could these two
vixens be up to now?
Benedict, on the other hand, was wearing a curious look on his face when she made
the mistake of anchoring her attention to him, a habit she had developed over
almost two years.
"We ought to go home," she told him for it would have already been too late to
pretend that her gaze merely passed him by.
He gave a curt nod and turned to Vernice, giving the modiste another nod and walked
out of the shop.
"You will look spectacular on our first season," Ysabella whispered with excitement
as they followed Benedict out the door.
He was already waiting for them, holding the carriage door open. Agatha waited for
the twins to climb inside and as she did, she assessed their surrounding while
keeping in mind not to look at Benedict.
"Miss Blair?" he asked, finally stealing her attention back to him. His right brow
was cocked high in question and she blinked.
"Yes?"
"Would you like to go home with us?"
Agatha's brows furrowed into a frown. "You know I would." She did not mean to snap
at him, really. Reprimanding herself in her head, she blinked and followed her
statement with a gentle and composed voice, saying, "You know I would, my Lord."
"Then would you move your feet and climb inside?"
She felt her face heat up when she realized what he meant. The twins had already
settled inside and were waiting for her. She cleared her throat and lifted her
chin. "Of course, my Lord."
Not daring to look at him, Agatha climbed inside the carriage and focused her
attention on the twins' current conversation about the upcoming ball.
She had never been to a ball in her life. Like them, it would also be her first.
But you will not be there as a lady. You are but a mere servant, she reminded
herself.
But then, she'd be a servant in a very pretty yellow gown.
*****
Benedict was looking for his mother and Margaret.
Their butler, Jefferson, had not yet made an announcement of their return. An hour
after his third inquiry to the butler, he decided to look for the pair himself.
Mayhap they had returned and no one had noticed. It was not the first time that the
staff missed any of the Everard's departure or return.
He set out to find the twins first and found them in their study, doing their
promised hours to Agatha.
"Your eyesight is poor, Agatha," Ysabella was saying indignantly.
"It is Miss Agatha for you whenever we are inside the schoolroom, Ysabella," Agatha
was saying, her voice sterner than ever. Benedict stopped just outside the doorway.
He had always been curious as to how his sisters faired inside the schoolroom. "And
my eyesight does not have a problem."
"Of course, it does, Miss Agatha," Emma chirped. "You're always reading in the
dark, always writing your letters with but a mere candle, and your handwriting had
gotten worse since we first met."
"I do not think you are-"
"But you've been reading our words incorrectly," Ysabella insisted. "Look here. I
wrote physics and you read it as physical which is, in my opinion, not entirely
relevant to my statement."
"Yesterday, you read Mr. Jones as Mr. Jane," Emma added.
"That is because you write your A's wrongly, Emma," Agatha retorted. "And I
apologize, Ysabella. You are right. It is physics. I must have been-"
"Having poor eyesight of late," Ysabella finished.
"And Mr. Jones is not a topic for the schoolroom, Emma," Agatha added. "How many
times do I have to tell you, ladies, he is but a myth?"
"But he could be real," Emma whined. "He could have really come down through a hole
from aboveground."
"And I believe he married a fair maiden from Bevelshire."
"No, he did not, Ysabella. He is a myth."
"And you hate myths."
"I like facts better."
"You sound like Lady Belinda. She had always insisted that the truth is very
valuable."
"She is correct."
Benedict shook his head and walked away from the schoolroom. Did the governess
realize that his cunning sisters had already changed the topic entirely? He ought
to talk to her about that.
But why? She was soon leaving with no intention of staying as Margaret's companion.
*****
Yet, an hour later, after he was informed that his mother and Margaret had sent a
note informing him that they were to spend the entire afternoon with the Highmores
and he found that he had naught to do until supper time, he called for the
governess in his library.
"You asked for me, my Lord?" her gentle voice asked from the doorway. He almost
jumped in surprise. The woman surely knew how to be quiet. No wonder he had often
neglected her presence in any room in the manor.
He cleared his throat. "Yes. I do have some concerns I wish to discuss."
He saw her forehead crinkle in a worried look as she walked closer. She had left
the door ajar behind her, letting him know that it was nearly not proper that they
were alone in the same room.
"You ought to have a pair of spectacles for your eyes."
He could not believe the words that came from his mouth. Had he not intended to
remind her of the twins' tendency to be manipulative? Had he not intended to tell
her that she was their next victim in matchmaking?
By the surprised look on her face, he knew he had said the wrong thing. "How did
you come up with such information, my Lord?" she asked.
Bloody hell. Benedict cleared his throat. "Someone informed me."
"My eyesight is-"
"I will not tolerate the fact that my sisters' tutor is teaching them different
subjects that could very well turn out to be wrong."
"I know my subjects very well, my Lord." Her voice raised a notch higher, one he
had never heard before.
He nodded. "I do not doubt that you do, but I doubt that your eyesight may have
been in the way."
"But-"
Benedict could not bear a long discussion so he came to his feet and said, "It
would not have come to my attention if it is not of any concern. Get ready."
"I beg your pardon, my Lord?"
"We are going to get you a pair of spectacles."
"But, my Lord, I do not-"
"I have no time for tedious arguments, Miss Blair," he interjected wryly. For a
mere second he saw a hint of something close to anger flash before her eyes. Again,
it was the first.
"I can procure one on my own by the morrow-"
"Today, Miss Blair," he said, cutting her statement. He grabbed his coat and put it
on. "Call for the carriage."
When she simply stood there motionless, he blew out a frustrated breath. "Now, Miss
Blair."
She snapped and briskly walked to the door. "I don't need spectacles and I am not a
butler," he heard her mutter as she passed by him.
Following her outside, he could not help but wonder why he was witnessing a series
of 'firsts' where Agatha Blair was concerned.
Surely, he ought to have noticed at least one of them in the past.
*****
Mr. Sinnett was a tiny man with very keen eyes. And many demands. He would not
allow anyone, even ladies, to walk into his shop without any man's company.
Benedict was fully aware of this, thus he did the honor of taking his sisters'
governess to the man himself.
Many had commented on this rather odd preference. Mayhap it had something to do
with the fact that he could not directly talk to them. No matter, everyone was left
with no choice for Mr. Sinnett was the only man who could provide the best
spectacles in Wickhurst. The next possible choice was in Willowfair. And so people
had to escort their wives and daughters, or for some, bring their footmen into the
shop with them, to get their spectacles.
And such happened that very afternoon. Benedict escorted Agatha into the shop after
a short and very silent drive. He had made sure that the twins were in their
bedchambers before they left earlier.
The man immediately set out different spectacles for the lady, all lined with gold
or silver rims.
"I could not possibly pay for one at this very moment, my Lord," Agatha uttered,
looking down at the array of glasses before her.
"It shall be deducted out of your pay."
"The more reason why I would not wish to have one. My Lord," she snapped back,
saying the last two words as though she had purposefully forgotten to address him
properly.
"Then they shall not come out of your pay," he said with irritation, turning to Mr.
Sinnett. "Give us the pair that would last for quite a long time. It seems that my
companion would not procure another until she goes blind."
He heard Agatha scoff beside him but she did not say anything.
"I have just the thing for the beautiful lady, my Lord," Mr. Sinnett, who had not
stolen Agatha a glance from the moment they arrived, said. He stepped down from his
wooden podium behind the counter and disappeared for a while. When he came back, he
was holding a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles. He handed them to Benedict, his eyes
averting Agatha. It was as though she was not there at all.
Slightly irked, Benedict took the spectacles from the man and set it down before
Agatha. "Try it on."
She did not move.
"Miss Blair, put it on."
"My Lord, I don't-"
He snatched the spectacles from the counter with one hand and pulled her by the arm
with the other so she faced him. Without much thought, Benedict said, his voice
filled with warning, "You will put these on, Miss Blair, so we can bloody go back
home."
Her full lips pursed. Stubborn woman!
Again, without much thought, Benedict forced the spectacles on her before she could
turn away in protest. "Don't dare move or you'll break them," he warned, slipping
the temples of the spectacles over her ears in one smooth motion. She had her eyes
tightly closed in her attempt to disobey. "Open your eyes," he ordered.
"I am afraid my eyes will be ruined if I see through the lenses," she bit out.
"My lenses are the best, Madam," Mr. Sinnett uttered, offended by her statement.
"Do not make this any more difficult, Miss Blair. Open your eyes and test the
thing."
She did open her eyes.
And Benedict was rendered speechless once again.
It would be unfair to simply say that her eyes were topaz brown. There were specs
of almost gold in the middle and something else entirely that he believed he'd have
to study for days before he could name them.
And then she blinked at him and her eyes widened with wonder. "Hmm. I can see a tad
clearer."
Her words snapped him back to the present, reminding him where he was and who he
was with. He was with Agatha Blair, his sisters' governess, the woman who had been
residing in his home for over a year. He ought to not feel like he was seeing her
for the first time when he had spent so many days with her mild and overlooked
presence wherever his sisters or his mother were. He encountered her many times in
the hall. He knew her voice, saw her move, and he had even heard her laugh in one
or two occasions.
So why the bloody hell was he feeling like a total nitwit for not having noticed
this side of her until now? And why in tarnation did he even care that he was?
Finally, she did the thing he could not do at that moment and stepped away from
him. "I believe I shall take these, Mr. Sinnett," Agatha uttered, turning her head
to the shop owner.
Benedict blinked and cleared his throat. He ought to bloody go home now. No, he
ought to go home, go back to work, wait for his mother and sister, and wait for his
bloody wedding. And he ought to stay away from the governess. Yes, that was the
utmost goal.
"You can take this out of my payment, my Lord," Agatha Blair said, turning to him
with her chin held high. "I do need them after all." She would never admit she was
wrong, Benedict assumed. "Thank you," she added. But she was grateful nonetheless,
he thoughtfully added.
He did not reply. How could he when the lady was making him question everything he
knew about her?
*****
She knew she ought to say something that would amend her earlier behaviour. But she
was too proud to admit to anyone that she indeed needed spectacles. And the bloody
thing was a bit uncomfortable. She took them off as she followed Benedict out of
the shop.
"Why did you take them off?" he snapped at her, his brows furrowed. What did she do
now?
Really, the longer she was spending time with him alone, the more she was inclined
to question the very reasons why she had thought herself in love with him.
"I think I will use them only when I am reading," she answered while he signalled
for the footman that he'd open the door himself.
"I do not care how you use them, so long as you do when you are tutoring my
sisters."
"Of course, my Lord," she answered, lifting her skirts a little higher, preparing
to climb inside the carriage as he opened the door. So as to ignore his presence,
she looked to the left.
And that's when she saw him.
He was standing across the street, looking directly at her.
Blood drained down from her face and for a long moment she stood frozen in her
place. "Miss Blair?" she heard Benedict say.
But she could not take her eyes away from the man from across the street.
"Miss Blair, what is the matter?" Benedict asked.
She felt a hand gently grip her arm and she snapped back to reality. She looked
down at Benedict's hand holding her by the arm. "I am all right," she muttered
tetchily, snatching her arm away from his hold and climbed inside the carriage, her
legs shaking. She slid near the window and looked out as Benedict climbed inside.
She heard the door shut close and she flinched, but her eyes were still fixed on
the man across the street.
He was here.
The Vicar had found her.

V. A Spectacular Garden Discovery

"What is the matter, Miss Blair?" Benedict asked, breaking the silence as the
carriage rolled them back home.

She shook her head.

"Something is clearly wrong if you are looking deathly pale." His voice was etched
with irritation which merely fuelled the panic boiling inside her.

She snapped her head to face him and uttered, "It is naught to be concerned of, my
Lord."

"Do not take me for a fool, Miss Blair."

"I am not." She hastily added, "my Lord."

His emerald eyes darkened. "Tell me at once."

"I believe I do not have to, my Lord," she bit out. God, why did she think she
loved this man? Well, mayhap he was merely lovable when he was but a mere sight and
kept his mouth closed. But now that she was the focus of his attention, she found
she did not like it at all.

"As your employer, I demand that you-"

"I am sorry, my Lord, but as your employee, I do also wish that you keep your
curiosities to yourself."

His eyes rounded. The man was obviously surprised. "Why, Miss Blair. I never ken
you can be arrogant."

"It is not a character exclusive to gentries, my Lord," she murmured, turning away
from him to look outside the window of the carriage.

"What are you hiding, Miss Blair? Why did your face suddenly go white?"

"My face, my Lord, has blood. It drains down when one has had a shock. And it can
very well be refilled once more and turn scarlet with anger, which I believe is
happening at this very moment." She couldn't help it. Why wouldn't he just let the
matter rest?

"You must be aware that you are nearly crossing the line."

"Would you like to draw the line for me, then, my Lord?" She mustered the courage
to return her gaze at him. She almost regretted it for his eyes were blazing in
dark green fire. "I would appreciate it if you would, of course, so I could also
tell you the same thing: you are hovering over the line, my Lord." She knew her
face was flushed and her anger eminent. It was no jesting matter what a woman could
do if she was both afraid and angry.

"Miss Blair, I am warning you. If you are keeping something that could eventually
place my family in harm, I will personally remove you from Wickhurst."

It was not hard to picture herself being dragged by Benedict Everard out of the
mansion. But it was hard to imagine how she'd feel if he'd ever resort to such act.
"It's already being done," she answered under her breath, thinking of the Vicar. He
is here to take me away.

"What did you say?"

"I said, my Lord, that you ought not to worry."

He stared at her for a long time, his eyes boring into hers as though he was trying
to read her very thoughts. Finally, he conceded, much to her surprise, but with a
fair warning. "Remember, Miss Blair, whatever it was that scared you ought to stay
your own business. My family and I will not stand a scandal, much more from one
such as you."

Her brow twitched and she hated him at that very moment. "I do give you my word
that nothing will come upon you or your family, my Lord."

His eyes did not leave hers and it almost brought tears to her eyes to keep her
gaze aligned with his, refusing to yield at least this one battle. The Vicar had
finally found her. He would not harm the Everards for he was merely after one
thing: her.

*****

The Dosett ball was among the biggest that started the season. Lady Alice Everard
made certain that her two youngest daughters would be there, clad in their new
gowns of lilac and lavender. Their mother's only wish was that they both behave in
the most proper way. That, of course, would prove to be quite a task for the twins
had plans in mind.

"Now, you know what we ought to do first," Ysabella whispered to Emma before they
climbed out of the carriage.

"Don't fret, Ysa, I know." Emma threw Agatha and Margaret a look before adding
under her breath, "I am sure gentlemen would be swarming the ball tonight. Are you
ready to hunt one for the governess?"

Her sister's eyes twinkled with mischief, eyeing their sister and their governess.
"Isn't it exciting?"

Emma gathered her lilac skirts in her gloved hands and climbed after Agatha and
Margaret. "It is very much exciting indeed," she uttered, louder for their two
adult companions to hear.

"Now," Margaret suddenly said, startling them both when she whirled around to face
them with a stern look. "You both ought to know that I am merely here tonight for
the benefit of the two of you. If you," Margaret fixed her narrowed eyes at each of
them, "ever bring Agatha and I trouble, this night will be over even before you
could say yes to your first dance. One wrong move from both of you, remember. And
you cannot let any gentleman's name appear on your dance cards more than once. You
know what a scandal two dances could bring. Do we understand each other?"

Emma and Ysabella nodded, their minds obviously already inside the ballroom.
Margaret turned to Agatha who looked magnificent in her yellow gown. But she had
tied her hair tightly in a bun which horrified the twins, yet it had to do. Surely,
a gentleman or two would take notice of the governess.

Finally, Margaret nodded and turned around to walk ahead of them, her white gown
swishing in her wake.

"It would also be more gratifying if we find one for her," Emma whispered to
Ysabella.

"Margaret?" Ysabella asked, her face contorting with doubt. "She is not married not
because she is lacking suitors. She is unmarried and a spinster because she chose
to. It would be very difficult to find one for her, really. We ought to focus on
the easiest task which is Agatha."

"What makes you certain she wishes to marry?"

"She will marry if we find the right gentleman."

"Or Lord."

Ysabella's nose crinkled. "You believe a Lord would marry beneath him?"

Emma shrugged. "I heard it had been done before."

"For love?"

"Or so they say."

"Agatha is not hard to love if she merely shows everyone who she really is,"
Ysabella expressed with a sigh. "She ought to show her true self whenever we have
our respites."
"What are you two vixens up to now?" a man's voice said behind them and they both
jumped in surprise.

"Benedict!" the twins chorused. "And Lady Frances!" they added when they saw the
lady standing beside their brother accompanied by her lady companion, their voices
apparently dying with disappointment. Benedict had not made his attendance known.
This would definitely be a challenge.

Lady Frances smiled at them, her blue-grey eyes twinkling with merriment. "Good
evening, Ysabella, Emma."

The two youngest Everards gawked at her. She was wearing the whitest gown they had
ever seen. Her blonde hair was almost white under the lamp above them.

"Emma! Ysabella!" Margaret hissed from the entryway. Also seeing the couple, she
waved at them and then returned her attention to the twins. "Come at once!"

"Behave, you two," Benedict said with warning, his eyes looking over to where
Margaret and Agatha were.

"We always behave," Ysabella answered with a smile. "Sometimes in a good way," she
added before Emma continued, "and sometimes badly."

Their brother's eyes slanted and they whirled around to briskly walk away,
giggling. "She looks so white I thought she was a firefly coming down from a hole,"
Emma said between laughs.

"And landed on a boring tree bark," Ysabella added before they reached Margaret and
Agatha.

"Do not leave our sight," Margaret warned them.

"Yes, of course," the twins answered, both assuming an innocent and proper look.

They dared not glance at their governess who was looking at them suspiciously.

She'd never know what would come upon her, the twins thought.

*****

Agatha was mesmerized by the elegance that wrapped the Dosett ball. She had thought
that her yellow gown was extravagant but now she thought herself wearing naught but
drab compared to the others.

And most definitely Lady Frances Highmore who was clad in a white ball gown that
illuminated her entire feature, especially her hair. And not only that, but she was
standing beside Benedict Everard, the Lord of Devonshire who looked powerful beside
her. Lady Frances' beauty may not be matched by Benedict's, but Agatha had to now
concede that they were a perfect match. Lady Frances exuded elegance and frailty
while Benedict emitted power. She smiled at everyone while he maintained his flat
affect. They could never be more than the opposite of the other, yet they moved as
one.

Agatha had trouble tearing her eyes away from the pair when they danced. As a
matter of fact, quite a few guests stopped to watch them. After all, their
engagement had been publicly announced and not a soul in Wickhurst expressed their
contradiction to the match.
"I heard a new young doctor in town has arrived," Agatha heard Ysabella whisper to
Emma.

"A doctor?"

"Why? I heard he is quite handsome."

"Where?"

From the corner of her eye, she saw the twins crane their neck to look past the
dancers and to the crowd across the ballroom. Agatha followed their gaze but could
not see who they were looking at. The twins started to move. "Where are you going?"
Margaret asked first before Agatha could form the question in her head.

"Refreshments," Ysabella answered and Agatha sensed the obvious lie.

Margaret nodded and the twins immediately took off.

"I shall follow them," Agatha told her. "Would you be alright alone?"

Margaret waved her hand. "Go ahead before those two escape. I shall be alright. I
see Tori and I might talk with her. It would be amusing to talk about how boring
this party is."

Agatha nodded and followed the twins. She came to the refreshment table where they
said they'd be but did not find them. She turned to survey the nearby crowds and
she started to worry.

Where the bloody hell were they? Not an hour into the ball and they had escaped her
watch?

*****

Benedict could not ken why his eyes kept diverting back to where his sisters and
the governess were. Mayhap he was merely worried that his two younger sisters would
be up to no good tonight, but he knew that was a lie. His eyes would simply pass
his three sisters and hover over Agatha Blair.

For a brief moment, when he first saw her outside the ballroom earlier, he wondered
why she did not let her hair down. And he found that he was disappointed she did
not. Having erased that thought, he yet again found himself wondering what she must
be feeling. This could very well be her first ball as well.

She was surrounded by glittering gowns and glasses, of extravagant jewels and
gentry folks, of fine and demure ladies and their mamas, of wines and merry talks.
Did she feel lost like the other chaperones in every corner of the ballroom? Of was
she feeling quite comfortable like Margaret, caring not for the shallow party?

"My father is greatly relieved I am finally getting married," he heard Frances say
to a couple of their acquaintances who joined them after their dance. Benedict
listened while his eyes hovered over to where his family was and he frowned.
Margaret was making her way to Tori, her best friend, and Agatha was on her way
somewhere, her face looking worried. His eyes scanned the area for the twins. They
were gone.

"My dear, would you excuse me for a moment? It seems that my sisters are giving
their governess a trouble," he whispered beside Frances' head.

Frances turned to him and smiled. "Of course. Please do tell me if you require
help. I shall keep an eye if I chance upon them." One of the main reasons why he
chose to offer for Frances was the simple fact that she was not the clingy kind. He
could do whatever he wished and she'd simply wait for him with great patience.

"Thank you," he answered, turning to their acquaintances to bow to be excused. And

then he started to stride toward Agatha who was looking lost in one corner of the
ballroom.

He stopped. Mayhap it was safer to just look for his sisters on his own. He could
not trust himself to be near the governess just yet. And so he turned away from
Agatha's direction and went to the garden. If there was any place the twins were
fond of in an event such as this that would be the outdoors.

*****

Agatha could not find the twins in the ballroom. She had circled the entire space,
fought her way through the crowd of Lords, Ladies and gentlemen alike, twice yet
there was not a sign of the two devils.

She saw Margaret in one corner, talking with Tori, and she decided not to ruin the
lady's night by announcing the twins' disappearance. Mayhap they merely went
outside for air? They had always preferred gardens despite the plants being "shams"
as they had called it before. But this was not the perfect time to go out in the
gardens. Not when they were in a ball and could possibly be found talking to a
gentleman or two. That would cause such a big riot. They were Everards, after all,
and their every action was being watched.

The pair might be too naïve to realize the implications, but then society never
judged anyone by their naivety but by their mistakes.

Agatha threw another glance at Margaret's direction. She'd inform the lady of the
situation if the twins were not in the garden. In haste, she turned and walked to
the doors that led to the vast gardens of the Dorsetts.

She passed by a couple who were talking in whispers and bent her head to walk
deeper into the garden. She turned left, then right and then sighed. After
stumbling into another couple who did not look so pleased by her sudden presence,
Agatha made another turn. The fake tall bushes did not aide with her search, which
was entirely frustrating. At the last minute she regretted not having bought her
spectacles with her. The twins had insisted that she did not and she had let them
take it away with a comment that their brother ought to have chosen a more
beautiful piece.

"Ysabella? Emma?" she called out in whisper, her eyes narrowed.

They could not be here, she thought. Surely, they must be somewhere in the
household. Or mayhap they had returned and were looking for her. Her shoulders
sagged as she concluded that it was time to let Margaret know.

"They are not here," Benedict's voice said from her left.

She jumped in surprise, her eyes wide. "My Lord. I did not know you were here." Her
heart was racing against her chest, probably because of the shock or the fact that
he was looking quite handsome in the dim garden dressed in a black suit. Was he not
with his fiancée just moments ago?

He walked toward her. "I noticed that you have lost them and decided to search for
the twins myself. I believe I have circled the entire garden twice."
"Oh God," she uttered, her mind back to the twins. She desperately looked around
the empty space, a small clearing that was nearly hidden by the tall sham bushes.
"Where could they be? I ought not to have let them out of my sight."

"Yes, you should not have."

She let his accusatory tone pass for she was at fault after all. The twins would
not have been able to escape if she did not trust them that much.

"They are planning to haunt for a husband, you know," Benedict said, his voice flat
and his eyes keeping hers prisoner into their depths. Was he angry? She could not
really tell. But he was coming nearer, which was not good at all. Her heart started
to hammer once more.

"Husband?" She asked, shaking her head. "I believe you are mistaken, my Lord. They
do not have marriage in their immediate future plans."

"I am talking about your husband."

Her brows furrowed. "Mine?"

Benedict merely stared at her for a moment, giving her a moment to study the two
largest white scars on his right cheek, before he said, "You must be aware that my
sisters are fond of matchmaking."

Agatha blinked. It took a long while before his meaning was correctly interpreted
by her brain and she laughed. She did not mean to, but she could not help it.

Benedict frowned at her. "I am surprised that you find it amusing at all."

She shook her head. "It is not. But it is entirely absurd, my Lord, thus the
laughter."

"Absurd? You find the idea of you finding a husband absurd?"

"Of course! Who wouldn't! Me, a husband?"

"You do not wish to wed?"

"No, of course, I do. I would wish to find a husband, but to find it in a ball such
as this, that is impossible."

His brows cocked high. "I believe one could learn to appreciate you, Miss Blair, if
you merely mellow down your tendency to be too vocal in your opinions as I have
come to find out just recently."

Agatha's smile completely vanished and her lips pursed. "I believe not all men
think so badly of my opinions as you obviously do, my Lord."

His brows furrowed once more. "I am not saying your opinions are bad, Miss Blair."

"But you believe they are entirely misplaced for I am not in the right station to
give them," she concluded, stepping away from him. She did not know why she felt
hurt. All the while she thought he would at least be different from his class.
Benedict Everard was, after all, just like the rest of his class.

"Station does not have anything to do with it," his bit out, obviously frustrated
himself.
"Then it must be my gender then. But my Lord, women do have the right to speak
their mind as well-gentry or not."

"I am not going to argue with your on matters regarding rights for I believe that
is not what is important."

She lifted her chin, one brow slightly higher than the other. "I believe we have
come to an agreement for once, my Lord."

Whoever had thought that Benedict Everard was boring? No, he was not boring at all.
He could be as frustrating as hell, that's what he was!

And very handsome despite the scarred face. They vanished before her eyes as he
stepped nearer, holding her gaze. Why was he stepping closer? She ought to go, she
thought. The twins had to be found.

But she found herself frozen, waiting. Waiting to see how far Benedict Everard
would go.

She waited and found that he planned not to simply get near, but closer until he
was hovering above her, his eyes curiously looking down at her, as though he was
only seeing her for the first time. Agatha could not tear her eyes away from his
emerald ones, nor could she muster the energy to take a step back.

And before either of them knew what was happening, Benedict Everard bent down and
planted his lips against hers.

VI. After the Ball

Before his thoughts vanished into thin air because of the kiss, Benedict's mind
rushed to many questions.

Why had he never noticed her before?

Why, after more than a year under his roof, did she suddenly seem interesting?

Why, after having heard her talk to his mother and sisters numerous times, did he
find himself intently paying close attention to every word that came out of her
mouth?

Why now?

She was stiff against his lips. Afraid she'd step back or push him away, Benedict
discovered that he could not let her. Not now. Mayhap later after reason took him
over. But not now.

His hands slowly went up to ever so lightly cup her face. He slanted his lips over
hers, urging her to open for him. And when she did, he did not hesitate to deepen
the kiss. His mouth captured the tiny gasp that escaped hers when his tongue delved
inside her mouth, seeking and tasting.

The invasion must have been a wrong move for the beauty before him suddenly pushed
him away. And then she slapped him with a scalding look. It was frozen not by the
strike but by the fiery look on her face.

It was too late when she realized what she had done. Agatha Blair stepped back with
fear in her eyes. Did she think he'd strike her back? That thought brought a scowl
on his face.
"I will not dare inquire why you did what you did, my Lord, but I do insist that we
forget it."

"Miss Blair," he said, pausing for a while for he suddenly felt it was wrong to
call her so formally after stealing a kiss from her. "I was not thinking."

Her jaw tightened, her brown topaz eyes glinting with contained anger. "I do not
wish to discuss it further." With that, she whirled around and walked away. Before
Benedict could call out her name to beg for pardon, she disappeared from sight.

*****

Agatha could feel her whole body shaking. Partly, she blamed herself for what had
happened.

She had let it happen. She had allowed him to come closer and she even answered his
kiss!

But he ought not to have done that, she thought as she trudged her way through the
garden and back to the ballroom. He had a fiancée. He was getting married. And he
kissed his sisters' governess. What for?

Did he think she was utterly timid and ignorant? Did he think she regarded him so
highly that she'd allow him to do whatever he desired to those who worked for him?
And how many other women in the Everard mansion, even in his own estate,
Devonshire, had he kissed? How many other women had so foolishly thought themselves
in love with him?

Feeling utterly insulted that he regarded her like any of his mistresses, if he had
any, Agatha did not notice Frances Highmore standing before her as she walked into
the entryway of the ballroom.

"Miss Blair," the lady called out, drawing her back to reality. Standing before her
was the woman the man she had so foolishly fallen in love with decided to take as
his wife. She wondered if he had kissed Frances Highmore as well. Did the woman
feel the same surge of current that coursed through her veins when he kissed her as
well? "It is Miss Blair, yes?" Frances Highmore asked, her blue-grey eyes looking
at Agatha curiously.

"Yes, my Lady," she said, making a small curtsy.

"Did you come from the garden?" The lady looked over her shoulder into the garden.

"Yes, my Lady." Agatha prayed that her face was not flushed as she answered.

"Then did you chance upon Benedict? He had mentioned you were having quite a
dilemma with the twins."

Having been reminded of the twins, Agatha's mind returned to the problem at hand.
"No, my Lady," she lied. "I did not see Lord Devonshire."

Frances Highmore slowly nodded, her brows furrowed into a frown. She shrugged at
Agatha and smiled. "He'd come find me once he returns. I hope the twins are
alright?"

They are still missing, she frustratingly answered in her head. She forced a small
smile on her lips. "I believe they are," she replied instead. "If you will excuse
me, my Lady, I have an urgent matter to attend to."
"Of course, Miss Blair," Frances Highmore said with a smile.

Agatha curtsied and rushed away to find Margaret.

*****

Benedict was cursing himself for his stupidity. He should not have kissed the
governess. What the bloody hell came to him?

Well, the answer was simple, really.

She was there, looking incomparably beautiful in a yellow gown and there was not a
soul in sight. Only a fool would let the chance pass. And only a more foolish man
would have done what he did.

He deserved that strike, he thought. But he did not deserve was the fear he saw in
her eyes. Or that hateful look. Was he too horrifying even for a governess? He had
been considered quite handsome before he acquired his scars, two long ones on his
right cheek and another on his left.

But Agatha Blair had never looked at him the same way most women did when they
first saw him. She did not flinch during their first meeting more than a year past.
And on the rare occasions that their eyes happened to meet, she was looking at
naught but them-his eyes. Not his scars, his eyes.

Shaking his head, he reminded himself that the kiss he shared with Agatha Blair
ought to be forgotten as she had clearly said. And it should.

"Good, you are back," Frances' voice said when he entered the ballroom. "I had been
searching for you."

He offered a small smile at her. For a moment her eyes hovered over him and he knew
they were fixed on his scars before she forced her gaze to his eyes. He had been in
front too many people not to miss the horrible fact that Frances was a bit bothered
by his scars. But he also knew that she was too good to even let it known to
anyone. She'd learn to live with it, he thought.

"Did you find the twins?"

He shook his head. Yes, of course. The twins! "I did find the governess, but not
the twins."

"You found the governess?" Frances asked, a brow cocked high.

"Yes, and I believe my sisters are still missing."

Frances merely nodded with a frown.

"If you shall excuse me again, darling, I have to look for them before they can say
goodbye to their first season."

Again, his fiancée merely nodded before he walked away to find his sisters.

*****

Apparently, it was the twins who found her.

Agatha slipped into the quiet hallway that led to the many doors of the Dorsett
estate with hopes of finding the two vixens.
"Agatha! Agatha!" Emma's voice called after her before she entered a door to an
unknown room.

With a determined look on her face, Agatha faced Emma. Beside her was Ysabella who
looked as excited as her sister. "You two have a lot of explaining to do. Margaret
is looking for both of you as we speak and I am telling you, she is not happy at
all."

"We found such a great collection of literary works in the Dorsett library," Emma
uttered as though she did not hear Agatha.

"They have a tad about adventures aboveground! You ought to see them!" Ysabella
tugged on her hand and started to drag her down the other end of the corridor.

Agatha pulled back and sternly looked at her two wards. "No. We are going home."

Their eyes went wide. "Home? But why?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You have disobeyed a simple rule, Emma, Ysabella. You are
both old enough to understand them and follow them like proper ladies ought to. And
we are going home because your sister is at her wit's end."

Without giving them a chance to protest, Agatha turned to the direction of the
ballroom. She looked over her shoulder to gesture for the twins to follow her.
Their shoulders sagged but they did what she wanted and walked with her back to the
party.

Margaret was seriously angry when they found her with Tori. Thankfully, it was Tori
who offered to tell Benedict his sisters had gone home, and before the twins knew
it, they were forced out of the ball too early and into the carriage.

"I am utterly disappointed!" Margaret cried out the moment the carriage rolled out
of the driveway. The twins' heads were bowed like scared little children. Margaret
and Agatha had both seen it too many times to sympathize. "I will not even scold
you for Benedict surely will."

Emma and Ysabella snapped their heads in surprise. "Please, Margaret, just make us
suffer in your hands instead. Do not let him take us to Devonshire, please!"
Ysabella begged.

Margaret scoffed. "Too late to make bargains, my dears. Benedict shall decide what
becomes of your fates."

Agatha turned to look out the window of the carriage to hide the smile brought
about by the horrified faces of her wards.

*****

The twins were met with outrage from their mother and their brother the very next
day. What they could not understand was why they had to suffer when all they truly
did was stay inside the library with not a soul in sight, and read the books there.

Mayhap they did try to follow the new young doctor of Wickhurst but it seemed the
man had had enough of the party and went home. After that, the library seemed more
interesting than dancing with young lords and gentlemen.

Their mother had expressed her plans to go to the south for the Christmas season.
It had always been the family's tradition to spend the holiday at Devonshire. Their
brothers Maxwell, Nicholas and Ralph were still out of town on a hunting expedition
somewhere in the furthest corners of The Town.

"Margaret," Ysabella whispered beside their sister after they found her alone in
the parlor. Agatha had given them a break from their lessons and was back in her
room for at least another hour.

"What is it now?" Margaret asked without looking from the book she was reading. She
appeared to be still quite angry after last night's events.

"Mother said that you are going to Devonshire on the morrow," Emma started
carefully, taking a seat beside Margaret.

"The two of you are coming along as well," Margaret corrected. She narrowed her
eyes at the twins. "Why am I starting to think that you are both planning
something?"

"Benedict is not coming, yes?" Ysabella asked instead.

"He has matters to attend to for the wedding. And the Highmores had invited him to
their Christmas dinner." This time, Margaret's eyes had formed into slits. "Why?"

"We do have a favor-"

"No."

"But Margaret! You have not heard us yet!"

Their elder sister shook her head. "No."

"We want to stay with Benedict."

"You do not like Benedict," Margaret pointed out.

"He is not that bad, but we are doing this not for him but for...Agatha," Ysabella
answered, whispering Agatha's name.

Margaret frowned. "Agatha?"

The twins nodded.

"We shall do anything you wish us to do in the future. Anything," Ysabella

bargained, holding up her right hand.

"You know we do not promise anything so easily," Emma added, holding up her hand as
well.

Margaret appeared to consider their offer. "Anything?" she asked them.

They nodded their black heads eagerly. "Anything."

That afternoon, the twins stood outside their mother's study while their sister
talked with the woman.

"Ysabella and Emma are quite excited to go to Devonshire," their sister's

nonchalant voice said from behind the door. They pressed their ears closer to the
door.

"They do not like Devonshire."

"Ah, but they do. I heard they have already made plans with their village friends
in Devonshire."

"Hmm," they heard their mother utter. "They ought to pay for what they had done
last night."

"I do agree on that note, mother. All the while I had thought Devonshire would
prove to be such a great punishment. It seems we are all wrong."

"They go to their first ball and disappear even before their first dances and now
they are planning to have a grand time with friends at Devonshire?"

"You are quite right."

"Very well, announce to them that they are not to go to Devonshire but ought to
stay here with their brother. It is about time that we let Benedict handle those
two."

"I would do so gladly," Margaret uttered and before the door opened, the twins
stepped aside to press their backs against the wall.

Margaret ambled out of their mother's study, closed the door and with a triumphant
smile, turned to the twins. "You promised," she reminded them.

Beaming with gratefulness, the twins nodded. "Promise."

*****

Agatha could not quite understand why staying in the Everard mansion was punishment
for the twins. Wasn't sending them to Devonshire the biggest one of all? They had
never liked the dreary place.

She was honestly quite excited that the twins would go to Devonshire with Margaret
and Lady Alice. It meant she could have her own holiday in peace. The season had
come to a pause for the Christmas season, only to resume after the holidays. It was
the only thought that eased Agatha. No more balls for now, she had thought. After
all, she had so much to think over. The most pressing one of all was the Vicar. She
had not seen him since that time Benedict procured her spectacles. Mayhap the Vicar
did not know where she lived? If so, she had enough time to escape Wickhurst.

But where would she go?

She was thinking deeply on such matter as she walked along the corridor that led to
the study. But when she looked up, she saw the person she had been insistently
avoiding since last night. Benedict Everard was walking directly toward her.
Without thinking, Agatha turned and entered the door to her right.

Stumbling inside, her heart racing, she realized with horror where she was.

"I believe you have mistakenly stumbled into my study, Miss Blair," Benedict's
voice said behind her.

Agatha swallowed. "I believe so as well, my Lord. My apologies," she murmured,

turning around to face the door with her head bent.

But he was standing directly in front of her. Too near, she thought before she
stepped back. The polished floor looked quite interesting.
"Are you, by any chance, avoiding me, Miss Blair?"

Agatha snapped her head up and was met by his curious emerald ones. Her gaze was
once more held prisoner. She blinked and shook her head with a laugh she wished
sounded incredulous to his ears. "Of course not, my Lord." Finally, she managed to
tear her eyes from his and looked at the far corner of the study. "Your study is
quite good, my Lord." She curtsied and circled around him. Fortunately, he did not
stop her.

With her heart beating rapidly against her chest, Agatha walked out of Benedict's
study. She could not fathom what her days would be like if she were to spend it
with the Lord of the manor still in residence while his entire family was away.
They had all gone together last year and she was left alone. But then, she was not
alone now. Mayhap it was a blessing that the twins were staying after all.

VII. A Jump Into the Woods

It was the second time for the twins to stay in the Everard mansion alone with
their brother and the first for Agatha. The twins had expertly avoided Benedict's
doubtful questions as to the reason behind their having stayed behind. Agatha, on
the other hand, was given specific instructions by Lady Alice to continue the
twins' lessons as part of their punishment.

When Agatha found the two devils avidly whispering to each other that morning
before breakfast, she could not help but conclude that they had indeed planned
everything. They snapped their heads toward her when she entered and assumed an air
of innocence that reeked of conspiracy, deviousness and trouble.
As they waited for Benedict to join them, Agatha stood in her corner, wondering
when her two wards would learn to act like proper ladies as most of the others
their age already had years ago.
"Are the two of you planning something that would make your mother utterly
disappointed and your brothers very angry?" she carefully asked with narrowed eyes.
Emma raised her brows, looking irrevocably innocent. "No, of course not."
Ysabella turned on her chair to look at her. "Whatever made you say such thing,
Agatha?"
"Perhaps she is very much aware, as does everyone except mother, that the two of
you are always up to no good," Benedict answered as he entered the breakfast room.
Agatha bent her head as the twins stiffened in their seats. She'd let them start
their breakfast and leave to eat hers in her chamber.
"Miss Blair, do join us."
Agatha's head snapped, her brows raised high in surprise. Benedict Everard was
looking directly at her from his place at the head of the table. "My Lord?"
"Do join us for breakfast."
"But I don-''
"Please, Agatha, do eat with us," Emma begged.
She looked at her two wards who looked as though she was their salvation. Traveling
her eyes back to Benedict, he tilted his head to the right which showed his
impatience.
"It is Christmas soon, Agatha. Grant us this favour," Ysabella added eagerly.
With a sigh, Agatha stiffly walked toward the table and sat beside Emma. She turned
toward Benedict who was looking quite content that she followed his order, and
said, "Just this once."
He lifted his shoulder in a shrug and rang for another serving of breakfast for her
"By the by," Ysabella started, looking at her brother, "Why is Levi not hunting
with the other three brothers?"
"He's heavily preoccupied with so many important things."
"Like his estate?" Emma asked.
"He'd had that estate for two years now and he is not yet bored with it?" Ysabella
chirped in.
Agatha shook her head slowly, wondering how the twins could so effectively veer a
conversation to one that would help them escape trouble. She had met Levi only
twice. The man was almost the same as Benedict, save that he smiled more often and
obviously more handsome. He was also rather easy to talk to, but he did not like
Wickhurst as most Townspeople did. He liked to stay in his own old and lonely
estate near the South as the twins would often call it. He had recently inherited
it from an uncle and was doing his best to regrow the crops and repair the estate
back to its former glory.
Charlotte, the housekeeper, entered the room, carrying a plate. Agatha immediately
wanted to melt in her seat. The surprise on the large woman's face was undeniably
that of contempt when she saw Agatha sitting with the Everard children. The lady
placed the plate before Agatha and left the breakfast room in silence.
She'd have another confrontation to face later on, she thought as she forced
herself to finish her breakfast as fast as she could.
*****
"You ought to know your place," Charlotte told her later that morning. Agatha was
in her room, preparing for an afternoon with the twins when the housekeeper entered
without prior notice.
Agatha had heard such words before and she knew, from what the scullery maid had
told her, that Charlotte despite Agatha the most. As a matter of fact, the
housekeeper had always despised every governess that came into the Everard Mansion.
"You ought to have refused their offer to join them in breakfast. It is not done."
"Charlotte, I do believe that your lordship was merely being generous when he asked
for my presence around the table."
"You are a governess-"
Agatha jumped to her feet, irked. "I am exactly that. And I am not part of the
household staff. I am not under your care, but directly to the lord and lady of the
manor."
Charlotte's eyes widened. "How arrogant of you! You are no governess! You and I
both know that. You are but a mere servant before you-"
"Then do act like a proper lady if you also wish to be invited into a meal with the
masters." Her voice started to shake. "The first lesson to acting like a proper
lady is to respect the wishes of those who are above their station. Who was I to
refuse Lord Devonshires when he had so kindly-"
"You aspire to be among them!"
The accusation further ignited the anger inside Agatha. She balled her hands into
fists. "The only thing I aspire is to be left alone by self-righteous individuals
in this household."
Charlotte scoffed, shaking her head. "He will soon marry Lady Highmore and you
ought to know your place around him. Soon, dear, the Everard will have no use of
you. The twins no longer need you and your days are counted here while we all stay-
while I stay as I always did because I know my place."
"Then I feel sorry for you. I have no wish to stay in service for I'd rather find a
different employment devoid of horrible attitudes!"
Charlotte clucked her tongue. "Know your place, Agatha. You were but a mere servant
and you shall always stay as such no matter the title you call yourself. You came
from the world of service, not nobility. And it is paramount that we all remember
where we came from."
No, I do not wish to remember where I came from, she silently answered. "I am not-"
"Agathaaaaaa!" Ysabella shouted from somewhere in the corridor outside. Charlotte
immediately turned around just in time as the twins stumbled inside, their eyes
glinting with merriment.
"What are you doing here, Charlotte?" Emma asked.
"I was having a nice little chat with Agatha, but we are done, my ladies,"
Charlotte said to the twins. "If you will excuse me, my ladies."
The twins immediately forgot about the housekeeper as they both turned to face
Agatha. "Benedict agreed to take us to the woods."
"The woods?"
"Yes, the one just outside Wickhurst. A picnic!" Emma shouted.
"Come on, Agatha, we ought to hurry," Ysabella said, signalling with her hand. "He
said to be in the garden before him or we will not go at all."
Agatha started to shake her head. "You can both go alone. You will be with your
brother. There is no need for my presence."
"Of course, there is! Come along now!"
*****
Benedict walked to the direction of the garden. As he did, he thought of how the
twins had manipulated him into letting them go to the woods. They had first asked
if they could take Agatha with them on a short trip outside Wickhurst. When he
asked where, they had simply answered, "The woods, of course. It could not very
well be the mines, could it?"
He had, at first said no, but they insisted that they needed the sunlight. He
should at least not deprive them of that. They promised to take two footmen and
even Jefferson if Benedict found the need to. They claimed that they had been on
the woods with no one but Margaret and Agatha before and they went home utterly
unscathed.
Knowing them, he knew they were up to something. They stayed behind for a reason
and he wanted to discover it himself. And so he presented himself as their
chaperone and insisted that they go to the garden before he did or they would all
stay indoors.
"We are on a respite because it is the holiday, Agatha, do not fret." He heard
Ysabella's voice say as he neared the garden. Agatha? They were taking the
governess with them?
"But we do have our lessons still and sitting cross-legged on the bench is not-"
"Respite!" the twins shouted at the same time.
Benedict frowned. What the bloody hell did they mean by respite?
He inched his head so he could take a peek at what the three ladies were doing.
Agatha was wearing her spectacles and was looking helplessly at the twins who were
sitting cross-legged on the bench, their outdoor slippers lying haphazardly on the
ground. The governess had her hands on her hips.
He waited. Finally her shoulders sagged and the twins giggled in triumph. "Fine.
But you brats ought to know that we are almost out of respite for the day," Agatha
said, taking a seat beside the twins as though she belonged there, as though she
was one of them.
Emma, in a fast motion, slid along the bench and laid her head on Agatha's lap. "I
wish you will not leave us, Agatha. We'll miss our respites the most."
Agatha scoffed, pinching Emma's nose. "It is because you little devils would rather
remain as children. You are both old enough to marry and you ought to act like
real, proper ladies."
"I thought we are having a respite?" Ysabella asked.
Before Agatha could answer, Benedict decided to make his presence known. He stepped
into view and said, "Are you ready?"
Agatha immediately jumped to her feet, causing Emma to literally roll off the bench
and on the ground. Ysabella almost fell backward but was caught by Agatha. The
three of them laughed out loud.
He shook his head in disbelief. No wonder the twins kept on acting as though they
were still at the same age they were five years past. Their governess was exactly
the same! And she could laugh in front of him? How in the bloody hell did he come
to believe that she couldn't?
Benedict cleared his throat once more and almost immediately, the three of them
were reminded of his presence. They stiffened-Ysabella on the bench, Agatha on her
feet and Emma on all fours on the ground.
"The carriage is ready," he uttered in the driest voice he could muster and walked
away. He honestly could not come up with the best response to such situation. Hell,
he could not even decide whether or not to reprimand them.
They were in their own household to do whatever they wanted, he thought. And it was
not as though it was the first for him to witness the twins engaged in such
behaviour.
But it was the first time he realized that Agatha Blair could be just like them.
Now, that was not what he had ever expected.
*****
The woods were located just outside Wickhurst. Mayhap one of the Founders had been
quite ambitious to have a forest belowground that he built three giant holes, side
by side, above. They were among the few biggest holes around The Town.
Such holes, like the others, were surrounded by high walls above that it made
anyone from aboveground climb on them and see the Town below. However the Founders,
and the present Leaders and their predecessors, managed to maintain the secrecy was
not privy to common Townspeople. Those who knew were the members of the League of
Founders, men whose identity were also a secret, and the Leaders themselves. And
mayhap the Town Guards, the men who kept peace and order around the Town, knew as
well.
As to those who were outside such circles, they have naught to worry about but
enjoy the holes and the wonders they bring.
And such holes outside of Wickhurst had hectares of woods below them where people
could have a picnic. A natural stream ran at the farthest side, but not many dared
to go near for it was said that a few wild animals lived there. And it was against
the rules of The Town to come near the stream.
The twins, however crazy they may be, knew that whoever interfered with any of The
Town's laws would be met with grave punishments. And so they decided to put their
plans into action just a few meters away from the clearing they found with Benedict
and Agatha.
It may not be the best time to visit the woods for snow was almost covering the
ground. But the twins loved the snow. And its presence would be perfect for their
plan.
"Where are you going?" Agatha asked, sounding a bit panicked when the twins stood
up.
"Just stretching our legs, Agatha," Emma said nonchalantly, looking up at the hole
above, letting the warmth of the sun brush her face as they filtered through the
leaves of the trees.
Benedict was standing beside their governess, his hands behind him, his boots
almost buried in the snow. Agatha, on the other hand, was sitting on a warm cloth
they had laid on the ground after Benedict cleared the ground of snow. She was in
her usual boring grey dress while Benedict was still in his frock coat and the
twins knew better than to remind him that he ought not to be dressed so
conservatively. But they knew better than to irk their brother who seemed content
to be standing by like a footman. As to Agatha's choice of clothing, well, they
could address that in the future as they did before the Dorsett ball.
Agatha started to stand up, but Benedict uttered, "Let them be, Miss Blair." And
when she started to protest, their brother added, "I do have matters to discuss
with you regarding your employment."
Although they would also love to hear what Benedict had to say about Agatha's
employment, they had more urgent things to do so Emma and Ysabella smiled and
slowly made their way to the nearest tree, enjoying the sound of snow under their
feet. As Agatha and Benedict talked, seemingly immersed in the topic at hand, the
two of them climbed up and sat on the nearest branch.
"You do it," Ysabella nudged Emma.
Her sister threw her a horrified look. "No, you do it. You are older."
Ysabella's eyes widened in disbelief. "Why do you always have to remind me of that
when we are about to do something dangerous?"
Emma smiled. "Because it works?"
Ysabella shook her head. "No, you do it this time around."
"But, Ysa, I don't-"
"I will call for the doctor. He'd come and we could execute the rest of our plan."
Emma grimaced, looking at the ground below. The snow would cushion the fall, but it
would still be a fall! "It would bloody hurt like hell, Ysa."
"This is for a good cause, Emma. Should I remind you that this was your idea?"
It had been a perfect plan. But now that they ought to execute it, they had to
waste time debating who ought to jump and sacrifice herself so they could finally
get to meet the doctor.
Little did they know, an unlikely accident was yet to unfold.

VIII. Meanwhile
Meanwhile, while Agatha wished to be somewhere else but near Benedict Everard, she
felt she had been trapped. She swallowed when he sat down beside her. She ought to
feel cold with the snow surrounding them but she didn't. His nearness was not
merely warm, it nearly electrifying.

He might have noticed the nearness for he immediately moved further away and
cleared his throat.
"You wished to talk about my employment, my Lord?" Agatha did not wish to suffer
such awkwardness when she could be somewhere with the twins having fun.
Benedict Everard nodded. Agatha could not keep her mind from thinking that he must
truly be handsome before he acquired the scars. How did he get them? Where? Who
gave them to him?
"If you do not wish to remain as Margaret's companion, I could refer you to a
prominent family outside of Wickhurst who may be in need of a governess."
Agatha blinked, surprised. Who would not be? She was aware that he did not regard
her with much fondness as the twins or Margaret, or their mother, but he ought to
have at least tried to be nicer. Slightly irked that he was itching to get rid of
her-not just out of the mansion but Wickhurst itself-and the mistake he did in the
garden during the Dorsett ball could be the reason behind it, Agatha shook her
head.
"You do not wish for a good referral?"
She shook her head.
The beast frowned. "What do you wish for then?"
"I do not wish to have a referral made by you," she uttered in reply. Her chin
lifted in arrogance and she belatedly realized it. "I need to receive one written
by your mother, my Lord."
His brow twitched but he remained silent, looking intently at her, his emerald eyes
turning darker as seconds passed. "Then at least let me aid in looking for a good
family to take you in." He said the words through clenched teeth and it further
ignited the annoyance boiling inside her.
"I do not wish to work for another family, my Lord," she lied.
"You don't?"
She shook her head. "No, not just anyone, that is. I am not a foundling, after
all."
"I did not mean to say you are. I told you, I could find a prominent family for you
somewhere."
"I believe I could find it myself, my Lord."
This time Benedict had finally let his frustration show on his scarred face. His
brows knitted in a frown. "Are you refusing my offer to help, Miss Blair?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"Why?"
"Because I do not want it."
"Why?"
"Why do you keep asking why? I simply do not want it."
A scoff escaped his lips. "I had never thought you were arrogant and proud until
now, Miss Blair."
The corner of her lips twitched. "I know. The horrifying realization is evident on
your face, my Lord."
"Is your near departure the reason for this sudden show of your true colors?"
"No, of course not, my Lord." Her eyes flickered as an unbearably good and witty
remark came to her mind. "It is, as a matter of fact, because of me finally seeing
your true colors."
Whatever she said, he did not like it for his eyes narrowed into slits. "I have
always wondered what my family has seen in you that would warrant such high
praises. After the debacle I witnessed earlier, I believe I am yet to believe you
have charmed your way into their hearts by acting exactly the way they do-
scandalously."
Agatha's annoyance flared to anger. "I beg your pardon, my Lord, but I have been
doing my job as your sisters' governess quite tremendously and beyond satisfactory.
What you witnessed earlier was one of our respites, which I allow for not but more
than two hours each day. They are-"
"No longer children and are expected to find themselves a husband soon. If you keep
on giving them the liberty to do what they want, they will be naught but utter
failures."
She could not believe her ears. She stiffened, her hands shaking into fists. "The
twins are smart and witty and a man will be a fool not to see the life they can
bring into someone's life."
"You contradict your teachings at every turn, Miss Blair."
"No, I merely contradict a few of the norm. Everyone has the right to freely
express themselves, most especially in their own household. A home is not a home if
it, too, keeps its masters prisoners."
"You speak as though you care too much beyond your duty for them."
"Of course, I do! I would not be human if I did not grow to love them. They are the
closest thing to a family I could ever have after I left the Haverstons and-" She
stopped after realizing what she had said. She did not have to explain anything to
him. Whatever was on his mind, Benedict did not give it voice for he merely kept
his gaze on her. She blinked away. "Your sisters are-" her eyes widened when her
eyes landed on the twins themselves, "-on a bloody tree!"
*****
"Bloody tarnation! What are you two doing up there!" Benedict bellowed as he jumped
to his feet and trudged through the snow to get to the tree where his sisters were
perched. Their limbs were dangling in mid-air and they both looked rather terrified
yet determined at the same time. He looked up, ignoring Agatha's remark beside him
that he ought to calm down or the twins could lose their balance and fall down.
"Get back on the ground this very minute!" he ordered, pointing on the snowy
ground.
"Emma, Ysabella," Agatha said in an incongruous calmer voice, "Please do climb down
very carefully."
The twins looked at each other and winced. "Benedict, Agatha, we do have a
problem," Ysabella said, looking not at him but at Agatha. "We seem to have a bit
of a problem going down safely."
Benedict narrowed his eyes but his heart almost leaped out of his chest when Emma
moved and she struggled to keep her balance with a small yelp of panic.
"My Lord, do something," Agatha said beside him.
Did he just issue an order?
No matter, the twins' safety was of more import than his pride. He took a deep
breath and drew it out slowly, praying for a state of mind that was devoid of anger
and frustration. Mayhap there would be time for that later.
He took off his coat and threw it to Agatha. "My Lord, what are you doing?"
"Doing something," he retorted with sarcasm. "Dare not move, the two of you," he
ordered the twins who stiffly nodded.
"It seems that it gets higher the more I look down," Emma was saying in a lighter
tone that sounded too forced.
"Yes, I have to agree. You ought to believe we did not mean to go this high up,"
Ysabella seconded.
Benedict was focused on climbing the tree to get to the twins to focus on their
words.
"My Lord, I believe we ought to call for the footmen. Please, do not risk your own
safety."
"It is rather too late to be concerned, Miss Blair," he grunted through his teeth
as he took the last step to the branch the twins were sitting on.
"My Lord!" Agatha shouted with alarm when his left foot slipped. "I will call for
Peter at once."
"Stay where you are, Miss Blair. I can take care of this," he snapped over his
shoulder before he focused his attention on his two sisters. "Emma, come closer
very carefully."
Emma looked at Ysabella who nodded before she slowly scooted toward him. He held
out his hand and carefully guided Emma down. Her skirts made the trip down a tad
more difficult, but he eventually managed to bring his sister to safety. Agatha
immediately took Emma to the side and returned to where she had been anxiously
standing below Ysabella.
"Step aside, Miss Blair," he warned as he climbed the tree again. "One would not
consider it heroic if Ysabella falls upon you and you both hurt yourselves. That
would be considerably stupid."
"I can take stupidity any time of the day over utter conceit, my Lord." Her voice
was outright angry and boldly daring him for a retort. He'd not stoop to such level
of petty quarrels, as he had been doing so of late, at that moment. Instead he
concentrated on reaching Ysabella to ensure his sister's safety so she did not fall
and crush her stupid governess. "Come, Ysa, take my hand," he said calmly.
Ysabella's face was filled with hesitation. "I don't believe I can take it,
Benedict. My hands are shaking."
"You managed to reach this far and you are only shaking now? Don't look down. Look
into my eyes."
His sister closed her eyes tightly. "That would be scarier, Benedict, believe me."
"No," he said, shaking his head. "It would be scarier if you fall on the ground and
injure yourself. And I'll come to your room after your injuries were taken care
of."
"It is not the best time to throw threats, my Lord!" Agatha was shouting from
below.
"It is high time to keep your mouth shut, Miss Blaire, as you always did in the
past," he snapped back at her.
"Just get down, Ysa, it is not worth it," Emma uttered from somewhere. What were
his sister talking about? He frowned and looked at Ysabella's weary face.
"Ysa, come here," he said, his voice a good mixture of warning and encouragement.
Finally, his sister opened her eyes and nodded. He let out a breath when she
reached out to take his hand and he guided her closer toward him. Slowly, he gave
his sister instructions on which foot to use and where to land them.
Ysabella nearly made it to the ground when everything started to take a different
turn. Her right foot slipped and his sister began to panic, her control and
concentration flying out the hole above them. Her hands went frantic and grasped
his arm, causing her to fall back.
Benedict's reflexes were fast, thank God for it, and he was able to pull his sister
back and she hugged the trunk of the tree. His heart was frantically thumping
against his chest and he was just about to let out a breath of relief when he felt
that the branch he was holding was starting to give.
He thought he heard the three ladies scream before the fall, but that did no longer
matter for the pain came faster than their concerned sounds. He landed on his feet,
all right, but his right ankle twisted the other way and he slumped on his knees,
fell on the ground, and a cry of pain escaped his throat.
*****
Agatha came to Ysabella first after having assessed that Benedict was alive.
The young woman was hugging the tree while crying for Benedict. Emma joined her and
she ordered the girl to see to her brother. "Come, Ysabella, you are almost down."
"Oh, Benedict! I am so sorry!" Ysabella cried over her shoulder.
"Do not worry for him, Ysabella. He is alive," Agatha calmly uttered. "Do come
down. Yes, that's right. Slowly, dear, slowly. Take my hand."
From the corner of her eye she could see Emma bending over Benedict who was holding
his right ankle with one hand. "Will snow help numb the pain?" Emma was asking her
brother.
Agatha returned her attention to Ysabella, guiding the lady's final descend from
the tree. Ysabella, upon reaching the ground, hurried toward her brother.
"Benedict! Are you alright?"
"Get the footman," he ordered through gritted teeth, his face contorted with pain.
"Make that footmen," Agatha corrected, walking to the three Everard siblings. She
bent down to look at his leg, pulling his hand away from his ankle. A grunt of pain
escaped his lips. "Does that hurt?"
"Quite obvious, Miss Blair," he said breathlessly.
She nodded. "Don't move it." She looked around to look for something to help
immobilize his ankle. "Ysabella, Emma, get the footmen," she ordered. The two
ladies came to their feet and trudged through the snow to get to their carriage.
Agatha found two strong twigs and grabbed the napkins from their picnic basket. She
returned to Benedict's side.
"It is best if you do not attempt to be a doctor, Miss Blair," he snapped.
"I know what I am doing," she snapped back, slapping his protesting hands away.
"Hold these," she ordered, setting the two twigs on both sides of his ankle without
removing his boot. "Removing your boot may do more damage than good. Now, do bear
the pain," she warned before she started to tie one napkin around the base of his
boot to hold the twigs in place. Benedict let out a grunt but held still. Tying the
second napkin around the other end of the twigs, Agatha carefully managed to secure
his ankle.
Only after she felt satisfied she had done enough did she look up to check on his
face. He had gone pale and a grimace of pain was painted on his face. "Did I not
suggest the footmen?" she asked, shaking her head. "You really ought to prove
yourself a hero?"
His jaw tightened and she saw color flush his face once more. He was angry at her.
Well, he could not do much about it now, could he? He could not even run after her
if she kicked him now and run away with it.
She stood up and looked down at him, holding out her hand. "Can you try to stand?"
"No," he snapped.
Agatha shrugged and left him sitting on that snowy ground to go back to her
previous spot before she found the twins on the tree. After she found a comfortable
spot on the picnic cloth, she opened the basket and picked an apple from inside.
"Are you hungry?" she asked, her brows exaggeratedly cocked high.
"No," he snapped back again.
Agatha took a bite and completely ignored him. Where the bloody hell were the
twins? Her eyes returned to Benedict. He must be damp sitting in the snow. No, he
deserved it for being an arrogant arse, she thought.
"Is it the kiss?"
She choked on her apple and coughed. "Pardon?"
"Is it the kiss?" he repeated, his voice obviously curious and irked. "Why you are
suddenly like this."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"You have gone completely different after the kiss," he said, his eyes boring into
hers even from the distance.
Agatha had started to shake her head before he even finished. "I believe we had
already been arguing before you did what you did, my Lord. Please, let us not talk
about it."
"About the kiss?"
"Yes, about the kiss! God, why do you have to always bring the topic up at every
chance? Do you not feel guilty at all? I am sure your fiancée would want to hear
about it as well?"
The beast, instead of responding with animosity after she dared mention his future
bride, was looking relatively amused!
"There is naught to be amused about, my Lord!"
"Did you not like it?" He had the audacity to even frown with curiosity now? Why
did he want to know in the first place?
Furious at his arrogance and the amusement he found in mocking her, Agatha threw
the apple toward him without thought. He caught it with one hand and a corner of
his lips twitched. He was laughing at her.
Was it too late for her to think about leaving him out here in the cold to suffer?
Mayhap not, she thought.
"You are showing your true colors, Miss Blair," he pointed out, taking a bite from
the apple.
"Then stop aggravating me, my Lord, for you would not wish to see the rest of
them," she snapped, pulling at her spectacles that had gone misty to wipe them with
her skirt.
"What made you believe I would not wish to see the rest of them?" he asked.
Agatha stilled in her task, her eyes strongly fixed on her lap. "Because you will
wish you never knew," she murmured in response.

IX. The Doctor is In

The twins were greatly disappointed with each other. As they led the footmen back
to the clearing, Ysabella pulled Emma closer. "You ought to have jumped," she said.

"I was about to but Agatha saw us and I got scared."

"But it is a good thing Benedict did fall down," Ysabella said with a smile. "And
he's alive, of course, which is also good."
"He'd probably tell mother, Ysa. And they'll take us to Devonshire this time for
sure."
"But we still have time to call the doctor, do we not?"
Emma smiled at her sister conspiratorially. "Yes."
*****
Benedict could not seem to point out when it had started, but the governess had
grown bolder and daring.
Had she always thought him arrogant? Or had she always hated the sight of him?
He stole a glance at her direction and studied her face as she wiped her spectacles
clean with the top layer of her boring, grey skirts. Her brows were furrowed in
concentration. It seemed so that she found it more interesting than his current
condition.
"Where did you learn to do this?" he asked.
She did not look up. "Do what, my lord?"
"This thing you did with my ankle."
Her hands stilled and she finally looked up, her brown topaz eyes looking at him.
"My grandmother."
"Was she a doctor?"
A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "Not a soul would consider a woman, however
learned she is, an expert to anything that ought to only be practiced by men."
Benedict had to agree. Society was not yet ready to have a woman doctor. "Then what
was she?"
"My grandmother."
His brow twitched at her obvious derision. He was not ready to allow the woman the
satisfaction of having the last witty remark but the twins' sudden arrival with the
footmen stopped him from formulating the best response. Agatha jumped to her feet
and immediately ordered the two men to carry the lord back to the carriage. Before
he knew it, the governess had asked the twins to help her with the picnic blanket
and basket and they were on their way back to the Everard mansion.
*****
Doctor Johannes was young. Too young to be an expert, Benedict thought.
Was this the man the town had been talking so much about? A prodigy of medical
science?
"He is the best," Ysabella addressed Benedict but her eyes were on the doctor who
was standing awkwardly at the foot of the bed. The blonde doctor could have been
bad-looking in the eyes but no, he was utterly handsome. Even a fool would know the
reason why his two youngest sisters were gawking at the new doctor.
"Lady Estrild said that Doctor Johannes brought her husband back to life."
Benedict now had to question his sisters' mental states. His gaze returned to the
doctor.
"Lord Estrild has merely passed out after drowning two bottles of brandy, my
ladies," Doctor Johannes said in a voice that was even more devastatingly good for
the ears. "I did not bring him back to life. A bucket of water did."
"But he could be dead by now if you did not come when Lady Estrild called for you,"
Emma said loyally. "He would have been burnt alive in a burning ritual for everyone
had thought him did."
The doctor finally broke into a smile as he finally looked at the two Everard
ladies.
"Can the doctor now address my foot?" Benedict asked dryly.
Ysabella and Emma jumped and looked at Benedict apologetically. "Apologies,
brother," Ysabella said, "We must have missed your presence."
Emma jumped in her feet and whirled to the door. "Oh, I must have forgotten
something. I shall be right back." She stopped and turned to give the doctor a
short curtsy before disappearing.
Doctor Johannes cleared his throat and walked to Benedict's side. He set his bag on
the floor and asked, "May I, my lord?"
Benedict threw the doctor a look that said I-shall-have-your-arse-if-you-make-a-
mistake before he nodded. Ysabella stayed at the foot of the bed, looking
completely guilty as the doctor inspected Benedict's ankle.
It took a fine and sharp knife to tear his leather boot off his foot after they had
arrived earlier. Agatha had hovered over his valet, Silas, who had the unfortunate
task of taking the boot out, insisting that it was urgent the boot be taken off
before the swelling got worse.
And speaking of the governess, she appeared in his bedchamber with Emma. And it
appeared as though his sister had dragged the woman to his room.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded, making the doctor pause on his work to look
at the new arrival.
"I was thinking that mayhap Miss Blair could give the doctor a good recount on what
really happened earlier," Emma answered for her governess. "Doctor Johannes might
need to know how you fell off that tree. I had been standing a bit far and Ysabella
was hugging the trunk like candle holder to see. Miss Blair is the best witness and
she had so tremendously did a fine job with the cloth and the twigs."
It took only one look at Ysabella and Emma to know what they were up to.
They had planned this, he immediately thought. "I believe Doctor Johannes does not
need a full recount of how I fell."
But the doctor had straightened to full height and was regarding Agatha with a
curious look. "But I do, my lord," he said.
"I knew it!" Emma uttered excitedly, taking Agatha's hand and pulling her toward
the doctor. Agatha looked confused while the doctor looked too eager.
Hell and damnation! His sisters had managed to make something out of his accident!
"Doctor Johannes, this is our governess, Miss Agatha Blair."
Agatha curtsied at the doctor while the young man bowed courteously at her.
"Please, Miss Blair, do tell me how the accident occurred."
"I fell from the tree and twisted my ankle when I landed on both feet," Benedict
almost howled from the bed. He turned his gaze at Emma and Ysabella. "Had you both
forgotten that I could give the recount myself?"
Ysabella started to speak. "But you may have hit your head and you might not
remember what-"
Benedict narrowed his eyes at her and she halted her words.
"Lord Benedict twisted his ankle outward to the side," Agatha said, breaking the
silence. "I believe that is all you need to know, Doctor Johannes." Did she smile
at the doctor? Was that a bloody smile on her lips?
"I would appreciate if you examine my ankle now, Doctor Johannes," Benedict sternly
said.
"Of course, my lord. Thank you, Miss Blair. Your information is indeed much
appreciated." Benedict grunted with disapproval and in pain as the doctor touched
his foot.
"Careful!" he shouted, making his sisters and Agatha flinch.
"Hmm, your ankle is a bit swollen. Seeing that there is no wound and no apparent
sign that any bone has been-"
"Where did you come from, Doctor Johannes?" Benedict demanded.
The doctor stilled. "A town outside Wickhurst, my Lord," he answered, looking him
in the eye. "I have served the Theobalds for quite some time before I decided to
move here."
"The Theobalds."
"Yes."
"And what was the reason behind your change of address?"
"I merely needed a new environment."
He narrowed his eyes at the doctor.
"He is not a runaway criminal, Benedict. Do not interrogate the poor man," Ysabella
nearly exclaimed.
"His reputation precedes him, if you must know. You ought to read the Herald
often," Emma added.
He turned his attention to the three ladies standing before him. "What are the
three of you still doing here? Remove yourselves from my bedchamber."
"But Benedict, we want to-"
"Now, Ysabella, or I shall make the two of you my personal dose of laudanum. Get
out now!"
"There is no need to shout, my Lord," Agatha said sternly.
"I do not need your opinion, Miss Blair. Get out."
Agatha threw him a look of dissatisfaction and ire before she urged for the twins
to follow her out of the door.
The doctor opened his bag and put out a few things once they were alone. "Your
sisters had told me what their governess did after your fall, my lord. You must be
grateful she knew what she was doing or the swelling could be worse. There is great
need for me to apply adhesive plaister so as movement is not possible."
Benedict simply grunted in response.
The young doctor did not look very satisfied with his reply but proceeded to do his
task. He called for a maid to bring him hot water and the agonizing task of cutting
the soap plaister into long strips, soaking them in hot water and applying it near
the roots of his toes to cross over his instep. The process was done over and over
until half a dozen of the strips were consumed and the doctor started to apply half
a dozen more hot strips over his joint, overlapping the previous strips, securing
and compressing the joint. He applied more bandages over the plaister strips to
keep them in place.
When he was finally finished, the doctor straightened to full height and looked at
Benedict. There was no sign that the young lad was even intimidated by him. "I
shall give you something for the pain, but be certain that you keep your leg
elevated for a few more days. Until then, you must be able to move about. Once your
swelling subsides, the plaister will come loose. I shall return to remove it and
reapply another until I am certain your joint is fine. If you catch a fever, do
call for me at once."
He'd rather not. He'd call for the old doctor who had always cared for him and the
entire family. Who could be certain the man had done the right thing? His foot felt
stuffed with all the hot layers of strips! Whatever gave his sisters the right to
call for this one particular doctor was out of his imagination. Ah, but he knew why
the two brats called for this one and it irked him to full extent just thinking
about it.
"You will call for me if you catch a fever, yes?"
Benedict offered naught but a grunt. He'd rather face the old, wrinkly doctor.
*****
Agatha was standing outside Benedict's bedchamber when the doctor finally let
himself out. Ysabella pushed her toward the doctor for reasons she could not ken
for now. "Doctor Johannes," she uttered with a serious tone, pushing her spectacles
higher the bridge of her nose, "is his lordship fine?"
The doctor nodded with a small smile. Agatha heard the twins giggle behind her. She
could not blame them. The man was rather handsome. His blonde hair and thick brows
were his prominent features, and his eyes were probably the lightest shade of blue
she had seen in her lifetime and he used them in a way that was almost medicinal.
One would think in an instant that he was kind and his look would immediately
soothe any apprehension or anxiety. "He is quite...irked over the accident and his
temperament may get worse in the next days to come-" his statement was interrupted
by a groan from the twins and he shared a secretive smile with Agatha before he
continued "-but his ankle will be fine if he follows the instructions I provided."
"I am certain, doctor, that he will not follow them all," Agatha said and the twins
nodded with approval. "Would you be so kind to provide us with the same
instructions? Is a fever possible?"
The doctor nodded. "It might be so. Do call for me if he comes up with a fever. It
would not be a strong one, but I must check to make certain that it is merely a
slight reaction to his accident and not entirely caused by a complication."
The three ladies nodded. "Would you like to join us for tea, Doctor Johannes?"
Ysabella chirped in eagerly.
Agatha threw her a glance over her shoulder. "I think the doctor is quite busy,
Ysabella."
The doctor smiled. "Indeed, I am. As much as I would love to spend more time with
you, I am afraid a mother is expecting to give birth anytime soon and I have to be
ready when it happens. Do make sure that lord Everard does not miss a meal and stay
in bed." He bowed at Agatha and the twins. "Good day, ladies."
"We shall call for you at once if Benedict catches a slight fever," Emma said after
him.
"Or if he falls off his bed and acquires another injury!" Ysabella added.
Agatha frowned. The twins seemed most eager after the doctor had arrived yesterday
and even more so today. In fact, the first thing they did was call for him when
they arrived from the woods.
They are up to something, she concluded in silence.
*****
Sure enough, Benedict caught a fever the very next day and it was Silas, his valet,
who called for the butler who informed the twins. And it was the twins who called
for Agatha to come quick.
"What has happened?" she asked as she rushed in, her brows furrowed into a frown.
"Bloody hell, can I not get a proper rest around here?" Benedict growled weakly
from the bed.
"He caught the fever. I called for the doctor," Ysabella answered Agatha's
question.
Benedict was in a slight daze but he saw Agatha walk toward him, concern in her
eyes. She bent over him and he turned his head away when she made an attempt to
touch his forehead. "Please, there is no room for your pride at this time, my
lord," she uttered sternly and irritably. He felt her palm touch his forehead. "You
have a fever indeed. Silas, fetch some clean cloths and cold water. Jefferson, open
the windows and let the air in."
"But Miss Blair, do we not have to let his lordship sweat it out?" Silas asked.
"That will merely make him warmer," Agatha snapped. "Do as I say. And where is
Doctor Johannes?"
"On his way, Miss Blair."
"Whatever are you doing, Agatha?" another voice uttered incredulously. Was that
Charlotte, the housekeeper?
"I know what I am doing, Charlotte."
"You are no doctor!"
"And neither are you!"
"Agatha knows what she is doing, Charlotte," Emma said, her voice stern and
unexpectedly authoritative.
"Don't," Benedict managed to say. "Don't call...doctor."
"No, he must make certain that your ankle is fine," Agatha told him. "Silas, the
water!"
"Lady Alice shall hear of this, Agatha! And you will see yourself out of this
household once and for all!" Charlotte shouted. "I ought to send word for Lady
Frances. She is Lord Everard's future wife and she must know what to do-"
"Lady Frances know naught but stitch a flower on a napkin cloth!" Ysabella shouted.
"Remove yourself from my brother's bedchamber, Charlotte, and go back to your
tasks!"
Too much shouting, Benedict thought. Someone ought to give these ladies a beating
for being so loud.
Someone had opened the windows and almost immediately Benedict felt a tad better.
The fresh, cold air was better than the heavy, warm one that suffocated him. But
when the cold cloth was placed over his forehead, he almost shouted in pain. Too
cold, he thought.
"Bear it, my lord. It will help with the fever." Agatha's voice had gone soft,
almost soothing.
He grunted in response.
"Arrogant man," he heard her whisper.
*****
The doctor who came was the same young man his sisters called yesterday. He could
vaguely remember what had transpired, but he heard him assure his sisters and
Agatha that his ankle was fine and that the fever was merely a reaction to the
accident, a very common occurrence. He agreed on Agatha's uncommon practice of
providing fresh air and cold bath. Benedict was quite sure he also heard the
doctor's praises for Agatha's knowledge of medicine.
After the doctor had left, he had to suffer as Ysabella and Emma fret over him. His
sisters had to force a whole bowl of warm soup down his throat, each giving him
instructions on how to swallow the food as though he had also lost his ability to
eat.
Agatha saved him later that afternoon, telling the twins to have their supper
downstairs and take a rest. She stayed by his side without uttering a single word,
checking his temperature by hand and replacing the cold cloth every now and then.
The twins came back to check on Benedict before they retired to bed.
He knew Agatha stayed by his side and continued to care for him until the wee
hours.
By morning, his fever was gone and he opened his heavy lids to find Agatha asleep
in a winged chair beside his bed. Through the dimly lit room, her always tight and
neat auburn hair looked like a mess and she had dark circles under her eyes. Her
spectacles had slipped down her nose, reflecting the faint light from outside the
windows.
He could not believe that for a moment he thought her quite ravishing. He shook his
head and immediately stopped, feeling suddenly dizzy. He looked down at his foot
which was elevated by a pillow underneath. He ought to get out of bed or he'd die
with inactivity soon. He dragged his eyes back to the sleeping woman by his bed.
She must get proper rest in her own bedchamber. She had no duty to be caring for
him.
And where the bloody hell was his fiancée? Had no one gave her word?
Benedict let out a grunt as he tried to move and stopped as he heard a commotion
outside.
He groaned. What were Ysabella and Emma up to now?
But it was not the twins who burst into his room unannounced.
"What the bloody hell happened to you!" his brother, Maxwell demanded.
"Bloody hell, you look like a ghost. I thought Silas was merely jesting!" Nicholas
uttered with horror.
His attention was caught by a sudden movement in the corner of his eyes. Agatha had
stirred and was starting to wake up.
"And why is the governess in your bedchamber?" Ralph asked, having finally noticed
Agatha's presence.
Benedict groaned and rolled his eyes. It appeared so that his brothers had finally
come home from their hunting trip.

X. Hunting Brothers
Agatha jumped to her feet and almost fell onto Benedict due to her haste. The three
brothers had come home unannounced and it was apparent on their faces that they
were genuinely surprised to find her in their eldest brother's bedchamber.
And it was not merely surprise that was on their faces for they were also regarding
her with curiosity.
She had been around them many times in the past and although they were all quite
handsome, they each had distinct characteristics unique to each of them. Maxwell,
the third of the Everard children, seemed to always have a frown on his face,
pessimist that he was. He was also rather large but Levi, the absent one from this
gathering, was the biggest of all. Maxwell was probably the second biggest. Ralph,
as the youngest, had the same air as the twins and his eyes, which were slightly a
shade lighter than his brothers, seemed to always speak of malice. Nicholas, the
fourth brother, on the other hand, was the man a lady ought to be careful around.
His looks would tell anyone that he could be dangerous one moment and gentle the
next. Although for Agatha, Levi was the most handsome of the brothers, she could
say that Nicholas could be an equal if he only knew how to tame his hair.
"I suffered a fever yesterday and it was Miss Blair who watched over me for the
twins are banned from my chambers." Benedict's words broke her silent
ministrations. Did he just blatantly lie to his brothers in her presence? There was
not banishment of the twins from his bedchamber as far as she could remember.
Nicholas, a known seducer of ladies in the ton and famous for his unsolicited
curiosity, cocked his brows higher. "Banned? What had the two devils done now?"
"Please do excuse me, my lords," Agatha said with a curtsy before she briskly
walked, circling the three brothers, to walk out the door.
Her heart had not stopped pounding against her chest and she was desperate to
escape the room that was starting to feel suffocating. The brothers had come back.
Surely, it would mean she could finally be free of Benedict? Surely the twins would
rather choose their company now.
*****
Benedict opened his mouth to stop the governess but stopped himself. Had he gone
insane? Her presence was no longer needed.
His three brothers, all of them black-haired, waited until the governess was out of
earshot.
"Well? What had Ysa and Emma done?" Maxwell asked, walking over to the winged chair
Agatha vacated.
"They climbed on a tree in the woods. I had to rescue them back down on the ground.
I fell and twisted my ankle." He motioned at his inclined foot with one hand.
His brothers simultaneously turned their heads to look at his foot, their faces
without a tinge of sympathy.
"If you join us to our adventures, you would not have been too clumsy, brother,"
Nicholas commented, sitting on the end of bed.
"To what do I owe the honor of my brothers' presence here?" Benedict asked dryly.
"I was with the knowledge that you would all go straight to Devonshire for
Christmas."
Ralph, the sixth of the Everard after Margaret and the youngest of all brothers,
leaned against the wooden bedpost near his legs, twiddling with his fingers, said,
"Mother sent word that you are now engaged. To Lady Frances Highmore."
"Ah, so you decided to snoop around."
"I say, brother, where is your fiancée? Should she not be here? Instead of the
governess sitting at your bedside, should Lady Frances be here?" asked Maxwell
asked.
Benedict had the sudden urge to defend himself. He started to speak, "Miss Blair
had merely-" but Ralph's sudden laughter stopped his words.
"Max was not inquiring about the governess, brother, but Lady Frances."
"Why is there need for you to explain the presence of the servant but not the
absence of your fiancée?"
"Miss Blair is not a servant in this household. Governesses are not-"
"I say, brother, that you are enamoured by the lady-the governess, not the fiancée,
of course. Have you made the wrong proposal to the wrong lady, then?" Maxwell said,
a faint smile on his lips.
Benedict pushed away from his pillows and glared at his brother. "What do you mean
by the word 'enamoured'?"
Maxwell slanted away from him, hands in the air. "Mayhap enamoured is too strong a
word?"
"I say smitten is the right term," Ralph said from his spot by the bedpost.
"Besotted?" Nicholas added with a smirk.
"Remove yourselves from my chambers! I have no time to discuss irrelevant matters
with you lot!"
"Easy, Benedict, we were merely jesting," Ralph soothed, pushing away from the
bedpost. "Now, where are the two devils?"
"Probably still asleep as you may have missed to consider that it is still too
early to barge into anyone's private bedchamber," Benedict snapped.
"It was not so private when we came in, considering the governess was already here.
And should I say she looks rather different now than the last time we saw her?"
Ralph asked, his eyes provocative. Benedict glared.
Maxwell shook his head. "For someone who ought to be mellow after having decided to
marry into one of the richest families in Wickhurst, you are proving to be more
difficult than the last time we saw you."
"Which was months ago. Where have the three of you been?"
"Hunting, of course, as we have planned," Ralph answered. "We asked Levi to join us
but the man is too consumed with his new estate to bother with an adventure with
us."
"The mines had met a few problems while the three of you were away," Benedict
pointed out.
"Which, of course, have been solved by your ever capable hands," Nicholas said
dryly. "Now, shall we not see the twins?" he asked Maxwell and Ralph.
The three men started to walk to the door.
"While you make your presence known to those two, I would like you to bring them to
Devonshire the very next day," Benedict ordered before his brothers left.
They stopped and turned to look at him. "Why?" Ralph asked, aghast. Being the
closest in age to the twins, he had never been too fond of them. An hour with
Ysabella, Emma and Ralph in one room all to themselves could cause a big disaster.
"We were planning to stay for a few more days for a chance to meet your fiancée,"
Nicholas said.
"You leave the very next day. They are planning something that could utterly ruin
them this season."
"What plan?" Nicholas asked with a frown on his face.
Benedict hesitated. "They are at it again."
"What?" the three men chorused with impatience.
"Matchmaking."
Three pairs of brows furrowed into frowns. "Matchmaking?"
"Who? You? But are you not already engaged?" asked Maxwell.
"Not me. The governess and the doctor."
"But is he not too old for her?" Ralph queried.
"Not that old doctor. The new one in town."
"A younger one?"
Benedict nodded.
"I do not see anything wrong with a governess marrying a young doctor," Nicholas
said.
"Have you not heard what I said? Our sisters had just entered the season and the
first thing they did in the first ball they attended was disappear. I have had
reason to believe they were looking for a man to match their governess. If they had
not been found, and if they had been found with anyone they ought not to be
associated with in the first place, they would have been ruined. Now I am certain
that they are planning something that-"
"Brother," Maxwell interrupted, "I do not see a problem with a young doctor and the
governess marrying with the help of the twins."
"But their recent behaviours had been a pain in the arse that I would like for the
two of them to be at Devonshire."
"They do not like Devonshire."
"The very same reason why they had managed to make mother believe that Everard
mansion is a better punishment."
"I do not comprehend," Ralph admitted.
"Mother was to take them with her and Margaret but they managed to make our dear
innocent mother believe that they might enjoy their stay in Devonshire instead. To
punish them for what they had done in their first ball, mother decided to keep them
here with me. And not a week came by and this happened," he uttered, pointing at
his foot.
"Very well, if that is what you wish."
"But we are bringing the governess," Ralph hastily added. "I do not wish to spend
the journey with those two."
"You will not fit in one carriage," Benedict reasoned. "And Miss Blair had always
spent the Christmas season here."
Nicholas' brows rose higher. "You are saying the governess stays here with you." It
was not a question at all.
"Yes," Benedict answered matter-of-factly, daring his brothers to come up with a
witty remark.
The three men let it pass and simply shrugged.
*****
"Max! Nick! Ralph! What a lovely surprise!" Ysabella cried when she saw their three
brothers sitting around the breakfast table.
Emma stumbled in the room after her, her face that of glee. "Did you manage to kill
a bear this time?"
Ralph grimaced. "It is not a topic for young ladies, Emma."
"Why?" Emma asked, joining the three men in the table.
"Because you are a lady," Ralph pointed out, and added to Ysabella, "And so are
you."
"What have the two of you done in your first ball?" Maxwell asked, his tone
serious. He sipped from his cup of tea, regarding the both of them with suspicion.
"Benedict told you."
"We all love to hear your most recent scandals," Nicholas said with a smile.
"We merely got lost inside the library. Margaret panicked, so did Agatha and
Benedict reacted as he usually does without hearing our explanation. And did he
also tell you about Lady Frances? What do you think of her?" Ysabella asked.
"You may fool the rest of these brothers," Ralph said, swallowing his tea, "but you
cannot fool me. You just deliberately diverted the topic."
Maxwell did not look so pleased that Ralph was right. Ysabella threw her brother a
look. "And I was not referring to you when I asked the question, Ralph."
"Your opinion does not highly matter to us," Emma added.
"Oh, but it will, dear sisters, once you have suitors lining outside the doors."
"You will never interfere with any of our marriage prospects!" Ysabella roared over
her plate.
"I shall never marry! Having five brothers is enough to dissuade me," Emma
rebelled.
Ralph laughed. "We'll see. We'll see. Should I polish my hunting knives now?"
"You will not!"
"I could. What say you, Nick?"
"My pistols are quite ready as well," the elder brother answered, looking at the
twins as though they were to die as spinsters.
"Why don't you put those weapons in better use by threatening a lord to marry
Margaret instead?"
"It is Margaret's wish to remain unmarried, which is very fine with us," Maxwell
answered, clearing his throat. "But that is not what we ought to discuss this very
moment."
"Then what do you wish to discuss?"
"Have the servants prepare your things. The two of you are coming with us to
Devonshire on the morrow."
"What!" Ysabella and Emma chorused, a look of panic in their eyes.
"Big brother's orders, sisters," Ralph said, enjoying their horrified look. "He is
law."
*****
Not two hours had passed before Agatha found out about the twins' abrupt
displacement from the Everard mansion. Not a soul had missed Ysabella's cries of
outrage and Emma's whines when their three brothers made the announcement.
It was Nicholas who stopped the two from marching toward Benedict's bedchamber to
plead their case. Apparently, the three brothers had already conceded to the idea.
It was only when Agatha heard that the twins could depart the mansion on the morrow
did she realize that she'd be alone in the mansion with Benedict. Devastating was
the thought that came to mind. Without the twins, she was not certain she could
stomach Benedict's presence.
Why did she ever think she was in love with the bastard!
She ought to do something. She could not stay here alone with him. He either went
with his siblings or she went with the twins.
After debating with herself in her own chamber, Agatha found herself marching
toward Benedict Everard's room without prior announcement and barged inside without
knocking.
He was still in bed, reading a book.
His face registered his surprise upon her entrance. "What are you doing here?"
"I have received news that the twins are to be taken out of the mansion on the
morrow."
"Yes. You heard right."
"And are you going with them, my lord?"
The look he gave her was long and intense before he answered, "No."
She squared her shoulders and looked down at him through her spectacles. "Then I
wish to go with them."
"No."
"Why ever not, my lord? I am their governess and-"
"Your services are not needed until the season is over."
"But they will need my company on the journey-"
"They will be with my brothers-their brothers. Are you saying you are better than
them in protecting the twins if, by chance, something happens to them?" His voice
sounded bored, as though her concerns were too unimportant.
"But-"
"And you will not fit in one carriage."
"And so will they-"
"They shall be bringing the biggest carriage."
"But there are other carriages that we could all travel with two!"
"The other carriages are under repair. And we have another carriage immensely
damaged after the twins' display in the park last month."
"Are you deliberately giving me lousy excuses so I could not join them?" The
question stumbled out of her mouth before she could have time to think it over.
Regret, indeed, would always come last.
Benedict's face darkened. "Are you accusing me of something, Miss Blair?"
Since it was already too late to take her question back, Agatha squared her
shoulders and said, "Yes. I believe that you planned this because of the accident.
It was not the twins' mistake that you fell off that tree. I have told you, my
lord, that it was not a good idea to try to save them on your own. You have brought
this upon yourself."
"You are starting to prove to be painfully annoying with your honest opinions, Miss
Blair."
She did not know what to say to that remark. Ah, so he found her equally annoying!
Good for them both, was it not?
"The twins merely wanted to spend more time with you."
"And they told you that themselves?"
No, because that is a lie. I merely wish for them to stay or go with them if they
cannot. "In one way or another, yes."
Benedict scoffed and shook his head. "You do not have an inkling what they are up
to at all, do you, Miss Blair?"
"Whatever do you mean?"
"Or mayhap you do and you are greatly enjoying the benefits of their plans." His
tone was insulting but she felt she could not make herself angry enough if he did
not provide an explanation for it.
"Whatever do you mean, my lord?" she gritted through her teeth.
"They are planning to match you with the doctor, Miss Blair. Do not tell me you
have not noticed at all? If no, then I must confess I have regarded your intellect
a bit higher than I should have."
Ah, so there it was. And as she had predicted, the anger burst to full height and
her hands balled into fists. "Then I shall be packing my things as well."
He frowned. "Whatever do you mean?"
Agatha cocked an eyebrow. "If the twins shall depart, then I should too."
"And where will you go?"
"Somewhere there is no arrogant lord such as you. Do not worry, my lord, you can
expect my return the moment the twins arrive from Devonshire. Until then, do enjoy
your stay here."
With not another word, Agatha turned around and walked to the door.
"Miss Blair, we are not done talking!" he called after her. She pulled the door
open. "Miss Blair!" She took a step outside into the corridor. "Agatha Blair!"
Agatha smiled and walked away.

XI. The Runaway Governess

Agatha was standing by the door as the servants carried Ysabella and Emma's things
out of the estate to load into the carriage. She, too, had already finished
packing. As she stared at the twin's sombre faces, Agatha could not help but think
this was for the best.

Mayhap she indeed needed to get away from Wickhurst for a while before the Vicar
could finally find her in the mansion. He might still be looking for her and if she
left Wickhurst for a while, she might make him believe that she had fled once more.
"Do not look so wretched, dear sisters," Ralph, in his ever constant youthful
energy, said to his sisters as he neared them in his black frock coat. "It suits
you quite well," he added, taunting the twins as he always did.
Ysabella and Emma glared at him.
With a provoking grin, he clucked his tongue and shook his head. "I cannot believe
you have tried to bribe me into making you stay," he said. It was then that he
shifted his gaze to look at Agatha with mock surprise. "I should say, Miss Blair,
that you look...quite different from when I saw you last."
"It must be the spectacles, Lord Ralph," she answered in her practiced well-
modulated voice.
"This is not fair at all," Emma whined, causing Ralph to laugh and turn his
attention back to the two women standing sombrely by the entrance door.
"Nothing is fair to those who are wicked," Ralph told them.
"You are as wicked as anyone could be," Ysabella snapped at him.
"Ah, I know, but I do practice it with astounding modesty."
"Modest my arse, you wicked brute," Emma shot at him.
"Mind your words, Emma," Agatha warned. "It is not proper."
"But-"
"We are going," Maxwell announced, ending their discussion. "Ysabella, Emma, off to
the carriage."
"Max, can you not talk to-"
"I am not the right brother you can talk into asking Benedict to change his mind,
my dear," Maxwell interrupted. "We all know only Levi could do such thing."
"But Levi is not here!"
Ralph laughed. "Precisely the point, sister."
"We can send word for him-"
"He barely answers mother's letters," Maxwell reasoned. "But you could talk to
him."
"We could?"
Maxwell nodded. "Once you meet him at Devonshire for our Christmas party."
The faint hope that flickered in the twins' eyes slowly died down as disappointment
dawned. Ralph's laughter did not ease whatever the twins were feeling. In fact, it
made them huff out air and growl as they walked past Ralph after attempting to give
him a kick. Emma nearly missed, but it was Ysabella's blow that pulled a grunt from
Ralph.
"You devils, you will see who you're-"
Nicholas appeared just in time to pull Ralph back by the shoulder, saying, "They
will toast you alive before we reach Devonshire if you go after them."
Maxwell sighed and started to follow the twins. "This is going to be a very
challenging journey."
Nicholas pushed Ralph out the door and tipped his head in Agatha's direction before
following his siblings to the carriage.
"We shall be back soon, Agatha!" Ysabella said, poking her head out of the carriage
window while her brothers climbed inside. Emma joined her, saying, "Do not forget
to call the doctor to change the plaisters!"
As their carriage started to roll away, Agatha waved goodbye to the twins. She let
out a sigh. Benedict was right after all. They were planning something for her and
the doctor.
Well, that might have to be postponed until the two devils returned, for Agatha had
no intention of staying in Wickhurst until then.
*****
Silas, Benedict's ever loyal middle-aged valet, came to Agatha while she was in the
twins' schoolroom, arranging things before she left the estate.
"Miss Blair," the valet said in his formal voice. He was among the few servants,
including Jefferson and the chambermaid, Patsy, who regarded Agatha with respect.
"His lordship asks for your presence in his bedchambers."
"If his lordship wants to see me, he could very well go where I am on his own two
feet, Silas."
Silas cleared his throat and shifted in his feet, clearly uncomfortable now. Agatha
would not be so surprised if the man knew of her tainted relationship with the lord
of the manor. He was, after all, the valet. "As you may very well know, Miss Blair,
his lordship is not quite ready to be on his two feet."
"Then one would suffice if he is really determined to see me," she snapped, walking
away from the stack of books and facing the valet with a determined look on her
face.
Silas winced with discomfort. "I would appreciate if you come to his bedchamber
without a fuss, Miss Blair. He is currently quite not in the mood."
She huffed. "He always is. And so am I."
Desperation appeared on Silas' face. "Please, Miss Blair. He is really not in a
good mood."
"Then inform him I am gone. Left. Won't be back until the Christmas season is
over."
"But he will know I am lying."
Agatha smiled at Silas. "Then you better be a good liar then, Silas."
Silas raised his eyes to the ceiling and sighed. "Why do I have to be the bearer of
bad news all the time?"
Chuckling, Agatha walked up to Silas and patted his shoulder. "The best of luck,
dear man," she uttered before walking out of the schoolroom.
*****
"What the bloody hell do you mean by 'she is no longer in the mansion'?" Benedict
demanded from his winged chair. He had been confined in the dratted furniture, his
leg resting on a footrest for hours, enough to pull his foul mood to the extreme.
How could he let anyone do a simple task as grabbing the governess and drag her to
his chamber without doing it himself? Surely his name and a direct command from him
would be enough!
Silas grimaced and Benedict could clearly see the valet would rather be somewhere
else than where he was at the moment. "She insisted that I tell you she is no
longer in the mansion, my lord."
"Which, I am not stupid enough to believe considering you just left my chamber not
fifteen minutes ago to find her. And when you did, you came back to tell me she
told you she is no longer in residence."
"My lord, I insisted that she come."
"Did you ask her instead of demanding that she come here?"
"I asked her, my lord."
"Then you gave her reason to say no! You are proving to be incompetent, Silas."
"My lord, I beg your pardon, but Miss Blair seems to have already made up her mind
to leave. In fact, she has just called for Jefferson to call for a hackney."
"Hackney?" Benedict demanded, quite surprised that she was indeed planning to go.
"A hired carriage, my lord."
"I know what a bloody hackney is, Silas. Go get her before she leaves. Now!" He
added when Silas remained rooted in his spot.
"Now, Silas!" Silas jumped to his feet and walked out of his chamber. "Incompetent
bastard," he muttered to himself, throwing the book he was reading across the room.
"Arrogant chit," he added as Agatha's retreating back yesterday crossed his mind.
"How dare she." His eyes went to his foot and for a moment Benedict hesitated. "A
hackney," he fumed. "Where in the bloody hell does she think she can go with a
hackney and without companion?"
When his room remained silent and no sound came from behind his closed door,
Benedict called for Silas. When no answer came, he cursed under his breath. He
carefully reached for his crutch and brought his plaistered foot down and slowly
stood up, his full weight on his good leg. "Silas!" he called out once more. The
valet did not appear.
Fuming, Benedict limped toward his door and flung it open. "Silas!"
Jefferson was the first to run toward him. "My lord, you cannot go about just yet.
The doctor said that-"
"My foot is doing fine, Jefferson, but my patience is not. Where is Miss Blair?"
"She is gone, my lord."
"Tell me where is right now or you will find your arse out of the estate."
Jefferson went scarlet. "She is in a hackney as we speak, my lord. I am telling you
the truth."
"When did she leave?"
"Not five minutes past."
"And where is Silas?"
"In the kitchen, my lord."
"And why did he not return to tell me this when I asked him to get Miss Blair?"
"He looks quite pale, my lord. He does not know how to tell you-"
"Get my carriage."
"My lord?"
"My carriage, Jefferson!"
"Where will you be going, my lord?"
"To get that arrogant governess back here! Did anyone of you have the audacity to
wonder what could happen to a woman in a bloody hackney?"
Jefferson swallowed. "I have warned her of the possible danger that may befall her
if she went alone, my lord, but she would hear none of it."
"And where did she say she was going?"
Jefferson's face contorted with slight discomfort.
"Where is she going, Jefferson?"
"Willowfair, my lord." Willowfair was at the least two days away by carriage.
"Get my carriage."
"I could ask the footmen to go after her instead, my lord. It would take quite some
time to prepare your carriage as the wheels have not yet been attached after its
repairs yesterday."
"Get my carriage," he gritted out.
Jefferson nodded. "Right away, my lord."
*****
Her journey out of Wickhurst did not meet much of a problem save for one thing.
An old lady was travelling with her, which at first was a good idea for Agatha
could divide the cost of the journey with the lady, but despite their initial
agreement that they make a non-stop journey straight to Willowfair, the old woman
suddenly ordered the hackney to stop at an inn, claiming that her joints were in no
condition to travel for the rest of the night.
Agatha was already in haste by then for she had noticed another carriage following
close behind their hackney. It would not have been too suspicious but the condition
of the said carriage was far better than theirs and could have already surpassed
them on the road. Instead, the carriage's behaviour was almost close to following
them instead of traveling on its own.
She had gone restless when the old lady made her order known to the hackney driver
who immediately complied, agreeing that his horses would need to rest and eat as
well.
"But, sir, I have paid to be in Willowfair in less than two days," she insisted
when the old lady had gone inside the inn.
"Sorry, lassie. Ye can find 'nother hackney if you wishes so."
"Then would you be so kind to refund me the rest of my money?"
The driver laughed. "Sorry, lassie. No can do."
"Why ever not?"
"Me wife has them, see? Left them to that whore 'fore we left Wickhurst. Ye haf to
ger back if ye really wan'it."
"You are telling me you cannot give me my money back."
The driver laughed and led his horses to the stable. "Yer right, lassie!"
Agatha sighed. The carriage that had been following them drove by, driving so
slowly that it made the hairs on her nape stand up. She may not see through the
darkened windows of the carriage but she was certain someone was inside and he
could very well be the Vicar. The carriage did not stop and continued down the
road. Mayhap she had been wrong and it was but an innocent carriage after all.
She looked over her shoulder at the inn. If she could survive another night here,
she'd have to thank the drunkards below. But first, she ought to get a room with a
lock. Or a bolt.
*****
She could not sleep. How could she when all of her senses were in full alert,
fearing for the bad thing to happen? The wife of the tavern lord offered the best
accommodation for her, but it had but one lock and anyone could easily kick the
door open and grab her.
But the Vicar did not play by force. She never knew him to be a violent sort. But
he could be the most determined as well and he could play a situation into his
favor. Was his presence in Wickhurst not proof enough?
Agatha dared not turn off the lone lamp in her room. She had stolen the bread knife
from her supper earlier downstairs and took it to her room. She was holding the
same knife in her right hand as she waited for morning, sitting on her bed, her
back against the bed rest and her knees folded to her chest. She had put on her
spectacles to see better in the dimness of the room.
A small hole was visible from her window, meters away from the main road. The ray
of faint light, probably from the moon above, told her that morning was hours away.
Her lids were starting to get heavy. She fought them at first but it was soon
evident that she needed sleep for her head fell to the side as she fell into a deep
slumber.
Hours later, Agatha stirred with a frown and almost fell off the bed when she
jerked to full alert, realizing she had fallen asleep. It was only when the
pounding in her chest and ears began to wane did she realize that a different kind
of pounding was happening outside her door. She scrambled for her spectacles and
found the knife.
"Who is it?" she inquired, standing alone in the middle of her rented room,
barefooted and utterly vulnerable save for the little bread knife in her hand.
"Open the damn door, Miss Blair," Benedict Everard's voice said from behind the
door.
XII. The Haverstons
Agatha gasped and immediately came to the door. She flung it open, eyes widely
staring at Benedict's state. He was leaning on his crutches while his right leg was
slightly bent back, hanging inches off the floor.

"My Lord, what are you doing here? You should be in bed-"
"Would you care to put away the knife, Miss Blair?" His tone was tired and dry all
the same.
Agatha looked down at her hand holding the knife. She returned her gaze to his
face. "Not until you tell me what you are doing here," she retorted.
He let out a grunt and stepped inside her room, his crutches thudding the wooden
floors. Agatha stumbled backward, suddenly aware that she was in her nightdress.
She gasped when she realized how she was nearly naked in front of him. "Remove
yourself from my room, my lord," she uttered, her hand tightening around the knife,
the faint thought of using it against the bloody bastard started to turn into a
good idea in her mind. As he limped further in the middle of the room, Agatha
gritted her teeth and grabbed her traveling coat draped on the chair by the door.
She hastily put it on and slammed the door behind her before whirling around to
demand for the reason of his presence.
But before she could even move her lips or form the words in her head, Benedict
spoke, "Where the bloody hell do you think you are going?" His scarred face was
contorted with incredulity and confusion.
"I have told Jefferson where I plan to go, my lord, and that is Willowfair." His
eyes were intensely looking at her as if he wanted to cut her into half and ravish
her all the same. Whichever came first, the ravishing or the cutting, did matter
very little because Agatha would have none of it.
"Get your things, make yourself decent, and go below stairs to the carriage. You
are coming back to the mansion with me."
Agatha refused to move. She held her breath and met his gaze with fury.
Benedict's face twitched and along with it were his scars. He cocked his brows
high. "Well? Move along, Miss Blair, I don't have all the time." He started to move
to the door, leaning on his crutches.
Agatha's eyes stung with angry tears. She hated him so much she could stab him with
the knife and escape murder without a tinge of remorse. Truly, she was starting to
believe that love was the best fuel for hate. "I did not ask you to come for me."
He paused. "What did you say?"
"I said, my lord," she repeated in a shaky voice, "I did not ask you to come for
me."
"Do not make me repeat my order, Miss Blair. Gather your things at once and-"
"You have so indignantly slapped in my face that my services are not needed until
the Christmas season is over. I do not have to return to Wickhurst until then." She
knew he was looking at her in disbelief but she willed her eyes over his shoulders
at the window and the faint light beyond the panes.
"You are not traveling alone-"
Her hands balled into fists. She closed her eyes and cried out, "Do stop with your
worthless excuses! I've had quite enough of them!" Utter silence followed her shout
and when she finally opened her eyes, she saw that she had someone rendered him
speechless. Nose flaring with her contained fear since last night and his
unexpected intrusions in her plans, she said, "You must have forgotten, my lord,
that I was a servant before I came to your employment. I have travelled days on my
own and walked the streets to do errands with no companion. I am more of an expert
than you or any other gentries on the road. If by chance that your unwanted
presence here is brought about by any concern for me, then it is misplaced. There
is no need for you to be concerned at all."
"But your services is still needed," he uttered in a surprisingly calm voice that
nearly sent Agatha stumbling back in surprise.
She sent him a perplexed look. "You sent the twins to Devonshire. Do not tell me
that-"
"I am speaking of a different service, Blair," he snapped. His patience was short-
lived as usual. And he called her Blair. Was he trying to woo her to a different
employment or provoke her further? Agatha would wager on the latter.
"What service are you talking about?"
"To be my secretary while I recuperate."
"Your secretary."
He blinked repeatedly. "I have many things to do before I leave for Devonshire."
"What sort of things?"
"The usual."
"What usual things?"
A flicker of annoyance crossed his emerald eyes. "Missives, reports, charts-those
usual things."
Agatha frowned at him. Then her gaze intently travelled from his face down to his
hands and to his injured foot and back to his face. "If my sight does not fool me,
my lord, you have injured your foot, not your hands. You could do all those usual
things on your own without the aid of your foot."
His jaw tightened. "The doctor-"
"-did not say you cannot take your work to your own bedchamber while you recuperate
and I am certain he did not see how your injury could affect your aptitude in
writing. Unless you have always written with your right foot, you do not need a
secretary." Deciding that their conversation was over, Agatha padded to the bed and
picked up her boots. "I'd appreciate if you remove yourself from my room the very
moment your legs and crutches would allow it, my lord."
"You are really going to Willowfair?"
"Yes." She laced up her boots with restless hands, finding it hard to concentrate
on the task at hand with his domineering silence emanating throughout the room.
"The hackney driver must already be waiting for me." She grabbed her portmanteau
and straightened the moment she was done. She cared not that she was in her
nightdress underneath her coat. If he would not leave, then she would. "Goodbye, my
lord. I shall see you after the holidays."
In one big motion with his crutches and one good leg, Benedict blocked her path.
Agatha drew in a deep breath and sighed with frustration. "What is it now?"
"Your hackney had already left."
She frowned. "What the bloody hell do you mean it already left?"
The corner of his lips flinched into a smile only he could manage and the arrogant,
triumphant glint in his green eyes confirmed her fears.
"You did not!"
He tipped his head to the side with another twitch of his lips. "I did."
"You...you scheming, callous, pompous bastard!"
"I was merely trying to protect you from your own reckless and impetuous decisions,
Blair."
"And you have no right to do so! You are but merely my employer!"
"And I reserve the right to see that those under my employ follow my orders and you
are-"
"-your servant?" she interrupted, daring him to agree so she could slap him. She
ought to not have left the knife on the bed for it would not hurt to add a small
scar on his face at the moment.
His jaw tightened. In her anger, her eyes had watered and she hastily wiped the
tears that threated to come out with the back of her hand. But he was right. She
may call herself a tutor or a governess, but the fact still remained that she was
and always will remain a servant in the eyes of people like Benedict Harold Morgan
Everard, the Lord of Devonshire.
"You are not a servant." His cold voice said, breaking the silence.
"But I am, my lord. You have just said as much. But I am not like other servants
for I have worked my arse to become a governess so I could enjoy the privileges
that come with it. One of which is to have a time off for myself when my services
are not needed."
"And where will you find another hackney?"
Blast it. Blast him to damnation!
Agatha took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Very well, if she could not
find a hackney sooner, she'd find another ride then. "You shall offer it to me."
"What?"
"Your carriage, my lord."
"Blood hell I will!"
"Bloody hell you will! I have already paid for my ride in full and I will not have
it go to waste! You had the gall to interfere with my plans and now you shall pay
for it." She whirled to the door and started to walk toward it. "Now, either you
stay here and wait for your carriage to return from Willowfair or you ride with
me."
Benedict Everard appeared as though he was ready to explode.
"Do decide quickly, my lord, for I do not have all the time," she snapped before
she pulled the door open and left him.
*****
Agatha stormed out of the tavern with her chin held high, stopping by pick up the
basket of food she had ordered to be made available by the morning from the owner,
and marched to the awaiting carriage of Benedict Everard. The footman offered a
hesitant greeting when she pulled the door open, threw her portmanteau inside and
climbed the carriage without a word, settling her basket of food beside her.
"Please do go to your master and assist the poor bastard down the stairs," she said
to the footman who was anxiously staring at the entrance of the tavern, waiting for
his master. "We do not want another injury if he falls down the stairs."
The footman immediately snapped to attention and ran inside the tavern. Moment
later, Benedict's scowling face marched outside, his crutches digging into the
stony ground. The lamps outside the tavern were enough to show his fury.
"Don't touch me!" he shouted at the footman when the man attempted to assist him
into the carriage. Agatha remained stiff in her seat while he struggled to free
himself of his crutches which he threw on the floor of the carriage, hitting her
portmanteau and clambered inside to settle in the opposite seat from her. Agatha
turned to the footman and said, "Straight to Willowfair, please." She then turned
her eyes to Benedict, daring him to contradict her orders. Without looking down,
she kicked his clutches off her portmanteau, nearly hitting his injured foot.
The footman remained standing outside as she and the lord of the manor battled with
their gazes-her fiery topaz brown eyes against his raging emerald ones. The poor
footman cleared his throat, unsure whether he should follow her commands. "My
lord?" he asked, looking warily at Benedict.
Without taking his eyes from hers, Benedict said, "You heard the woman. Straight to
Willowfair."
*****
Their journey was both a pain in the arse and an exhausting one. To travel for
another full day and one night to reach Willowfair was excruciating at best.
Benedict could not figure out how in bloody tarnation the woman had successfully
forced him to follow her orders in such a manner that people in her station would
find utterly abhorrent. He was the bloody lord and she had defied him in every
possible way!
And yet he allowed her to take command of his carriage and drive her to the
destination he had tried to stop her from reaching in the first place. And he
bloody went with her.
His brothers would laugh at his face if they found out and his sisters would gawk
at him in disbelief. His mother might probably faint.
He rested his leg on the empty space beside her seat and had to suffer the bumpy
parts of the road to Willowfair. Never, not even once, did she feign any concern to
his wellbeing except when she offered him a piece of bread. Much to his horror, for
he had not prepared himself for such a long journey, she had to force the food into
his hand, saying it would be a scandal if she arrived to Willowfair with a one-
footed corpse. Apart from her offer of food, she sat through the journey without
moving from her seat.
He had caught her anxiously looking out the window time and time again, but despite
his curiosities, he did not dare inquire about it. He knew Agatha Blair was keeping
a secret, but that was a topic he'd rather discuss with two good feet.
Only once did he see her fall asleep. And even then she managed to do so without
falling over.
The carriage stopped only once and it was when the footman had to inquire where
they should proceed. Sunlight was already streaming through the distant holes
surrounding Willowfair. "Mary House," was Agatha's simple and curt reply.
Benedict froze. "It's a bloody gentlemen's club, Blair."
"That, it is. And it is where I shall stay."
"Don't you have-"
"Family? No," she retorted, facing the window as the carriage started to move. "The
Haverstons are my only family."
It was a surprise that he was surprised she had no family. It had never even
crossed his mind to ask if she had one at all. "But the Haverstons do not live in
the Mary House."
"Yes, but they do go there almost daily."
"It is owned by Mary Haverston who lives in Oakham if my recollection is correct."
"Yes."
"Then why are not we headed that way?"
"Because I do not wish to go there."
He'd never get a good answer from this woman, would he? Not ever.
By the time they reached the Mary House, the butler opened the doors for Agatha who
left Benedict to fend for himself. The surprise on the butler's face was apparent
and the curious glance he threw Benedict as he struggled toward them in his
crutches was not missed as well.
"Agatha!"
"Hello, Timmy," Agatha said, breaking into a smile.
Benedict's face darkened as he witnessed the complete change on her face. She
looked bloody beautiful and he hated it. Where was the brooding woman he had been
traveling with?
To make it worse, Timmy opened the doors of the club wider and shouted, "My lady!
My lady! You have a visitor!" as he disappeared to somewhere. A gentleman passed by
on his way to a large gaming room just across the hall and he spotted Agatha.
"Agatha!"
"Lord Preston," she said, giving a short curtsy.
"Fancy seeing you," the lord said before he continued on his path.
Agatha turned to face him, portmanteau in hand and said, "You can now take your
leave, my lord. I no longer have a need of your carriage." She started to enter the
hallway then.
Now he could not simply let her have the satisfaction now that she got what she
wanted, could he? No, that would not do at all. "The hell I will," he uttered under
his breath, struggling to move forward, racing to the hallway before her. With a
light smirk, he turned to her and said, "I shall leave the hour I feel like
leaving, Blair."
Her mouth dropped open but the sound of hurried footsteps coming from the staircase
stole whatever she was about to say.
"Agatha! Oh my goodness, what a surprise!" said the black-haired lady coming toward
Agatha with arms wide open. Ignoring Benedict, Mary Haverston pulled Agatha in her
arms. "What a lovely, lovely surprise!"
Benedict's brow cocked with curiosity. He had never met any lady who would regard a
governess with such warmth.
"Ah, the ever famous Agatha Blair," a deep, baritone voice said from behind.
Benedict turned and found Adrien Haverston leaning against the doorway of what
appeared to be the kitchen, his hands in the pockets of his trousers, his legs
crossed. "To whom do I owe this honor of your bloody presence in the club, you
little devil?"
Benedict's jaw tightened at the words the man used toward Agatha but the laughter
that came from both women told him he had missed a different sort of connection
between the three.
"You are looking rather well, my lord, but I must say you are getting old-so are
your jests," Agatha said to him with a mocking curtsy.
Adrien shook his head and sighed. And then his eyes finally landed on Benedict.
They rounded as he finally recognized the man standing on crutches a few paces away
from Agatha and his wife. "What the bloody hell happened to you, Everard!"
It was then that his wife also noticed his presence and she gasped in surprise.
"Why are you here, Lord Everard?"
Benedict's lips thinned. That was not the welcome he had expected.

XIII. The Servant

"I was expecting that you would return her to us within a fortnight, honestly,"
Adrien Haverston confided bemusedly. He walked over to Benedict and handed him the
glass of brandy.

"Why did you think so?"

Haverston stared at him, astounded. "Were you not at all curious?"
"About what?"
His companion shook his head. "Mayhap she did grow to be prim and proper after
learning a few things."
"Do you mean that-"
"Agatha Blair was not like any ordinary servant, Everard." Haverston's narrowed at
a somewhat distasteful memory. "She had the gall to tell me to my face that she
could no longer stomach being employed by me."
If he had heard that months before now, Benedict would say Haverston was talking
about a different woman. Now, he did not find it hard to believe at all.
"She stormed into my office and announced that she was leaving when Mary and I had
a bit of a squabble."
"And did she leave?"
"Of course, she did. She did not even bother to receive the rest of her salary.
Came straight to the Mary House to serve her mistress."
"If she were that loyal to your wife, I am at awe that she even left her at all."
"Oh, it was Mary's idea that she finds a much better employment. My wife did not
teach her to write and read for nothing."
So it was Mary Haverston who taught her.
"I am telling you, Everard, you have yourself one hard-headed governess." Haverston
turned thoughtful after he said that and tipped his head to the side with an amused
look on his face. "But it seemed she is doing rather well. She is quite intelligent
for her age. I dare say too intelligent, as a matter of fact." He sighed and sat on
the chaise. "By the by, she is loyal and she is honourable. She never gossiped as
well. So do not worry about her being too prideful. It is about time The Town rear
women to speak their minds after all."
Benedict's brows cocked high at the unexpected statement from a man with high
societal standing. If Adrien Haverston had said it in the presence of the ton, he
could very well be banished, perhaps not just out of Willowfair but aboveground as
he had heard rumors say.
"Will you be staying in Willowfair or did you simply deliver Agatha?"
Haverston was staring at him oddly and he wondered why. "Mayhap, if you do have a
room to spare, I'd be much grateful. I regret that I have not prepared for a longer
stay. If I did, I would have found an apartment."
"The Mary House do have another room to spare. But Oakham is also very much ready
to welcome you."
"I will not be staying long. Mayhap a day or two. I need a bit of time to rest."
"Mary House it is then. A better choice, I tell you. You will not want to meet my
son just yet. He is at the age where everything is either very interesting or
disgusting."
Benedict's lips twitched. "I understand the sentiments, Haverston. I have seven
siblings, most of them act as though everything is either very interesting or
disgusting."
Haverston laughed out loud. "I say, Everard, the ton has been wrong about you. You
do have a sense of humor."
He frowned. "I was not trying to be funny. I stated a fact."
"Which was funny." Adrien jumped to his feet. "We should go and find Mary and tell
her about your stay in the club."
Benedict paused from the act of standing up. "If Miss Blair is staying in the club
as well, I am afraid I cannot take the chamber-"
Adrien waved off the rest of his words with one hand. "She will have a fit if we
offer her the private chambers. She always stays with the other servants."
"But she is-"
"It is what she had always wanted. Says it's what she is used to. And they are her
friends. Which reminds me-you might want to plug your ears tonight. They talk a
lot."
*****
They were inside Mary Haverston's private office of the Mary House discussing
Mary's second child, Leonard, whom she gave birth to one year past and of course,
their firstborn Ernest who was proving to be more like his father as days passed.
"He recently declared that he would like to be his father," Mary said, shaking her
head. "I do not know if I ought to be happy or worried."
"Lord Adrien may have been a rake in the past, my lady, but he is no longer that
man after he married you. I am among who witnessed the change in him from the
moment you stepped into Oakham."
Mary smiled cringed. "I cannot still look back on that first day and feel happy
about it, honestly." And then she smiled warmly. "But mayhap you are right. It is
not as if I was a perfect lady as well," she said, taking Agatha's hand. "But
enough of us. I wish to know more about you. Tell me more about the Everards. Are
they as loud and crazy as Belinda had said?" Mary asked her, the excitement in her
previous mistress' eyes contagious.
She smiled, Ysabella and Emma's faces flashing in her mind. Nodding, she confided,
"Worse, actually."
"You must be jesting. Surely they are not."
"Oh, but they are, Lady Mary. Save from Lord Benedict and probably Levi, the rest
are utterly wicked. Margaret is quite behaved most days but she keeps a lot of
wickedness in her as well, most especially if her friend, Tori, is about."
"And the twins?"
Agatha chuckled. "They are the worst. They do like matchmaking."
"Belinda said so," Mary said with an amused smile. "I do still remember that wicked
letter they sent Mac, urging him to rescue Belinda from a wedding which, of course,
turned out to be a sham."
Agatha chuckled. She had heard the twins boast about that too many times. "I am
their latest venture."
Mary's eyes widened. "With whom?"
"A new doctor in town."
A slow, wicked smile rarely worn by Mary Featherton-Haverston crept in as she
narrowed her eyes at Agatha. "You had told me once, Agatha, that you wish to be
married to a respectable, learned individual. A doctor is not a bad choice. Does he
express interest?"
She rolled her eyes. "We have hardly talked at all for me to even know, my lady."
"Is he handsome?"
Agatha blinked in surprise. She did not expect her former mistress to ask such
thing. "Well, yes, he is."
"Would you consider him as your husband?"
Pursing her lips, she considered the matter. Doctor Johannes was well-mannered,
soft-spoken and obviously intelligent. He was not arrogant, nor did he show any
sign that he was capable of being one. Slowly, she nodded her head. "If he proves
to be someone I hope for in a husband, why ever not?"
"Talking about husbands now, aren't we, Agatha? My, my, I forgot you are almost
past the age," Adrien Haverston's voice asked behind them. The two ladies whirled
in their seats and found him standing in the open doorway of Mary's private office.
And beside him was Benedict himself.
His eyes were on her, his face hard and forbidding. He heard, she thought.
Did he find it so grim and revolting that a servant was thinking of marrying a
gentleman above her station? Was his arrogance that extreme that he found the idea
abhorrent?
"She has every right to have one as any other ladies of different stations, Adrien.
And you are correct. She is almost past the age of marrying. Even the more reason
for her to hurry," Mary was saying to her husband, standing up to walk to her
husband. "Would you be staying with us, Lord Everard?" she asked.
"I did offer a room in Oakham, but he refused," Adrien answered, taking his wife's
hand to pull her closer. "He shall take the private chamber here in the Mary House
instead."
Agatha stiffened, her eyes flying back toward Benedict's.
"Well, if that is what he wishes. Agatha would not take the private chamber. Until
when are you planning to stay, my lord?"
"Until I've had enough time to rest and prepare for a journey back home," he
answered, finally tearing his eyes off Agatha to look at Mary. "I am afraid my foot
would need more attention."
Husband and wife looked down at his injury. Mary shook her head and uttered,
"Agatha told me how you acquired your injury and I must say, my lord, that you were
lucky she was there. She does have a gift in medicine."
Benedict's green eyes came back to stare at her. "I believe she does."
"Why don't we have dinner here? It is a good time to prepare a sumptuous meal after
a long time!" Mary said to Adrien. "Do go home and fetch the children. I am certain
Ernest would want to see Agatha again."
"But of course, it is a great honor to do your command, my love," Adrien said in a
teasing tone.
"Quit it, husband. Do not mock me," his wife retorted with a scolding voice. "Do be
quick. And do not forget the nurse this time. The last time you took Leonard out,
you left the poor lady behind to chase after the carriage."
"I hope the time will come that you will allow me to forget about that, love."
Adrien gave his wife a mocking bow and a smirk before walking away to do her
bidding. Mary then turned to Benedict and suggested that he used her office with
comfort while she oversaw preparation for dinner.
"Allow me to assist you, my lady," Agatha insisted but Mary shook her head.
Clucking her tongue, Mary Haverston eyed her and said, "When will you ever stop
thinking you are no longer a servant, Agatha?"
"But-"
"No. You are my guest here. Unless you decide to go back and become Ernest's
governess, you are a guest."
Agatha smiled. "Very well. If that is your wish, my lady."
"Now, it was not so hard, was it?" Mary turned to Benedict who was now sitting on
the chaise and curtsied. "I will be back after I am done. Do enjoy a short respite,
the two of you." Seeing Agatha's hesitation, Mary added, "I shall leave the door
open. Do call for Timmy if you need him."
*****
Benedict let the silence linger a little longer. Agatha turned away to study the
wide shelf of books behind Mary Haverston's desk. He studied her, trying to imagine
how such two different personalities could fit into that one, slender form of a
woman.
He had known her to be the stiff, boring and dry governess to his sisters. Her
dresses had always been of the same hue, her hair always tightly made up that it
was like a second skin. She rarely smiled or laughed.
Although still wore her hair and dressed in the same manner now, he knew there was
something more in her for he had seen it with his own eyes. And she had recently
shown a different part of her. Had she always been that woman? Had she always been
too opinionated, too arrogant and too fiery? Adrien Haverston had said as much.
"So tell me, Blair," he said easily from the chaise where his injured leg was also
propped. She turned to stare at him, her face unreadable. "Which is you?"
She frowned. "Whatever do you mean by that question?" She stood from across the
room and he noticed that she had managed to change into one of her grey dresses.
"Were you really always this opinionated and proud and I had simply missed it? Is
the silent, boring Agatha Blair all just a schooled version?"
"Can I not be both?"
Was she? Benedict lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "Please, do tell."
She assessed him for a long time. It was one of her looks he knew where she would
stare at him as though she was counting every scar on his face. "My life had been
very different before I came to Willowfair and worked for Lord Adrien in Oakham, my
lord. If you are asking who I really am, I am afraid I cannot tell you for I had
long chosen to forget the person I was before I met the Haverstons." She blinked
away to look out the faint lights outside the window. He waited until she returned
her gaze to his and said, "But if you are asking which I am between the opinionated
and the refined woman, I cannot really say. What I can say though is that I had
found a different voice when I learned how to read and write. And I discovered
knowledge and many other things."
"So the opinionated Agatha was first before the refined one."
She shrugged and turned away to face the books once more. "I can say I was more
behaved before I learned to read and write."
"So the rebellious nature came later."
Her head snapped over her shoulder to glare at him. "Rebellious?"
"Adrien thinks you were quite rebellious. He said you haughtily left his employ
when you felt he did something wrong. I would call that rebellious indeed."
She scoffed. "He did something utterly stupid that broke both his and Lady Mary's
heart many years ago. I could no longer stand idle and watch him destroy himself
while knowing he was also destroying her. I had to choose who I wanted to comfort
and I chose his wife. I owe my life to her." She paused before adding, "And Lord
Adrien was indeed stupid that time."
Benedict was curious what happened those years ago between Adrien Haverston and his
wife, but he was certain Agatha would never disclose more details of the couple's
private life.
"Not that I think of it," she was saying while still facing the shelf and absently
touching the spines of the books with one hand, "the opinionated Agatha is the
servant Agatha. The schooled one is the governess Agatha."
He was quiet for a while, just staring at her back. "Come back to Wickhurst with
me, Blair."
He saw her stiffen. "No."
"Why?"
"Because I wish to stay here."
"The very reason you are here is because you merely wanted to prove a point that
you could defy me. You did and you ought to be content. But I will not let you stay
here merely because you are avoiding me."
That finally made her turn around, a different fire now blazing in her eyes. "That
is not true."
"It is. Admit it," he said, satisfied that the mere fact she was furious proved he
was right. "Have you not told me we ought to forget about the kiss? But why are you
avoiding me still?"
Her eyes widened and it flew to the open doorway. "Shh!" She stormed toward him,
hands balled to her sides. "I am avoiding you because I cannot stomach to be in
your presence!"
"Why?"
"Because of this," she said, pointing at the floor. "Can I not spend a moment
without having you provoking me in every way? Have we not lived in each other's
presence in silence, ignoring each other as we did for more than a year now? I
surely did appreciate that sort of arrangement, if you must know. What I do not
like is why it has to suddenly change into this."
Benedict fell silent. Why and how did it begin to turn into this in the first
place? It seemed too long ago if he thought about it,
But he knew when it had started.
It was on that day they went to Madam Vernice and he saw a hint of who she really
was. It was that afternoon he bought her the spectacles. It was that night he
kissed her in the ball.
How in the bloody hell did he let it go this far? How in the bloody hell did he let
himself lose his own sanity and went after her when she left Wickhurst when she had
every right to do so? Why in the bloody hell was he here in Willowfair?
"No retort, my lord?" she asked.
"Do not provoke me, Blair," he warned.
She shook her head and muttered, "Good thing you are going back home."
He did not answer, nor did he stop her when she turned in her heels and went back
to the books. He watched her pull out a book and studied its contents, head bent.
And then he found himself thinking of another way to engage her into a conversation
or a fight.
What the bloody hell was wrong with him?
You like the servant Agatha more, you idiot, his mind answered for him.

XIV. Callers
Their dinner started not as ordinary as Benedict may have expected. It was not what
he was used to for it involved all the servants around the table. It seemed that
Mary Haverston did things differently around her club. The lords in the gaming hall
were not privy to their feast in the kitchen.

The two children were almost as loud as the drunken men in the hall. The youngest,
Leonard, wailed at almost every turn save when he was in his father's arms, which
made dinner for Adrien a tad more challenging. Ernest, on the other hand, would not
leave Agatha's side, insisting that he had more stories to tell her. It seemed that
his cousins had shared a lot of stories for he had stolen Agatha's entire evening
all to himself, talking over his food as though he was not the son of one of the
most influential families in Willowfair.
But it seemed, Benedict had started to believe, that the Haverstons had decided to
break every bloody societal standard in the Mary House. It was a shock to witness
such display. There was no order at all. The servants sat around the table and ate
their food with comfort as though they were one with their masters. They talked and
gossiped as they would in the kitchen or their own quarters. Adrien and Mary
Haverston ate and talked to him as though they did it every day, ignorant of the
ruckus around them.
"There are no specific rules of decorum in the Mary House in a rare occasion such
as this," Agatha whispered beside him when Ernest finally climbed off his chair and
went to his mother, begging for another slice of cake.
"It is rather obvious," he murmured back.
"But after such meal, everyone goes back to their roles. A time like this is what
Lady Mary would call a 'respite'. It was hard for us to get used to when she first
thought of it, but we eventually did, most especially when Lord Adrien got
frustrated that no one would sit around the table with them."
"It is odd," he said, looking at her from the corner of his eyes.
"Say, Agatha," Timothy, the butler, said out loud from across the table, "have you
met your uncle?"
Benedict frowned. She had said she had no family. He turned his head to find Agatha
with furrowed brows. "Uncle?"
"Ah, yes, I almost forgot!" Mary piped in while Ernest tugged at her hand from the
floor, still asking for his cake. "Your uncle, the vicar, came by not two weeks
ago." Agatha froze beside Benedict. "I did not know you mentioned an uncle-and a
vicar at that! By the by, I told him I cannot tell him where you were for I have to
ask your permission first. I did send you a missive inquiring about it but I guess
it got lost. I was meaning to send you another one in case you have missed it."
Agatha dropped her fork and it cluttered on her plate.
"Agatha?" Mary asked with a frown.
She had gone stiff and pale.
Benedict reached for her hand under the table and squeezed it. "Blair," he uttered
warily. Everyone's eyes were now focused on her. "Blair, are you alright?"
She finally blinked and jerked in her seat. "I...I suddenly don't feel so well."
She frowned down at her food. "It must have been the weariness of the travel."
She pulled her hand out of his grasp and lifted it to touch her temple. They were
shaking.
"You must rest. We did have a long journey," he said, looking at Mary, adding, "She
barely had any sleep."
Mary's face was sceptical and filled with worry as she studied Agatha. She finally
nodded and said, "You ought to rest, Agatha. Daisy, assist Agatha to her room."
A petite woman stood from her seat and hurried to Agatha.
Benedict grabbed her arm and whispered, "Are you certain you are alright?"
She nodded and forced a smile on her face. "Yes. I just need some sleep." And
loudly, "I apologize, Lord Adrien, Lady Mary, I am afraid I must retire for the
night."
"I want to go with you," Ernest said in haste, jumping to his feet.
"You stay here, Ernest," Adrien sternly said, eyeing Agatha as she stood from her
chair. "Do you need a doctor?"
"No, please, I am alright-simply tired."
Benedict watched her walk with Daisy out of the dining room and somewhere into one
of the many corridors of the club.
"Perhaps I was right about that vicar," Mary was saying to Adrien. "He seemed
strangely disturbing in a way as I have said."
"I did not know she has an uncle or any family at all," Benedict commented
nonchalantly.
"So did we. She is an orphan, she said. Perhaps, based on how she reacted, she does
not consider this man family." Mary sighed. "I am glad I did not tell him her
whereabouts in Wickhurst."
Benedict remained silent.
Agatha Blair was proving to be more mysterious with each passing day.
*****
Her decision surprised everyone.
It had been an easy one, really, after spending a sleepless night in bed.
She came out of the chamber she shared with one of the servants and went straight
to find Benedict preparing to depart.
He answered the door himself, brows raised in question as he waited for her to say
what she came for.
"I would like to return with you to Wickhurst."
Leaning on his crutches, Benedict Everard frowned in surprise. "Would you care to
tell me why we even wasted two dreadful days of travel to Willowfair only to return
to Wickhurst and, should I add, suffer yet two more days of travel?"
Pursing her lips, she ignored the sarcastic remark and squared her shoulders. "My
portmanteau is ready. And so am I if you wish to depart now. I will send a short
missive to Lady Mary that I have changed my mind."
She started to walk away but his hand was fast enough to catch her arm and pull her
back facing him. His eyes were deadly serious as they bored into hers. "Is the
reason for this sudden change of mind has anything to do with the visitor Lady Mary
has talked about last night?"
Agatha blinked. Yes, it had everything to do with the Vicar. She could never let
him go back to Willowfair and be a threat to the Haverstons. She'd rather face him
head on than ever let him resort to using the only family she had ever known to
have since she had escaped her village many years ago. "Perhaps," she answered, not
willing to provide further explanation.
His eyes searched hers. "You said you do not have any family, Blair."
"I do not consider that man family, my lord."
His hand tightened around her arm. "What are you hiding, Blair?"
"Nothing," she lied.
She had to return to Wickhurst and find the Vicar. She'd tell him to leave her
alone for she had nothing to do with him any longer. And then she'd disappear once
more. She'd leave the Haverstons and the Everards to how they were before she came
to them.
"It is my business to know what is happening to everyone who is under my employ."
"I understand, my lord, I do. But I cannot tell you anything when there is nothing
to say."
"You would not be so keen in coming back to Wickhurst if not for last night. Should
I remind you that you have been so insistent to maintain a great distance between
us?"
"Do not patronize yourself too much, my lord. You are but one of the many reasons I
wanted to stay away. But now I had changed my mind. I am willing to accept the work
as your secretary and will continue to be so until the twins are back and the
season is over. By then, I am certain that I will find a new employment."
He finally let go of her arm. "You will be my secretary." It was not even a
question.
"Yes."
Benedict slowly nodded. "If I sense that you are in danger, or if my family's
safety is threatened by this secret you obviously hide, you will find yourself
either explaining yourself or out of the mansion."
Agatha forced a smile on her lips. "Very well."
*****
Mary Haverston was saddened by her decision and although the lousy secretary excuse
did not convince him, the fact that she wanted to find her uncle in Wickhurst, if
he was there, did.
"Do send a missive if you need anything, Agatha," was Mary's parting words.
Agatha would have loved to stay behind and spend time with Ernest and the servants,
but it was paramount that she went back to Wickhurst to find the Vicar herself.
*****
To have arrived in Wickhurst without dramatics was quite astounding. He had
prepared himself to interrogate Agatha until she told him the truth behind her
short-lived stay with the Haverstons. But to his amazement he found that he could
not bring himself to do so after he saw her troubled look.
For the sake of all that was holy, he could not even come up with a word easy
enough to provoke her.
Instead, they both managed to be courteous all throughout the journey. She insisted
that she pay for her own room in the tavern they stopped by and locked herself
inside it until they had to depart again.
They merely exchanged sentences composed mainly of one or two words and went their
separate ways by the time they arrived home. Night passed and he had not seen her
again.
The very next day, to further occupy his time, the arrival of two unexpected
callers took his mind off the governess who was now his temporary, a post he was
planning to make use of today as work was waiting for him in his study.
Lady Frances Highmore arrived with her lady companion, looking worried.
"My lord," she said, standing to her feet when he limped his way into the parlor
where Jefferson led her. "I ask that you pardon me for not having come sooner. I
did call on you yesterday but your butler has informed me that you have gone out of
town. Is your leg feeling fine?"
"Do not fret so, my lady. My leg is going to be fine."
And like most of their conversations, they found themselves speechless after the
customary greetings and small talks. Sitting across from each other, just staring
at each other or on any interesting furniture, seemed to be one of their best
conversations.
Benedict had gotten used to the silence for, in fact, it was one of the reasons he
chose the lady to be his wife. She did not say useless things his sisters would
always find important. She did not blabber, nor ever defied his words. His
statements and opinions were hers as well. She was the perfect bride-beautiful and
quiet.
And utterly boring, unchallenging and by far the most tamed woman he had ever met.
Frances Highmore was the complete opposite of his sisters and Agatha.
His jaw tightened. Why did he have to include the governess? Ah, because she was
the most untamed, challenging and utterly interesting woman he had encountered who
was not his sister.
And then again, he hated that she was all those things.
"My father wishes to see you the very moment your leg would allow it. He is quiet
excited to discuss a joint venture on another part of one of our ruby mines. He
said that it is quite promising and he knows that your expertise will be thoroughly
helpful," Lady Frances was saying, but Benedict could not find it in himself to
listen with complete attention. "Him and mother are quite ecstatic to finally unite
our families."
Benedict offered a small smile. "As we are. The Everards have never mined a single
ruby in our history and it has always been a dream to finally attach our names to
such gem."
Frances smiled with contentment and he almost bared his throat at the absurdity of
all this. They were talking about their forthcoming marriage like they would a
business venture. He wondered then if it was the same with the others. Did Mary and
Adrien Haverston talk about how they would combine their wealth when they married?
Did his parents?
"I hope you can recuperate long enough before the Christmas dinner. I am sad to
learn that your family has already gone to Devonshire for the holidays. It would be
marvellous to gather the families in one special occasion." He stared blankly at
the blonde beauty sitting across from him. What could she be thinking now as she
stared at his scarred face?
He saw her eyes flicker to them but they were fast enough to go back to focus on
his eyes.
Should he inquire if she was bothered with them? Did she wish to know how he
acquired them? When would she gather the courage to ask the question he would not
mind answering? Really, for the longest time since he acquired them, no one dared
ask him about the scars. Even his family would not bring the subject, even the
twins whom he knew could have already come up with the best puns for his scars what
with their wit and devious thoughts.
"Please do assure your father that I will be at the dinner. Do you need anything
more for the wedding plans?"
"Oh, it is going perfectly. Lady Alice and mother have grown very close. I should
say they do enjoy planning a wedding too much that they might be considering doing
it for an entire week!"
He nodded with contentment, offering Frances a small smile as she chuckled at her
anecdote.
It had to be enough that their family could work together, he thought.
*****
Agatha was on her way out of the door when the doctor arrived. She stopped at the
foot of the entrance staircase, remembering what the twins had been planning for
her, and her cheeks flushed. Did Doctor Johannes have any idea at all? Did he get
an inkling? Surely, the twins were not that naïve as to tell him?
"Miss Blair," the doctor greeted, making a slight bow. His eyes were sparkling as
he stared at her.
"Doctor Johannes," she curtsied. "Did you come by to check on Lord Everard's
plaisters?"
"Yes." His beaming face started to frown. "Although I am also here to insist that
he stays confined in his bed for some time. I have been told that he went out of
town. He ought not to have done that."
Agatha bit her lips. She felt as much responsible for it as Benedict was. "Then I
must insist that you insist upon it, Doctor. He could get quite stubborn."
"Quite?" The doctor laughed. "Quite is a paltry word, Miss Blair."
She had to smile at that for the doctor was correct. There was no 'quite' where
Benedict Everard was concerned. "You must be right."
Doctor Johannes cocked his brows high. "You are going out?"
"Yes." She had to go about town and perchance she'd come across the Vicar.
*****
Benedict's face hardened when the door opened and Frances started to walk down the
stairs and revealed the two people standing in the driveway.
"Doctor Johannes," he called out, breaking the man's conversation with Agatha. "Why
are you here?"
The doctor said something to Agatha before he turned toward him, giving the
departing Frances and her companion a small bow before finally approaching him. "I
am here to check on your plaisters, my lord."
Benedict watched over the doctor's shoulder as Agatha gave Frances a curtsy when
the lady passed by on her way to her carriage. And without as much a single glance
at their direction, the governess turned and started to walk off after his
fiancée's carriage drove away.
"Miss Blair!" he called after her, ignoring the doctor before him.
She stopped and looked up at him.
"I was intending for you to start working on my missives this afternoon. Where are
you going?"
She turned so she was fully facing his direction. "I just need but an hour, my
lord. I shall be back soon."
"You are not-"
"Goodbye, my lord. I shall find you the moment I return."
His mouth hung open as he stared after her, his brows furrowed. Where the bloody
hell was she going now?

XV. The Man of God

She honestly did not know where she ought to go.

Where could he be? Mayhap he had not found her. Or he gave up? That, of course, was
farfetched.
This is foolish, she told herself.
Why would she risk her safety looking for the man who wanted to put an end to it?
Because that was what the Vicar was intending to do. He'd want to take her back to
where she felt the most vulnerable.
Had she not spent years hiding from him or anyone from her village?
But the recent visit he paid the Haverstons ought not to be repeated with the
Everards.
She'd tell him to leave her alone once and for all. And then she'd find a new
employment and leave town. And mayhap she'd change her name this time, one she
ought to have done years ago.
With no idea where to go, Agatha headed to the park. A large hole was situated
above, gracing everyone under it with gentle sunlight and a scant shower of snow.
Someone had paved the paths but not many seemed to enjoy a damp park at the moment
for there were but a few Townspeople walking around. Parks and woods around the
Town were the only places where real plants could grow and for a short while Agatha
relished their presence despite the cold.
This is foolish, she repeated in her mind as she began a leisurely walk around the
park. Why did she ever think the Vicar would appear? This was the first time she
had gone out alone after she spotted him outside the shop the day Benedict procured
her spectacles. He had no other chance to see her and if had been following her
around, surely he would reappear.
She circled the park once more, deep in thought, before she decided she might as
well go to the bookstore and procure a book or two. But it was when she was just
exiting the said park when a familiar figure appeared before her.
Her heart stopped, her whole body turning cold.
It was the first time after many years that she was again face to face with the
man. His greying hair was still as it was. His condemnatory black eyes unwavering
still.
"Agatha Blair," the Vicar said with an eerie smile, his cold yet soft familiar
voice ringing in the air around them.
*****
"It was highly risky to have travelled such a long distance after your accident, my
lord," the young doctor told him, shaking his head.
Benedict's brows furrowed. He was back in his bedchamber, sitting in his winged
chair with his leg propped on a cushion foot rest. "But my foot is fine, yes?"
Doctor Johannes nodded. "But it may have delayed the healing. Your plaisters are
new and I recommend that you try to keep away from traveling for at least a week. I
shall come back by then to check if you could free yourself from them." He picked
up his bag and straightened to full height.
He grumbled under his breath. "Silas," he addressed his valet standing in one
corner, "assist Doctor Johannes out the door."
The doctor started to move but hesitated and stopped.
"Do you have more things to discuss, doctor?" he snapped.
Doctor Johannes opened his mouth, cleared his throat and spoke, "I was merely
wondering, my lord, if it is of no consequence, whether or not I could ask Miss
Blair for a walk in the park."
Benedict went rigid. Had he heard that right? "Whatever for?" he scowled.
The doctor blinked a few times, his face flushed. "I do believe I would find her
company enjoyable."
"Do you mean Agatha Blair, the governess?'
"Is there another Miss Blair living under your care?"
Benedict's jaw tightened. "She is very much busy these days, doctor."
"But your sisters are out of-"
"She has agreed to be my secretary while I recuperate."
"I believe you could work-"
"However I try to recuperate, doctor, is none of your concern." He started to
realize how strange he was acting for it was also apparent on Silas' face who was
gaping at him with disbelief, the bloody fool. He cleared his throat and continued,
"Now, I do not care about your plans concerning Miss Blair, but I ought to press
that you delay it for at least the next year when the holidays are over and my
sisters survive their first season. Only then could you approach the governess and
you would not even have to ask for my permission."
The doctor seemed rather pleased with his last words and he almost bared his teeth
when the young man smiled with contentment and offered a bow of gratitude and left
the room. The bloody fool was nearly skipping his way out like a boy excited to get
a candy.
Ha! Take Blair for a walk in the park, his arse! What could the two of them talk
about? The poor fool would merely find himself horrified with her mouth. No
gentleman would wish to be in her presence. Unless the doctor could welcome an open
conversation with a lady and accept her opinions without judgement, a walk in the
park with Agatha Blair could very well be the same as a walk with a tiger without
its leash.
When Silas finally returned, Benedict asked him a question, he looked a bit
flustered.
"What is it now?"
The valet shook his head.
"What is it, Silas?"
"I was merely thinking about the doctor wanting to associate himself with Miss
Blair, my lord."
"And what makes you looking so flustered?" His face darkened. "Do not tell me,
Silas, that you have intentions for the governess as well."
Silas' eyes widened. "Of course not, my lord! It is just that I worry Miss Blair
would have a problem with some of the servants if the doctor's intentions are made
known."
He frowned. "Why would she have a problem with the servants?"
Silas hesitated. "It is naught to be concerned of, my lord. Petty concerns,
really."
"Do not make me repeat my question."
The ever talkative valet grimaced. "It is not a secret that Charlotte, the
housekeeper, is not chummy with the governess, my lord."
"And why is that?"
The man shook his head. "I'd rather not say, my lord."
Benedict cocked an eyebrow, his face filled with warning.
"It is just that she never liked Miss Blair, my lord, always reminding her that she
was but a servant before she became a governess and she shall remain as such
forever, which means she ought not associate herself in less than a formal manner
with anyone above her station."
He waited and when Silas did not add anything, he said, "I know there is more."
"M-my lord, I am-"
Benedict's eyes narrowed.
"Miss Blair enjoys a few privileges that a governess ought not to. That, of course,
is entirely Charlotte's sole opinion, my lord, and does not speak for all the other
servants'."
"How in the bloody hell did you know such gossips?"
Silas' face turned completely scarlet. "It is no gossip, my lord. Everyone is privy
to Charlotte's opinions of the governess. As a matter of fact, she never liked all
the governesses, but it is just that she dislikes Miss Blair more. Mayhap because
Miss Blair fights back more than she ought to."
"And you know this how?"
The valet's face was growing more uncomfortable by each answer. "Servants talk a
lot behind closed doors, my lord. There are those who are supportive of Miss Blair
and there are those who are in agreement of Charlotte."
"Let me say two things, Silas," he uttered, looking at his valet in the eye. "One,
it is highly improper that you tell me such gossips, much more so for a valet."
Silas bowed his head. "I am sorry, my lord, but you asked and I was forced to
answer."
Ignoring the valet's statement, Benedict continued, "Second, bring the housekeeper
here now."
Silas' head snapped in surprise, his face going pale. "My lord?"
"Bring the housekeeper in my bedchamber now. I do not appreciate hostility among
the servants."
"B-but, my l-lord, I don't t-think-"
"Now!"
Silas jumped in his feet. "Yes, my lord."
*****
"Why are you here?" she demanded in a shaky voice. When would she ever learn to
face the Vicar without her flesh shaking in fear?
Dressed in his vicar dress that displayed a unique power, the aged man before her
cocked his head to the right as his dark eyes assessed her. He had done the same
thing too many times in the past that the memories of her years in their village
started to come back once more. "You know why I am here, Agatha. I have travelled
wide searching for you. If not for that missive sent by Mary Haverston, I might not
have found you at all."
Agatha's jaw tightened. "You intercepted her missive."
"A man of God ought to do what ought to be done if the fate of a sinner is in his
hands."
Her ears heated at his words. "I am no sinner and you are no man of God. God did
not give you the power to do what you have done to me. And to my family." Suddenly
her eyes watered. She no longer knew which was better: to maintain such cold
conversation or to have him force her by strength to come with him.
"You have done more harm to your family than anyone in our village did, dear
Agatha. It is time that you surrender and come back to the village in peace."
"I did no harm to anyone. I did not!" she hissed.
The Vicar shook his head. "When will you ever accept the truth, Agatha? The entire
village expected you to face your sins like a decent woman that you ought to be.
But instead of trying to prove your innocence, you up and disappeared. It is my
moral duty to the village to bring you back unharmed. Please, do not make them wait
any longer and send for a Town Guard to take you back."
"I did naught but said the truth so many times. I am not going back. Tell the
village the same thing. Tell them to forget me and my family. Tell them to live
their lives as they ought to be."
"But the family of your victims will forever remain dissatisfied, dear. They will
never stop hunting for you."
"Is that why you are truly here? Because they ordered you to do so?"
"I take no orders from no one but God."
"But with a few Townsends, you would. Do not fool the both of us. I have known you
my entire life." She stepped away from him. "Do not show yourself in front of me or
the Everards."
"You're a woman of sin, Agatha. I cannot let you get away."
She lifted her head and stared the man in the eyes. "Then take me by force," she
challenged. When he simply stood there, unmoving, she smiled. "You cannot, can you?
Because you have no power to do so. You are afraid of me like the rest of them. And
you threaten me with the Town Guards. But you have missed one important point that
helps me survive up to this day: the Guards do not have the evidence against me.
All are but speculations. In the eyes of law, I have not sinned."
Agatha turned and started to walk away. "But in the eyes of God and the entire
village, you have killed not only your family, but others more."
Her entire body began to shake at the memories. They were starting to come out of
their hiding place and flooded her mind.
Without saying a word, she forced herself to take one step away, and then another.
"You're a murderer, Agatha Blair! And you shall face your punishment before God and
the entire village of Kaylock!"
Her steps quickened. He could not touch her now, but he could call for someone who
could. She'd have to leave Wickhurst at the soonest possible time.
*****
He had never interfered with matters of the household for he believed that it was
the butler's or his mother's task. He never cared what happened below stairs or
within the servants' quarters.
Yet now he could not ken why he berated the housekeeper, recapitulating the fact
that governesses are not directly under her supervision and it was not her place to
say anything to Agatha Blair. Furthermore, he could not fathom why he insisted that
Charlotte talk to Agatha and ask that they both mend their misunderstandings. And
to make it even worse, he waited in his mother's library, which was closer to the
governess' bedchamber, until Agatha arrived from her walk and waited some more for
Charlotte to come and knock outside the governess' door.
He simply wished to hear what the woman had to say. After all, he despised the
thought of the servants quarrelling against each other, most importantly on matters
that ought not to even be an issue.
"What did you say to his lordship?" were Charlotte's angry words.
Benedict frowned outside the door. That was not what he had expected to hear.
He leaned closer, swearing at his crutches in his mind for making the eavesdropping
a tad more difficult. Part of him was grateful the twins were not around to witness
him doing such horrendous act, another still horrified that he had to resort to
such act simply because the governess and the housekeeper were far from congenial.
"Whatever do you mean, Charlotte?" he heard Agatha ask in a calmer tone.
"He reprimanded me for acting the way I do around you. Now, who else could tell him
that?"
"He did? Why would he?"
"Do not pretend that you do not know, Agatha. I know you keep to yourself, but I am
also very well aware how you act even with the twins. You act as though you are of
their station, as though you are one of them. And now you compromise my employment
simply because I tell you the truth."
"I did not say anything to his lordship!"
"Then who else would?" Charlotte demanded.
Benedict winced. Mayhap he did more damage than good? Bloody tarnation, this thing
could go completely awry and he would have to answer to his mother if she went home
to a household with the whole bloody staff absent.
"Do not worry, Charlotte, I shall talk to his lordship and tell him there is naught
to be worried about. We were handling our disputes on our own, were we not?"
"Until you told on me, I thought we were," the housekeeper snapped.
"Do not fret. I shall have a word with him."
"And what will you tell him?"
"That he ought to mind his own bloody business."
Benedict took a step back and swung his crutches to the side. In less than a few
swings, he managed to escape the corridor. Panting, he limped back to his own
bedchamber and found Silas waiting for him.
"If anyone asks to see me, tell them I am currently indisposed," he ordered.
"And what of supper, my lord?"
"Bring it here. And lock the bloody door."
Silas frowned. Benedict could almost imagine Agatha Blair storming her way toward
his chamber. "Lock the bloody door!"
Silas jumped and did as he told. Benedict fell on his bed with a groan of
frustration.
Bloody hell, he muttered under his breath. Now, what had he wrought upon himself?

XVI. The Secretary

When he thought he had expertly and cowardly avoided a confrontation with the
governess, things proved to be rather more interesting when she finally found him
inside his study, reading missives from associates adamantly requesting for his
attention.

Agatha Blair strode inside his office with naught but a single knock as warning.
His brows cocked high when she firmly closed the door behind her. By then, Benedict
had already concocted the best approach to this impending battle: surprise.

"Good that you have come to see me, Blair," he began before she could even say her
piece, relishing the little triumph he felt by calling her that. It had been
apparent to this day that she did not like to be addressed by just her family name.
"I have loads of work for you. Take the opposite chair from mine. Here is the
inkwell and dip pen for your use. And where the devil are your spectacles?"

Clearly, his defensive attack was effective for her jaw dropped and it appeared so
that she was stunned. Good. Whatever Agatha Blair had to say was lost.

But not for long because she blinked and the fire in her topaz brown eyes returned.
Apparently, his victory was short-lived.

"Before we begin my secretarial duties, my lord, I wish to say something."

Benedict began to hope that, by the way she calmly uttered her opening, whatever he
might have feared may not ensue after all. But he chose to remain silent while he
composed himself for this tiring, constant battle with Agatha Blair.

"I would appreciate it, as would Charlotte, if you would do us the honor of not
meddling with our personal affairs and that of the other servants. You must know by
now that you have caused quite a worry over the other servants as well. I speak for
us all that you refrain from doing what you did with Charlotte."

"I was concerned by how she treats not just you but the other servants as well,
Blair. She may be the housekeeper and the head of most of the servants, but that
does not put her in a position to impose her opinions on everyone."

"You are correct, my lord, but your action forces us to think that you think we are
not capable of correcting the situation ourselves."

Benedict stiffened at her point for she did have a point. Bloody hell.
"We may very well be mere servants, my lord, but we do know how to deal and mend
our rifts and misunderstandings."

"You speak as though you are one of them."

"I am."

"You are a governess."

Her eyes flickered with annoyance. "I really wish you would stop judging who I am,
my lord?"

Benedict frowned. "Stop judging you? Blair, in case you misunderstand, I am not
judging you. I am pointing out a fact that you are no longer a servant. That would
leave anyone feeling flattered."

She sighed and shook her head. "Whatever you say, my lord."

His almost fell off his chair. Swallowing and choking in surprise, he asked, "You
are conceding?"

Agatha Blair shrugged. "I no longer see a point prolonging this animosity. It would
not lead us to any good. I realized I could make my point without provoking you."

"But you provoke me in every way, Blair." The words rushed out before he could even
stop them.

Fortunately, she took it in a different way for she said, "I will try my best to be
cooperative, my lord. I should get my spectacles. I will be back immediately so we
could start working."

Before he knew it, he was alone to gape at an empty doorway.

*****

Working with Agatha Blair as his secretary proved to be not only a smooth
transition but also professional. He had never thought he could get half of his
missives done in one single afternoon and to think that she could write his fast
dictations with just one interruption, which was to correct a simple mistake, was
rather impressive indeed.

As a way to try to appease their newly somewhat-affable relationship, he bit his

tongue and refrained from throwing a remark that could have fired her up when she'd
pause to give him a wry look when he made a mistake.

When their work was done and she had neatly stacked the letters in a pile on his
desk, Agatha Blair stood up and curtsied with, "Good evening, my lord. I will
return tomorrow if you need more of my services," as her final words and ambled out
of the study, both of them calm and utterly unscathed.

That, Benedict believe, was a good start.

*****

After the second day of working with Agatha Blair, Benedict was quite relieved that
she had finally conceded to contradicting everything he had to say. Mayhap she had
finally realized who was the lord of the manor? He wondered as he limped his way to
the parlor.
And for the third time in his life, Benedict found himself in the act of
eavesdropping where Agatha was concerned when he heard her faint voice from the
room he passed by. She was talking to someone he could not recognize, which was not
a surprise for he did never bother to know every member of the staff.

"I was merely telling you, Aggie, to tread carefully," answered the small voice.

He ought to move ahead and reach the parlor as he had intended, he warned to
himself as he leaned closer to press his ear against the closed door.

"Of course, I am but a chambermaid, and I do not have the full authority as
everyone else here does, to tell you to do so. But as your only friend in this
household, I wish that you keep yourself safe from being hurt."

"Oh, Patsy, I do appreciate your concern," Agatha's gentle voice answered. It was
apparent by her tone that she liked this Patsy more than anyone else apart from his
sisters and mother. She had never used such tone around him, more so toward him.
Could they be talking about Charlotte?

Benedict made a move to walk away from the door, intending to grant Agatha's
request to not meddle in the personal disputes among servants only to literally and
hastily return pressed to the door when he heard his name. He almost cursed for he
thought he missed an important statement.

And to make it worse, Silas appeared at the end of the corridor. His valet spotted
him and it would have been a great opportunity to step away from the door but
Patsy, the chambermaid, was saying something utterly important.

"It is rather obvious to those who know how to look and listen carefully, Aggie,"
she was saying. "You do fancy his him."

Silas was now walking toward him with a curious look on his face. Benedict warned
him off by racing one of his crutches. The valet stopped midstride in the middle of
the corridor while Benedict unashamedly continued his eavesdropping. To hell with
the valet. He was paid to please and serve him. And to keep his secrets, a duty
Benedict ought to remind the man soon.

Agatha scoffed. Benedict could imagine her rolling her eyes with indignation. Where
they talking about the doctor? He wondered. "I do not fancy that beast, Patsy."

Beast?

"Ah, then you are in love with his lordship?" Benedict momentarily leaned away from
the door, surprised by the chambermaid's tactlessness, only to return once more
when she continued to speak, his right crutch still held high to hold Silas in his
place. There was no chance he'd let this one pass. "For it is utterly obvious. I do
not even know what you see in him, really. He is rather, as what you would call
him, a beast. His eyes do scare me most days and I am only happy that I am a
chambermaid and I do not have to see his lordship most days. And do not make me
start on the scars for-"

"He is a beast in some ways but his scars. There is nothing wrong with his scars,"
Agatha snapped. Benedict's brows cocked higher. She sounded irked. "You should not
judge a man's character by what he wears over his skin. There is a story in
everything, Patsy, and unless you are privy to them, you could never judge anyone
by how they look. Judge them by what they are not showing."

"Do you see what I mean? You are infatuated with his lordship. I heard that even
his fiancée is bothered by his scars. But you are not. But Aggie," said Patsy in an
almost pleading tone, "be careful with your heart. Falling in love with the master
is not only wrong for us service people, but any future with him or anyone in his
station is impossible for us. It is the reality we all have to face."

Agatha remained silent and Benedict did not realize that he had slowly dropped his
right hand to his side in utter wonder and curiosity. Silas might have thought it
was a sign that he could safely approach him and before he knew it, his valet was
whispering in his ear, "My lord, do you need a chair?"

Benedict snapped his head at Silas and lightly slapped the man's leg with his
crutch. "Go away," he hissed.

"But, my lord, I thought you-"

"Keep your bloody voice down, Silas!" he hissed again and started to limp away,
leaving the startled valet outside the door. He stopped and scowled over his
shoulder. "What are you doing there?"

"I-I-" Silas looked from the door to him, utterly looking confused. And then he
stopped, leaning close to the door, his expression suddenly filled with
understanding. When his valet finally realized what he had been doing outside the
door, Silas' jaw dropped.

"Get. Away. From. The. Door," he ordered through gritted teeth. "Come to the
parlor."

"The parlor, my lord?"

"Yes."

"B-but-"

"The parlor, Silas, or I'll have your arse."

Silas jumped and scurried to the direction of the parlor.

Benedict stormed after him, his mind fully intent on reminding the bastard that the
actions of his masters ought not to be repeated to anyone, most especially the
governess.

And about the governess, now... could that wise chambermaid, Patsy, be telling the
truth? Was the governess in love with him?

*****

On the third day, things elevated to a different level.

Agatha, having obviously rid herself of any desire to have more useless arguments
with Benedict Everard, had decided to wait for the rest of his family to return so
she could finally-and formally-inform Lady Alice in person that she had found a new
employment.

Of course, she had to find that employment before the Everards returned to
Wickhurst. She was aware that the Vicar might be thinking that she'd try to leave
Wickhurst. It might be hard to believe, for it was highly ironic, but the Everard
mansion was her safe sanctuary at the time being. No one could touch her if she
stayed indoors. The mansion was a fortress that protected her from the Vicar and
that thought alone was enough to ease her mind. For now.
"Whatever could you be thinking, Blair?" Benedict asked and she realized he paused
in his dictation.

She blinked, surprised that her thoughts had gone astray. "Pardon me, my lord," she
murmured under her breath. "I was having a lapse in-"

"Could you be dreaming about something? A kiss perhaps?"

Aghast, Agatha's jaw dropped and so did the dipping pen in her hand. Scowling
across the table, she was on the verge of reminding him that they both ought to
forget that horrendous incident but the look he was giving her gave her even more
reason to be surprised.

He was grinning at her. Surely, her vision was playing her? His face was slightly
shadowed by the light coming through the window behind him. "Would it be someone I
know or someone else entirely?"

How dare he ask!

Benedict Everard was bloody grinning at her!

Where were the twins when she needed their brilliant responses? Ysabella and Emma
would have a fit and rolled on the floor by now if they saw their beast of a
brother grinning for more than five bloody seconds. It was a tremendous feat thus
far!

For almost two years she had been around him, she had always believed that a real
smile or a grin would never suit him, not even when she had thought herself in love
with the bastard.

"What is it, Blair? Speechless? Have I guessed right?" he asked in a tone that she
had never heard from him before.

The bastard was teasing her, she realized with great awe. Her! The governess and
now his temporary secretary! Not his fiancée or his sisters. Her! He was teasing
her!

"Your foot must have been infected after all, my lord, for it is obvious that the
microbes had reached your brain."

He frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"You are acting as though you have forgotten who is before you. I am Agatha Blair,
the person you cannot have an easy conversation with. I work for you, my lord. I am
not your chum to tease."

His brows cocked high.

Agatha narrowed her eyes at him. "You are trying to provoke me to have another spat
with you, are you not, my lord?"

"Why ever would you think that, Blair? Of course, I do not. I rather like this easy
cordial relationship. Now, tell me, as someone you used to quarrel with in every
turn but now you don't, who could you fancy so that it had taken your mind off your
task?"

She was sitting across a different man. Whatever happened to the beast, she could
never ken. Was he secretly deranged? She wondered in silence. "I could never ken
why I thought I was in love with you in the first place," she muttered under her
breath.

"What did you say?"

She shook her head, certain he had not heard her.

"You said something, Blair."

His voice sounded amused. What the bloody hell was wrong with this man? "I forgot,"
she lied.

"You forgot."

"Yes."

"I do not think you did. You said something. Now, tell me what you were thinking
just now."

Agatha flushed. Mayhap it was time to strike with surprise as well. "I was merely
wondering about something that had long been nagging me, 'tis all."

"And what is that?"

She looked at him squarely in the eyes. Surely her question would stop whatever
game he had in mind. No one had dared ask him this and if she did, he'd find a way
back to being the beast he always was around her-the domineering, arrogant one she
was used to. "Your scars, my lord."

Benedict Everard was silent for a very long time and Agatha feared that she had
gone too far. Before she could apologize, he opened his mouth and spoke with a very
faint smile, "I thought no one would dare ask about them."

She blinked in surprise. He did not sound angry at all. In fact, there was a hint
of relief in his voice, one that told her he had been waiting for this very moment
for a very long time.

"Would you like to know how I acquired them?"

XVII. Scarred Story

Agatha could not quite decide whether or not Benedict was jesting. To be on safer
ground, she carefully nodded her head, looking into his emerald eyes.

"Cole Devitt," he answered. There was not a dash of hatred or anything of the sort
in his voice. He said it so matter-of-factly that she hungered for more. She waited
in breathless silence. "He was my childhood friend. We basically grew up together,
played most summers and spent our days in school together. He was more of a brother
than a friend." His eyes turned glassy at the memories that were obviously still
fresh in his mind.
She swallowed, trying to remember if she had heard of Cole Devitt before. No, not a
soul had mentioned his name. And in Benedict's next statement, she realized it was
a name forbidden in the household. "He gave me these," was his words, his finger
absently tracing the long white scar, probably the deepest, on his left cheek. It
slanted from his cheekbone down near the edge of his lips.
His eyes focused on hers and for a long moment he let the silence linger as they
both tried to read each other's thoughts. Mayhap he read the unspoken questions in
her eyes for his lips twitched in his signature smile. "I ought to start on him so
you could better understand why he took to the blade. After all, he did save my
life by not killing me." His brows knitted together. "Or should I say, Margaret
saved my life."
Margaret?
A knock came to the door before he could continue and Jefferson came through the
doorway, announcing, "Doctor Johannes is here to see to your plaisters, my lord."
Benedict snapped his head at the butler. "He was here merely days before. Why would
he return-" His eyes snapped toward Agatha. Almost immediately, he stood on his
good leg and reached for his crutches. "You stay here, Blair."
She had already stood up. "I believe I ought to be there when the doctor examines
you, my lord. He might have instructions-"
"Silas could take them," he snapped, interrupting her statement. "You..." his eyes
flickered restlessly over the papers on his desk, "You finish whatever you ought to
do. I shall return immediately."
"But what am I to do-"
"Review your work," he grated out, already limping toward the door and past
Jefferson. "Stay here and for once follow my instructions."
Agatha shared a confused look with Jefferson before the two men disappeared behind
the door, leaving her to wonder on her own.
*****
"I did not happen to see if Miss Blair was in residence," the doctor commented as
he removed Benedict's plaisters.
"She is currently very busy with the tasks I gave her," he snapped. He heard Silas
cough from one corner and he threw his valet a dirty look to silence him. Had he
not given the fool specific instructions where the governess was concerned?
Doctor Johannes paused and looked at him. "She is a governess, is she not?"
"As I had said, she is also my secretary. For the time being."
The doctor assessed him with a thoughtful look before resuming his work. Once the
plaisters were completely removed, Benedict allowed himself to ask, "Will you need
to apply more plaisters?"
Doctor Johannes ignored him, checking his ankle with narrowed eyes. "Will you turn
your foot for me?"
Benedict tried and much to his surprise, no pain came. He tried once more and he
finally said, "It feels fine."
Doctor Johannes nodded. "It seems that you did not have such a serious injury after
all. There is no need for more plaisters, but an exercise will be needed. Do
refrain from strenuous activities for a few more days. You may need your crutches
still. We do not want your ankle to feel the sudden weight. Go about a few hours a
day without your crutches, but keep to them most of the time. Then you may resort
to using a cane if your foot do not bother you after a week." He stood up and
picked up his bag. "I shall call on you in two days to make certain that you are
fully healed."
He nearly scowled at the young doctor. Even a fool could discern why he'd want to
go back when it was already evident that his services were no longer needed. "I
will have my butler send for you if the need arises, otherwise you do not have to
return."
Doctor Johannes stared at him as though he knew what Benedict meant and he met the
doctor's gaze with his strong domineering eyes.
Finally, after what seemed like a long, tiring battle of gazes, the doctor nodded
and said, "Very well. Good day."
Benedict waited until he was certain the doctor was out of the manor before he
climbed out of bed and grabbed his crutches to limp his way back to his office
where he hoped Agatha Blair had remained as he instructed, giving Silas a sharp
look on his way out.
And she was there and he could not ken why he felt a sudden surge of relief and
entitlement when he saw her sitting in the same chair she was in an hour ago,
leaning over a missive, a lock of hair hanging from her forehead and her spectacles
nearly at the tip of her nose. She was an epitome of plain and boring in her grey
dress, yet she was not all the same with the faint light coming through the windows
behind his desk washing over her form. If he was looking at a painting, he was
looking at something that pictured simplicity, intelligence and contentment.
But the spell was immediately broken when she took notice of his presence and came
to her feet as her eyes roamed over him and down to his foot. "My lord, you
plaisters are gone."
"And your spectacles are doing their fine job with your vision," he could not help
but quip. "Yes, they are gone." He remained standing in the doorway, not knowing
what to do. Before the doctor came, he was telling her about Cole Devitt, a name he
thought was forgotten. She was the first one to dare ask him about his past. His
family knew, but they had all decided that what happened those years ago ought to
remain in the past.
But no one would ever forget that night. Not him, and not Margaret and his
brothers. And not Cole Devitt.
"Doctor Johannes instructed that I give my foot an exercise. Would you care that we
continue my story in the garden?" he asked Agatha whose jaw slackened at his
invitation. "What? Don't you wish to hear the rest of it, Blair?"
She appeared to be thinking of a way to reason with him.
"It is just a walk in the garden," he snapped, turning around to walk out of the
study.
*****
With no other choice, Agatha found herself following Benedict to the garden, wary
of any eyes hiding in the corners of the manor. She was aware that the servants
would definitely start talking if they found out that she had gone to the garden
with the master of the estate himself.
For a moment she wondered if he was indeed in need of an exercise. But his
plaisters were off and he might be telling the truth. After all, he did not have
such a bad fall for the plaisters to remain for weeks, but his foot needed an
exercise still after a long time of inactivity. Tired of having to wonder what
Benedict Everard might be thinking now, inviting her for a walk in the garden,
Agatha sighed in resignation. After all, she would not wish to go to bed without
having the rest of his story. It was not every day that the eldest of the Everard
children would tell a tale in such an eager manner. He might change his mind and
she'd never know his story.
But what would it bring if she knew? Would it change a thing? Would it give her
enough reason to believe that he was after all a beast? Or would it give her more
reason to hate leaving him soon?
Brushing the questions off her mind, Agatha thought that it was better to have
known him than none at all.
They reached the garden and when she thought he'd stop at the bench near the
doorway where he had once found her with the twins laughing, he walked further
through the sham bushes until they reached the farthest corner. Agatha hesitated
following him at first but decided that the servants could go to hell. She was
leaving them soon. Propriety may go to the devil itself.
Benedict stopped in front of a stone bench and turned toward her. He motioned for
her to sit, saying, "I ought to exercise my foot without the crutches," handing her
the wooden equipment as she sat down.
Agatha watched as he took one careful step, and then another, and another, until he
found a slow pace before her, his hands clasped behind his back in easy fashion.
His head fell back. His eyes wandered above and she followed his gaze, looking at
the hanging lamps that washed the garden with a yellow glow. From a far distance
she could see the natural white light shining down from the giant holes over the
woods, a contrast from the hundreds of yellow lamp lights.
It was one of those moments when she found the Town wonderful, really. She may not
see or experience anything close to what those aboveground may have, but she could
have a glimpse of them through the rare books she had read. If the light coming
from the holes were any indication, Agatha knew there were more wonderful things
above. Yet there were so much wonder belowground as well-such as this moment. This
one moment I never thought possible, she thought as her gaze dropped back to
Benedict.
"Nine years ago, Cole Devitt and I were merely six and twenty," Benedict said,
breaking the silence. "By then, we had already spent years together. It seemed that
things were going so well until I met his sister after many years. Leah was but
eleven when I last saw her before she went to school and after many years, she had
grown into a beautiful woman." He paused and Agatha waited, patiently sitting on
the bench, her hands clasped together. "I did try to stay away for I knew what a
relationship with her could mar my friendship with his brother. But you know young
love-it is quite impulsive."
No, I don't, she answered inside her head. She never knew of young love. She never
knew it until him, really, so what else could she say in response but maintain her
silence?
"Months later, after a long party in the Devitt estate, Leah sent me a missive that
she was with child." Agatha caught her breath. Her eyes searched his face and found
that it hardened at the memory. "I knew what I had to do then. It was about time I
marry and I was quite certain that Cole would have not disapproved of the union if
he knew that of his sister's condition." He turned and paced before her, his face
turning blank as though he was merely reading a story he was no longer interested
in. "But before I could do anything, the mining accident happened. I was with my
father then, having an ocular inspection of one of the mines when a big part
collapsed. Father was seriously injured. We were trapped inside for nearly a week
with naught but a few biscuits from the other miners who survived. We all thought
we'd all die together, but the Town Guards managed to find a way through one of the
entrances and found us in one group, but father was already dead by then." Agatha
inhaled a sharp breath. She knew the late Lord Everard had died in an accident, but
the details were never shared.
Benedict seemed to be lost in his own story by then, for he ignored her reaction
and continued with his story. "I ordered the accident to be kept away from public
knowledge the moment we got out for it would cause a big problem with the business.
The burning ritual was done in private. Everyone was at a loss. We all mourned the
death of my father as a family and refused calls from friends, at least to the very
few who knew of what happened. The accident stayed in Wickhurst and was never made
known to other towns. When things started to settle down, when all the miners-dead
and alive-were well compensated, I thought I could finally go to Leah."
He stopped pacing and faced Agatha, but his eyes were cast high above her head,
staring blankly in the air. His jaw twitched before he spoke. "But her brother came
to me instead and demanded that I fight him in a duel with swords for his sister's
honor."
Agatha frowned. A duel?
"You see," said Benedict, his eyes finally meeting Agatha's, "Leah killed herself."
She gasped in disbelief.
"Their mother learned of her pregnancy and demanded to know who the father was.
Leah, innocent that she was, told her family the truth, claiming that she was
confident I'd come for her. But I did not come for her. I couldn't, at that time.
She waited and waited. And one day, for reasons only known to her, she killed
herself along with our child."
Agatha's face contorted with disbelief and horror. "But surely Cole Devitt knew of
the accident. Surely he could not blame you for-"
Benedict was already shaking his head before she could finish her statement. "I
knew-as did Cole-that the right thing I ought to have done was climb on my bloody
horse and rode to where she was the very moment I received her missive." Agatha
opened her mouth to contradict but Benedict continued, "I did not. I did not
because I thought the mines were more of import-that I could simply delay my
obligations to her."
"It was not your fault she killed herself!"
He shook his head at her once again. "You may never understand where Cole was
coming from." He paused. "I would have done the same thing if it was one of my
sisters. I would have come to him without a bloody duel and simply cut his throat
if it were Margaret or the twins." His eyes hardened at his words. "I would have
done the same thing, Blair."
Agatha closed her mouth and nodded, yielding to his words. She may never
understand, she thought, but she understood he honored his friendship. "So you
dueled."
"No."
She blinked in surprise. "You did not?"
"No such thing happened." He took the remaining steps forward and sat down beside
her. She scooted away to give him space, placing the crutches aside against the
stone bench. Benedict leaned on his arms behind him, his legs stretched forward in
easy fashion. "But we were in an open field, ready to fight. We were both expert
swordsmen in school, you see, so you can now imagine why we opted for blades rather
than guns. I was ready to die in his hands. It was the only way I knew I could pay
for what I had caused him and his family." Although Agatha strongly disagreed, she
remained mum. It was his story and it was him in that story. She did not wish to
change whatever he may have thought that time. "But my dear sister came bounding in
her horse to stop us. My brothers were with her as well, but it was Margaret who
jumped down her horse and stormed right toward Cole Devitt. She demanded that he
listen to her and he did. She told him where I had been when they thought I had
abandoned Leah and she told him of our father's death. I tried to stop her. I told
her that the duel was happening for it was the honorable thing to do. Margaret
would have none of it and proclaimed that if the duel shall ensue, she would stand
as my second."
Agatha could not help but smile. She could imagine a nineteen year-old Margaret, in
her long black hair and fiery emerald eyes, storming across an empty field to speak
her mind.
"Cole Devitt was torn between his desire to kill me and the truth behind my long
absence. And he did what he could at that time. He pushed Margaret aside and
bounded toward me to plant his strong fist against my cheek. I let him beat me,
warding my brothers and Margaret off. And when I thought he was really going to
kill me, Cole Devitt brought his blade over my face and gave me these." He pointed
at his scars with one finger. "He said he would not kill me, yet he could never
forgive me either. He said he would not kill me, but he would bloody hell make sure
I'd forever be reminded of what I had done to his sister and our unborn child."
Agatha could not imagine Benedict Everard offering himself for a beating. No, not
even until now that he was telling her his story. She could not see him taking a
blow without a fight.
Benedict turned to Agatha with a wry smile. "They will serve as a curse, Cole had
coldly said, for he was certain that no woman would ever look at me the same way
his sister ever did." Agatha's eyes watered. Benedict took a lungful of air and
sighed. "And I presume he was right. They are a curse after all and I lived with it
for nine bloody long years and will continue to do so for the rest of my life." A
tear dropped from Agatha's eye and she quickly brushed it away with the back of her
hand. "There is not a day when I would look myself in the mirror and not remember
everything. And there is not a day when I would not feel the same repulsion
everyone feels when they see my face, whether or not they are privy to the story."
"Your scars do not repulse everyone, so stop thinking such." When he merely turned
to face her with his brows arched high in disbelief, Agatha's eyes flickered with
annoyance. "They do not repulse me, you foolish man." She scowled at him when his
expression remained doubtful. "They really don't! You are more than your scars.
They do not speak of who you are and I am quite certain one could get used to
seeing them-those who are bothered of them-and see you for who you truly are."
Agatha may have seen his face turn soft, the hardened lines replaced by a look of
wonder as he listened, but she did not bother to stop and digest them for she was
quite busy making her point. And she continued to do so even when she saw something
new erupt in his eyes-a look of intent-before his hands came up to pull her
spectacles out and set them aside. But despite that, she kept on talking for it was
the only way she knew she could fight him off. Yet she did not wish to fight him
off so she kept talking about something that had nothing to do with making him stop
whatever he was planning to do. "Your scars are not repulsive. It is your attitude
toward them that is," she was saying as his hands returned to trap both sides of
her face and his face leaned closer to silence her mouth.
Before Agatha could halt her thoughts, Benedict Everard was kissing her once more
in a garden.

XVIII. Drunken Night

Unlike the first one, Agatha found herself almost immediately answering Benedict's
kiss. And like the first one, it was slow and intimately sweet in more ways than
one. His hands were firmly cupping the sides of her face as though he was holding
in form a broken vase.

And when his lips tugged on her lower one, urging her to open and accept him fully,
Agatha angled to the side, her hand absently sliding up behind his nape to pull him
closer as her mouth opened to welcome his tongue. Unlike the last time, she greeted
him and enjoyed the warmth that spread from the midpoint of her torso outward to
the tips of her fingers, igniting everything in its path.
Their breath became heavier, mingled together in a chorus of unexpected desire and
need. She desired to feel more of the unknown and she needed him for it. It was an
odd thing to feel but she found herself welcoming it.
How far could it go? How long would it last?
She wanted to know as much as she wanted to make this moment last.
For it soon had to end.
His right hand was now resting on her nape, while his other arm wound around her
waist, pulling her closer toward him. She inhaled sharply, relishing his smell,
storing it in memory. A moan escaped his lips and it was only then that Agatha
allowed her eyes to flutter open and gather the courage to tear her lips from his,
ending the kiss.
Benedict allowed her but did not let her go. His dropped on her shoulder while
their breathing evened. Leaning her head to the side to rest against his temple,
Agatha closed her eyes and swallowed. She could clearly picture the two of them in
her mind, his forehead on her shoulder and her cheek against his hair.
She could stop there and appreciate the picture all she might, but reality was
utterly cruel for the picture was that of a woman in a grey, cheap dress and the
man in his expensive dress shirt and coat. The contrast was too striking for one to
ignore.
"Please, my lord, do not kiss me again," she found herself whispering a plea while
she had the courage still. Later might be too late to speak out of logic.
Instead of a response, he remained motionless against her.
"Promise me this is the last time. I do not think I could stop us again and if it
were to ever happen, we will both regret it."
Finally Benedict raised his head and looked into her eyes. Their green depths
seemed serene as they searched hers.
"Please, promise me."
The corner of his lips twitched. His hand reached for her spectacles and replaced
it over her eyes and nose. Suddenly his face became very clear and she could see
each fine line, each scar clearer and his eyes even more so captivating.
But he had not given her a reply thus far. In fact he was standing to his feet,
having reached for his crutches, and...
The bastard was bloody walking away.
"My lord!"
He stopped, his back facing her. "I do not easily make promises, Blair, especially
ones I cannot keep."
Her eyes widened in surprise and her jaw dropped at his confession. "But you are to
be married!" she blurted after him, confused how she ought to feel-anger? Joy?
That made him pause once more. Agatha held her breath. "Marriage, as you may very
well know, Blair, does not necessarily mean anything more than an agreement."
"Not with the people I know!" she retorted, ignited. "You ought to stop...stop
whatever you are doing with me for Lady Frances' sake! She'd be horrified-"
"My marriage with Frances does not have anything to do with what she wants. It is
more likely about what our families need."
Agatha jumped to her feet and marched forward to circle him and finally face the
bastard. Fuming, she stared at his almost-amused face and bared her teeth. "Well,
be that as it may, but let me tell you, my lord, that I am not among those you
could take as your mistress if you are planning to have one."
His brows cocked high. "You will not even consider it?"
She gasped. "How dare you to even ask!" She kicked his crutch and whirled away from
him to exit the garden.
"Blair!"
"I am going back to your study and if you could make yourself a tad more proper, my
lord, I shall be willing to resume work!" she uttered over her shoulder as she
walked on.
"Blair!"
*****
For what it was worth, Agatha thought it best to ignore what happened. She had long
recognized that ignoring Benedict Everard could merely lead to him being provoked
to do something utterly foolish.
If she acted as if nothing happened, she might just survive the remaining days
until he'd leave for Devonshire. And when he came back with his sisters and Lady
Alice, Agatha would by then be leaving.
A perfect plan.
But not quite so.
Three days after the kiss, both of them continued working on his missives that
seemed to have no end. And when there was no need for writing missives, he'd find
another task for her such as computing his accounting work, to which she had
commented that she was not confident in.
But he was the lord of the manor and she was his secretary.
"But your foot is now fine, my lord. I do not see any more reason why I have to do
this," she finally complained, after having to suffer an afternoon with him pacing
about his study doing naught but be a distraction.
"You keep doing what you are doing, Blair. I am paying you for it," he murmured,
not taking his eyes off the book in his hand.
Agatha's eyes flickered toward his once injured foot, considering and calculating
the possibility of causing yet another injury, one that would border fatal. Her
eyes raked over his feature across the room where he was lounged in a chaise doing
anything but work. "And if I refuse to work any longer?"
"Then I'd simply think you are once more trying to avoid my presence as you did
before because of what we shared in the garden."
She scowled at his easy demeanor. He had said the words so simply it was almost
scandalous. He was teasing her once more, she thought for certain.
"Don't you have calls to make? Surely now that your foot is ready to bounce about,
you could finally call on Lady Frances. She had been sending you missives and you
have not even opened them."
"I did not know you've been counting her missives, Blair," he replied, eyes still
cast down on the book resting over his crossed legs.
"It is quite hard not to miss them. They are gathering dust on your desk," she
countered, eyes fixed on him.
"I'd see her soon before I leave for Devonshire. There is no reason to fret."
"If I may speak my mind, my lord," she asked.
"You've been speaking your mind quite too often it is a shock that you even
bothered to ask."
Ignoring his remark, she said, "Lady Frances may appreciate a surprise call from
you. I am sure she had been quite worried."
"Worried her family would lose such big fortune if I meet an unfortunate demise."
"My lord!"
Benedict shut his book close and finally met her eyes. "I am quite tired. You may
retire."
"You are avoiding the conversation."
He came to his feet. "Yes, I am."
"You are not even denying it."
"Why should I?" His gaze hovered down at her as he walked closer.
"Why were you?"
"It is the same question."
"But both require different answers considering they came from both ends."
"Then you answer first."
"I'd prefer if you do the honor first, my lord."
"I asked first, Blair."
"Then I shall remain content having not heard your reply."
His lips twitched. "As should I." He stepped back and motioned with his hand. "Now,
would you care to retire?"
"Indefinitely?"
His eyes narrowed into slits. "For the time being."
She dropped the dipping pen in the inkwell and stood to her feet. "Very well," she
snapped as she curtsied.
"And care not to slam the door when you leave," he added as she pulled the door
open.
"Yes, my lord," she uttered and walked out without closing it.
"Blair!"
*****
Agatha had an unexpected caller the next day.
"Lady Victoria," Agatha uttered with concern.
Margaret's friend waved her hand to brush off her words. "How many times do I have
to repeat that you can call me Tori, Agatha? You call Margaret by her name but you
cannot call me by mine?"
Agatha flushed. "It was only because she had threatened to kick me out of the
manor," she explained.
"Ought I resort to such threats then?"
She shook her head. "Of course not, my lady."
Tori sighed. "Mayhap another time. I came with urgency."
"Yes, I have assumed, considering you know Margaret is not in residence."
Worry and panic started to creep up Tori's face. Her blonde hair looked rather
hastily arranged and her dress not her usual fashion whenever she came for a call.
"I have a favor to ask of you, Agatha. I badly need Margaret's help."
"But don't you need Lord Devonshire instead? I am certain he could send for
Margaret-"
"No!" Tori cried out, then checked herself and repeated, "No," in a lower tone.
"Please, this must only be known to you."
Something was obviously causing the beautiful lady such distress. Agatha would wish
to know the reason, but she was in no position to ask. So she simply nodded and
accepted whatever words Tori told her.
"Send this to Margaret the soonest possible time you could," said Tori, handing
Agatha a sealed letter. She took it in one hand.
"That is all?"
Tori nodded. "I would send it myself if I could. Please, Agatha, send it soon."
Agatha nodded. "I shall. Patsy, the chambermaid, is about to come leave for her
holiday near Devonshire. I could ask her to deliver the letter right into
Margaret's hand. She can be fully trusted."
Relief washed over Tori's face. "That is marvelous, Agatha. I cannot risk
anything-" Tori stopped, probably realizing she had said too much. "Thank you," she
said instead, giving Agatha a grateful smile.
"There is naught to be worried about, my la-Tori," she corrected when the lady
narrowed her eyes at her. "I am always willing to lend a hand."
To her surprise, Tori's eyes welled up with tears and she pulled Agatha into her
arms. "Thank you." And just as fast, she pulled away and brushed her tears off her
face. "Now, I must go. I cannot be gone for long."
Agatha nodded. "Your letter shall be delivered fast and safely."
Tori nodded and with one last grateful glance at Agatha, she left as fast as she
came.
*****
Benedict set down the last missive Frances sent him. All spoke of the same thing:
the massive preparation for their wedding.
But in all fairness, she had asked once, in the eight missives she had sent, how
his foot was fairing. And worse, he could not find the will to write a single
reply. Not even a word could come to mind.
Frances was not the woman he could rely on to be genuinely worried about his
health. Yes, she was gentle and considerate, but like most gentry in her station,
she had been reared to be proper and kind. He wondered if she even knew what real
compassion meant for compassion was but a show for them. It was not something that
came naturally-it was something learned for them as part of being proper.
So what could he tell her apart from the fact that his foot had healed and that he
had kissed his sisters' governess? Twice.
And the fact that he kissed Agatha did not even raise a tinge of guilt in him ought
to signify that his relationship with Frances was not as deep as one would believe
it to be. Mayhap because he wanted it that way. Had he not thought her the safest
option when he asked for her hand? And he knew the woman would not even bat an eye
if she ever knew he was keeping a mistress. She would simply go on her way as most
married women in the Town did. They would all pretend that their husbands were all
loyal bastards and ignore the large fortune they spend over their mistresses.
Because it was proper. And it was what had been taught to them.
He read all of Frances' missives once more with a glass of brandy. When he was done
with naught but a blank paper in response before him, he drowned another glass, and
another. And another.
And another.
Bloody tarnation. He could only think of one thing as he read Frances' missives:
Agatha Blair.
*****
It was not part of the plan to walk in on the lord of the manor while he was
drunk.
The plan was to enter stealthily, return the book she had borrowed without consent
and find her way back to her room.
"Blair."
Was it possible to pretend she did not hear or met his eyes? Of course not.
"What a perfect timing. I was thinking about you just now," Benedict slurred with a
small grin on his face.
Agatha frowned. "You are drunk, my lord."
Benedict stood up with a slight sway and walked toward her. His eyes went to the
book in her hand. "You stole a book."
"Borrowed, my lord."
He stopped in front of her, far enough for her to smell the brandy. "I was thinking
just now, Blair."
Don't ask him. Simply step back and turn away. "About what, my lord?"
He gazed into her eyes before shifting down to her lips. His eyes lingered there
for a very long while before they traveled back to her topaz brown eyes. "Us."

XIX. Kaylock
He saw the surprise in her topaz brown eyes and he relished on it. It was always
such a victory to evoke such response from Agatha Blair. Her lips would part a tiny
inch and her eyes would widen to reveal the interesting play of colors in them.

A part of him was making a faint protest against what he intended to do. That
rational part, he must say, was fighting a losing battle. It had been hours since
he had started drinking and spirit was giving him the kind of strength he needed to
say what he must.
"Us?" she whispered.
Her eyes were drawing him in and he wished she would simply let inhibitions go.
Mayhap for just a short while. Mayhap for just this night. "Yes."
"You and I are not words I would wish to hear in one sentence all together, my
lord."
As expected, he thought of her reply. How did one go about seducing a governess?
Everything in him shouted it cannot be done-it ought not to be done. His logical
mind was telling him it was not proper. He was to be married to a lady who could
give his name and his family more than what Agatha Blair could. Yet he wanted this
woman. In fact, he wanted her so badly in a way he never wanted a woman before his
scars happened.
"You and I both know there is something, Blair," he found himself saying, daring
not to blink in fear of letting her eyes go. His hand came forward from his side to
lightly touch her fingertips. The overpowering surge of something was undeniable
and he saw it in her eyes. "There is something."
"And what are you suggesting by that, my lord?"
Blast the woman. Why could she not be like the others? Why could she not simply
give in and take what he could offer? Surely he could offer her more than what
other men could. He was not an Everard for naught.
His hand traveled up her arm on its own volition and the amazing thing was she did
not flinch away. He took an ounce of courage from that and said, "I suggest we
explore it."
Her eyes widened even further, but this time he saw a glint flash before them.
"Explore."
"Think not that I am seducing you as a selfish act, Blair. I know you are curious
as well."
"What you are saying is that we both forget everything. Forget status and society.
You, of all, are suggesting that a servant should-"
"You are not a servant."
"But I was. And what could a governess in my station ought to do?" Her eyes started
to fill with tears. "What you are suggesting, my lord, is that I forget who I am
for a brief moment. You are telling me to leave reality behind a door." She paused
for a while to stare into his eyes. "Yet how I see it is me waking up after that
brief moment-me walking back out that door to gather the harsh reality that this is
a stupid, foolish thing. Tell me, my lord, how should a governess such as I see
your suggestion, agree to it and not end up the sore loser?"
"But you want to know more of this, do you not? I see it in your eyes, Blair. I
know you. You may think you hide behind a mysterious secret, but I know you well
enough-"
"No, you do not, my lord." The intensity in her voice as she said those words
stilled his hand.
Almost instantly his mind cleared, and in a sudden his senses returned. What the
bloody hell was he doing? How did he let a lowly excuse of spirit and drunkenness
rule his actions?
"You do not know me-where I came from and what I did there."
Benedict tightened his jaw and stepped away from her. "Then tell me. I want to
know."
Agatha searched his eyes and her expression changed to one of determination and
knowing. Was she, perhaps, thinking that if he knew her past he'd have nothing to
do with her?
She stepped aside to walk past him to the wall of shelves. He watched her find the
spot where she had taken the book without his consent. "I was born in Kaylock, a
small village in the west. It is a rather conservative village such as the others
like it," she started, her back still to him while she absently studied the books
before her. "My grandfather was the only doctor the village knew, and when he died
my grandmother assumed his post despite the fact that women are not supposed to be
knowledgeable of such field. But people had no other choice but to ignore the norm.
We were too far in the west to hire a doctor if one had been willing."
Benedict walked closer and stopped by his desk to lean against it as he listened.
"She taught me and my two younger sisters the best she could. We did not know how
to read or write, as did our grandmother. Women were never taught anything but
household chores in Kaylock. We learned everything from what our grandmother taught
us and she did from her own observation of my grandfather's work."
"And your parents?"
"They died when we were young. A disease spread over the entire village. They were
not so lucky. Grandfather had always said that they were his greatest failures."
Finally, Agatha turned with a small smile on her lips. "My sisters and I were
raised by our mother's parents."
"That does not tell me why I ought to think the worst of you, Blair."
"It does not have to, but what happened after another disease spread across the
village ought to."
Benedict frowned. "What happened?"
She stared blankly in the air and hugged herself. "People started to catch a fever
that lasted for three days. On the third day, they just...die. The disease had no
other symptom and it left us all blank and confused."
"I have not heard of such disease."
She nodded. "Neither did we. My grandmother was too weary because of it. Everyone
demanded that she find a cure. I suggested we go out of the village and find a more
competent doctor but the people would have none of it. They believed that someone
had put a curse upon us and they feared that the other villages would think the
same and banish us all."
"What did your grandmother do?"
Agatha shrugged. "She could not do anything. We had done everything we knew. And
people started to get angry. Almost the entire village was getting sick but our
family wasn't. Before we ever had a grasp of what the villagers were up to, my
grandmother, me and my two sisters were captured and locked in our own cottage away
from the rest."
"Captured?"
"Witchcraft. It was our sin and in Kaylock, witchcraft is punishable by death."
"That is absurd, Blair. Why would-"
"We denied everything, of course," she continued without hearing him. "But the
vicar's wife and their child had started to show signs of the disease. It was the
last straw for those in Kaylock who had reservations of our guilt. Everyone started
to demand that we be killed."
"But you lived. You are here now."
"I did, but my grandmother and my sisters did not."
"My God..."
Her eyes shimmered with tears. "One night, the villagers could no longer wait for
us to be executed. They all came to our cottage with their torches and set it on
fire." A tear fell from her eyes as her lips shook. "I tried to save them. I did
try, but I could only do so much. Their doors were already burning and I could
barely breath through the smoke. I swear I tried to save them. But the fire grew
fast and wild and I couldn't-they were still inside when I jumped out the window."
"Agatha..." Benedict strode toward her in three giant steps but she held her hand
out to stop him.
"Do not pity me, my lord, for I do not need it."
"I do not pity you."
Ignoring him, she stepped back and leaned against the shelf, putting a good
distance between them. Benedict wanted to reach out to her, to hold her as she
cried. But her story was not over for she continued to speak. "I escaped the fire
through the window of my room." Her eyes finally lifted toward his. Tears streaming
down her face, she added, "I hid in the dark and I waited until the crackling of
the fire consumed their cries. And then I ran away and dared not look back."
Her eyes were issuing a challenge. Whatever she may be thinking, it was not what
was on his mind for everything in him wanted naught but to hold and comfort her-to
let her know that he understood. He knew how she felt, the burden of it all.
Yet her next words surprised him even more. "You are thinking I think I am
responsible for their death as you are responsible for the death of your friend's
sister. But you are wrong, my lord, for I do not believe I killed them or caused
their death. They were murdered by the very people we tried to help, the very
people who thought the worst of us when we failed. They are still hunting for me,
the vicar being one of them."
"The man who claimed to be your uncle," he deduced.
She nodded. "He is-he is my uncle. My mother had a brother."
"He let the villagers murder his own family?"
"I cannot say for certain if he knew. What I know is that he is after me."
"You've been hiding for years."
She nodded. "I have to. I do not intend to go back and face a crime I did not
commit."
"Then you are staying here. We can protect you. They will never have to-"
"And taint your good name? Put your family to shame for having a witch in your
employ? You of all people, my lord, ought to know the best for your family."
"You are not a witch, Blair. You have been scorned by your own village for all the
wrong reasons-"
"The rest of Wickhurst will not have the same opinion, my lord."
Her words struck him then and he could not believe the rage that surged inside him
upon the realization. "You are planning to escape once more."
"Disappear is more the plan."
"I will not allow it."
Anger flickered in her eyes. "This is the very reason why I do think we ought to
stop whatever this is you think we have between us, my lord. It is already bad that
you have someone like me as your governess. It will be utterly unimaginable if that
status should elevate to being your lover or your friend. That, I oppose to for I
will not allow-"
He could not possibly let her convince him otherwise for after everything he had
learned about Agatha Blair, there was nothing to stop him from grabbing her by her
shoulders and crashing his mouth down against hers.
Benedict pressed her against the shelf, causing a book to fall with a thud on the
floor, and did his best to not let her escape-for she did try to fight him, however
weakly and unwillingly. He let his lips tell her that he cared not about her past
as she did not about his scars. Wagering everything he could at that moment,
Benedict kissed Agatha Blair with an equal amount of tenderness and aggression
until she softened against him and answered his kiss.
After a long, breathless moment, Benedict tore his mouth from hers and trailed her
jaw until he reached her ear. "Be with me, Blair."
He felt her hands weakly push against his chest and gave up. She sighed. "How? I do
not see how that is possible."
"I don't know. I don't bloody know."
"Not a very tempting offer, my lord."
"But you are tempted."
She did not answer. He brought his hand up to cup her face. He closed his eyes
against her hair and breathed her scent. "Be with me, Blair."
However he did it, he could not ken, but he must have done something right. He knew
it the moment he heard her sigh and her hands came up to caress his shoulders, or
how she leaned her head against his in a tender way. He knew he won. "You ought to
throw me out of the manor, deliver me right to the vicar."
"It is the same as you telling me to go wash my face of my scars, Blair. I am an
Everard. We do things differently."
She chuckled. "And all the while I thought your siblings were different."
"And all the while I thought I was different," he whispered in her ear before
taking his lips further down to kiss the pulse that raced in her throat. "Be with
me."
"It is the same as you telling me to go back to Kaylock and let the entire village
burn me alive, my lord," she retorted in jest.
"No, it is the same as me telling you to be with me until I have a solution."
"To my crime? To the village who wants me dead?"
He leaned back and looked into her eyes. "Everything."
Agatha offered a faint smile with a shake of her head. "You cannot solve
everything, my lord."
"I am an Everard. Of course, I can."
"Even an Everard has a limitation."
He smiled at her. "Then you have not seen everything, Blair."
She gazed longingly at him and his chest almost welled with uncontained wonder and
awe. How could she look at him like that and not be bothered by his scars? And how
could she caress them with her hand as though they were not there at all?
Could Patsy the chambermaid be right? Could Agatha Blair be truly in love with him?
"Until the holidays," she uttered, drawing him away from his thoughts.
"Too short, Blair."
"It is all I am willing to give, my lord."
"Until the holidays. You will stay here with me. And when I go back from
Devonshire, you shall still be here."
She smiled. "Until the holidays."
*****
Agatha could not believe she had been such a fool to have agreed on such a vague
pact with Benedict Everard.
But she had been a happy fool as well.
Days after Benedict kissed her in the study had been filled with a lot of
flirtations and kisses. He would summon her to his study where they would both
pretend to work on his useless missives. Such activity would always progress to a
series of storytelling of their childhood-the happy ones. It would then progress
even more to them lounging in the chaise, talking about naught but the books they
had read and banter on views about politics and Mr. Jones.
To her surprise, Benedict Everard was in the same belief as his sisters that the
myth about Mr. Jones, who allegedly climbed down a hole from aboveground, was true.
And like Ysabella, he believed that the man had been captured and forced to marry a
young maiden whose father was a member of the League of Founders.
They were in one of their heated discussions one afternoon when Silas entered the
room unannounced and found them, Benedict twirling a lock of Agatha's hair in his
finger while she sat on the carpet while leaning against his legs with a book in
her hands. It took but one look from Benedict for Silas to clear his throat and
stutter his way out.
After that incident, Agatha made certain that her interactions with Benedict
Everard during the day would be as limited as possible. Although they had done
naught but kiss in the privacy of his study-which was no longer that private after
Silas' unannounced entry-Agatha still felt the intimacy, most especially when
Benedict resorted to visiting her in her chamber when she refused to go out at
night and spend hours in the study with him.
"What are you doing here?" she hissed when she found him waiting outside her door
the first time he visited.
"You did not come to my study this afternoon."
"There are no missives for me to write. Remove yourself from my door," she harshly
whispered, tugging at his arm.
"Either you let me in or I force myself on you." And he said it in a manner that
brought a tingling sensation up her spine.
"I do not even understand why you find the need to be with me. We barely do
anything that would equate to something great," she sighed as she opened the door
wide for him. He slipped inside and found her mouth almost immediately after she
closed the door behind her.
"I wonder about the same thing too," he uttered in a serious tone after he leaned
away from her. He walked to her bed and flopped upon it.
"Whatever do you think are you doing?" she demanded, hugging herself over her
nightdress.
"Do not fret, Blair, I am merely here to talk. I was getting bored. Silas could not
even keep a good conversation to a good level of consciousness."
"Perhaps because it is night time and you ought to be in your bed and not mine,"
she snapped, padding her way to the other side of the bed. He allowed her to push
him away, putting a good distance between them.
Silence lingered around her bedchamber for quite some time. It was one of those
moments after that night she told him about her past that she wondered what they
were doing, really. How had it come to this? Why had she let it come to this? And
where could this be leading to? Was it even worthy of such wonder?
Benedict found her hand and laced his fingers through hers. He lifted it to his
lips. "It is rather stupid of your village to think of you as a witch."
"And I am thinking it is rather stupid of you to not be bothered about it."
"I am not. You cannot be a witch."
"Why ever not?"
"You are not even bewitching."
She tried to pull her hand away but his grip tightened even more. "Well, perhaps
you are bewitching in a way, but-"
"You are the worst when it comes to flirting, my lord."
"Benedict."
"Pardon?"
"It is about time you call me Benedict."
"No."
"Why ever not?"
"Because it is not proper."
"It is not proper I am here. It is not proper I kiss you every chance I get. It is
not proper you allow it. It is not proper-"
"Fine! Benedict it is!"
He flashed her a quick smile. "Good. Now, go to sleep."
"Now, remove yourself from my chamber."
"Now, go to sleep while I wait until you do so. And then I will leave your
chamber."
"You will watch me sleep. My lord, you must believe me when I say that is rather
creepy."
"Benedict."
"Benedict."
"Now, go to sleep." He pulled her toward him, resting her head on his chest. "And
this is not creepy. This is rather nice."
She could feel the muscles in his chest tighten. How could she sleep knowing she
was wrapped in his arms and he was a hairsbreadth away from her?
"You are proving hard to seduce, Blair," she heard him mutter.
She feigned not to hear and asked, "What did you say?"
"Nothing."
Agatha smiled and closed her eyes. "Mayhap you ought to try a bit harder," she
murmured.
"I rather like a good challenge."
*****
The next day, Jefferson delivered a sealed note to Agatha.
She did not have to open it to know where it came from. The red seal told her so.
If this note finds you, it means only one thing: I can get to you.
The note fell from her shaking hands.
The Vicar had made his move.

XX. Ruby
Many people around Wickhurst were starting to leave town to attend weeklong parties
hosted in different towns, and many were starting to come from other towns to do
the same in Wickhurst as well. This seemed to put Benedict in an unexplainable
unease.

The holidays were coming to an end and the season shall resume. And his wedding
with Lady Frances Highmore was fast approaching.
Time was ticking too fast he could barely keep up.
It seemed that Agatha was also feeling the same. In what he would call their
unusual flirtation of reading books together and stolen kisses in different corners
of the manor, he started to feel that she was getting more withdrawn as days went
by.
He could not blame her for there was no real name to what they were doing. He had
asked her to be with him and she did-for the holidays. And what had they been doing
while she was with him? Not a bloody satisfying thing.
For that's how he'd usually find himself feeling whenever she had to leave him
alone in a room-unsatisfied. He'd feel like the total fool that he was when he was
with her, each second a moment he'd rather be trapped in, and it would all go away
when she did.
He had long passed the phase of denying her effects on him. Bloody hell, he had
accepted that he was utterly, irrevocably besotted. That fact alone was enough
reason for him to not seek her out in the night simply just to be by her side, to
breathe the same air she did and hear her voice.
If he were an ordinary man close to her station, he'd know what to do. If he were
not Benedict Harold Morgan Everard, Lord of Devonshire, he would care not for
propriety and simply sweep the governess off her feet and take her to the nearest
church.
He could almost imagine what life would be with Agatha Blair. It would be filled
with intelligent discussions of any topics they both enjoyed. It would be filled
with nights of discovering what they were both afraid to find together now. And
they would be days where he'd be with someone who did not see him for his scars.
But they were days that couldn't be. He had his name to protect. Because it was not
just him who carried it, it was not only his to taint. His sisters the most would
need a good, untainted name for them to marry someone of their choosing. His mother
did not deserve the scandal either.
He may dare, but it would be disastrous. Wickhurst would never forget. It was
ironic however, that they could swallow the knowledge of many gentlemen and lords
who kept numerous mistresses but could never accept someone to rise above their
station through marriage.
There were men, who braved such incredulous societal norms, yet he was yet to hear
someone like him-the head of a wealthy family who was expected to sire pure blooded
heirs-who did the same thing. His burden was not only the expectations of society,
but his own bloodline.
Men of his status could only get one chance of true happiness, and most often they
could never keep it forever. It was the most devastating thing, really, but he
would take what he could until it was time to step up to his name and be Lord
Everard of Devonshire once more.
He sought Agatha that same afternoon and invited her for a walk in the woods. To
his surprise-for he had expected otherwise-she accepted the offer.
Ignoring Silas and Jefferson's curious looks, Benedict ordered for the carriage to
be brought out for he and the governess would take their work outside.
"I cannot believe we dared do this," Agatha uttered once inside the carriage.
"Anyone could see us."
"We had ridden a carriage together once before. When I bought you your spectacles,"
he reasoned as he stared outside the window, the back of his fingers resting
against his chin. Realizing something, he turned to look at her with narrowed eyes.
"And you are not wearing them as often as you ought to."
"I only find use for them when I am reading or writing." Taking her answer without
need to contradict, he returned his attention outside. She joined him by the
window, their faces a foot apart. "It is rather dire, don't you think?"
"The Town?"
"No, the holidays."
He turned to face her, a curious look on his face. "Why do you think so?"
Her brows were furrowed together in a frown. "I do not know, really. It just feels
so."
He pushed away from the window and leaned against his seat. "You are with me on a
carriage ride to the woods in such time like this and you think it is rather dire.
However do you think I ought to take that?"
She let out a lopsided grin and leaned against her seat as well, crossing her arms
over her chest. "Everything I think or feel ought not to be about you, my lord."
His brows rose up. "Now I wish to go back, lock myself in my chambers, and mourn
for my uninteresting, pathetic self."
Agatha let out a laugh, one she often award him for his tasteless jokes. He scoffed
in disbelief. It had always been a wonder how he learned to make her laugh when it
was but a few weeks ago when she gave him naught but a blank, dry look.
As he stared at her sitting across from him with her eyes glimmering with mirth
when it was merely a minute ago that she had claimed the holidays to be dire,
Benedict was once more torn between his desire to make her a permanent part of not
just his carriage but his life and his strong will to maintain his family's good,
untainted and pure name.
He did not need Frances Highmore's beauty to sit across from him for he knew it had
already been taken by someone unlikely yet perfectly deserving. If only society
could see it the same way.
*****
Agatha stared blankly in the air hours after her walk in the woods with Benedict.
Patsy was currently-and quite loudly-cleaning her chamber.
Finally, the chambermaid broke her silence and uttered, "The servants are not
seeing your current relationship with his lordship in a good light, Aggie."
"Hmm?" voiced Agatha, her mind still in the woods and the kiss behind the tree.
"Aggie!"
Agatha blinked and she was suddenly drawn away from the snowy woods back to the
gloomy room that had been hers for nearly two years now.
Patsy's small form was blocking her view of the decorated wall across the room with
a perplexed look on her face. "Aggie, you are acting very differently. Do you care
not that this could lead you to a disastrous end? Servants talk with other servants
and other servants talk with their masters and mistresses. Whatever it is you are
doing with his lordship, it should be stopped-both for your good and his family's.
You all do not deserve what would come out of a scandal."
She had thought of the same things Patsy was telling her too many times. In fact,
she had spent countless nights doing naught but weigh the consequences and they
always resulted against her favors. Yet it would not have to end that way. No, she
would never let it come to that. She was leaving Wickhurst soon and before any
scandal could arise-and even if it would-she'd be gone long enough for it to never
happen or die in haste at her absence. She'd take all the time she could get from
this stolen time with Benedict Everard.
But she was not telling Patsy that. Her friend would merely berate her even further
for being such a stupid fool. So, instead of taking the conversation further,
Agatha gave her friend a smile and uttered, "There is naught to be worried about,
Patsy."
Her friend stared at her with a pitiful look on her face and Agatha almost-almost-
hated it. "I do pray every night that you would not land into a bad situation
because of the rumors, Aggie. You do not deserve it. You have been through so much
to get where you are. Please, do not let it all go to waste. Avoid his lordship at
all cost."
Agatha came to her feet and walked to the door. "Do not worry, Patsy, the holidays
are almost over. Before we know it, the twins will be back and so will Lady Alice
and Margaret."
Patsy sighed. "I do hope that when I get back you are back to your old self."
She laughed. "Please give my felicitations to your parents. And do not forget Lady
Victoria's letter. You ought to deliver it right into Lady Margaret's hand."
Her friend smiled. "You know I will."
"I know, Patsy. And by the by, you do not have to finish my chamber. Go along and
pack your things. It is about time you take your vacation."
"I still have three more rooms to clean before I can do that," Patsy said, turning
on her heels to continue working. "And do remember my warning, Aggie, please."
She let out a heavy sigh. "Of course."
*****
His attendance in the Highmore Christmas party was well-received by the guests.
Frances had not left his side as they moved from one group to another, greeting
everyone a happy holiday before the actual Christmas day. She tremendously did her
duty as his perfect future wife, praising him and his work and giving everyone a
rather convincing tale of how she had been at his side during his recovery from a
recent injury.
That-he had to admit-was rather too fabricated for his taste. But he ought to give
her credit for trying to appear perfect although it was apparent that everyone was
already in opinion that she was too perfect for him. That, also, was not a big
surprise.
Yet there was a brief moment during their time alone in one corner of the room that
he noted something different with Frances.
"And you are going straight to Devonshire in two days?"
"Yes."
She nodded, looking around the crowd who had gathered in the middle of the room to
witness one of her cousins play the pianoforte. "And how had it been with the
governess and the doctor?"
Benedict nearly dropped his glass of wine. "What about them?"
Frances had a frown on her face as she looked at him. "From my last visit to your
estate, we both witnessed the two of them having quite a moment. I left with an
impression that he would soon offer her marriage."
"They were merely talking, my dear," he bit out. "A man and a woman could talk and
not be branded a couple."
Frances shrugged. "If you say so. I am simply curious. He did seem besotted with
the woman."
"There is no such thing in play between the doctor and the governess," he said in a
rather cold tone that demanded for the topic to die.
Before Frances could say anything more, Benedict decided to take her to another
crowd where they could both pretend they were more concerned about each other than
a dratted doctor and his amorous intentions.
When dinner finally began, the discussion was still about the impending wedding.
"So, Benedict, are you ready for this great opportunity?" asked Lord Highmore as he
cut his pork into halves. For a moment he wondered if the old man could make it in
time for the wedding. His face easily turned scarlet, his size too large to be
considered healthy. Was being his future son-in-law a good enough position to tell
him to cut down his meals?
"We are very ecstatic to finally be a part of your family and even more so to
welcome you into ours," Lady Highmore added with a bright, gentle smile like her
daughter. "I am certain that your mother is equally excited as well."
"She is," he truthfully answered. "And so am I and the rest of the family," he
lied.
"Now, one could finally say the Everard line of jewelries can finally have rubies
in them!" one of Lady Highmore's friends uttered. "I have always wanted a fine ruby
stone in one of my Everard collections."
Benedict sipped his wine and swallowed before he answered, "One would also think it
rather ironic that Everards have to buy their own ruby necklaces from another
family. You ought to hear my sisters complain about it all the time."
Another woman whom he recognized as the stepmother of Margaret's friend, Victoria,
said, "Do make them as exquisite as always, Lord Everard. Ruby is a delightful
gem."
"If the Highmores would permit it, we shall do our best to give them justice, Lady
Ashdown. And may I ask where Victoria is? I was expecting she'd be in attendance."
Tori's beautiful stepmother sighed. "She was not feeling quite well, I am afraid.
In fact, I plan to go home early tonight to see that she is fine."
"It is rather generous of you to love a daughter you did not bear, Lady Ashdown.
Especially now that you have to do it all on your own," Lady Highmore praised.
"Tori is such a sweet child, Lady Highmore, although she could be very challenging
at times."
"She is past the marrying age, I believe?" Frances asked.
"More is the pity, dear," Lady Ashdown said, her face falling. "But hope still
remains. There are quite a number of gentlemen willing to take her for a wife."
"Then she ought to choose fast," his fiancée said.
Lady Ashdown's face lit up. "Ah, but she will. Soon, I hope."
Benedict dared not comment. If Lady Victoria Ashdown was planning to marry, he
would have already heard from his own sister. But since that was not the case, he
could hardly believe the stepmother. And he ought not to even entertain such
matters for it was a topic that should stay exclusive to women.
His night went by with more talks about the changes his union with Frances' family
would bring to the mining business. There was very little talk about a future heir
even, really, for the most paramount thing for both parties were the mines. Nothing
more, nothing less.
*****
Agatha opened her door knowing who was knocking from the other side.
She frowned at Benedict. "I thought you were at the party?"
He slipped inside and she closed the door. "An unwanted welcome, Blair," he
muttered. "Are you not happy I came home early?"
No, not really, she thought. He ought to be there with Frances where he ought to
be-where he was expected to be. But she wanted him here as well. Now, however could
she manage to answer his question?
She hugged herself over her nightdress and stared at him with bewilderment. He
looked distressed. "What is the matter?"
"I had a funny conversation earlier about you and Doctor Johannes."
Agatha frowned. "Doctor Johannes?"
"Yes." He walked toward her, his steps full of intent and her heart started to
hammer once more, just like it always did whenever he fixed his green eyes on hers.
"And it is of someone's belief that the doctor intends to marry you."
"Marry me?" she sputtered with disbelief. "We barely had a long conversation. Why
would he wish to marry me? And why were we even a topic in a Highmore party?"
He reached for her hands and pulled her close to him. "And what if he does?" he
asked above her, his breath brushing against her lips, completely ignoring her last
question.
Agatha blinked. "I honestly do not know."
He cocked an eyebrow. "You do not know. Why the bloody hell don't you know? Do not
tell me that you are-"
"Well, you have said it yourself that the twins are planning to match me with the
doctor. And if it is true and if he consents to be their victim, I might find it
hard to refuse."
His eyes narrowed into slits. "You will consider marrying him?"
Of course not, she answered in her mind. I am going away. "Mayhap yes," she
replied, prolonging her teasing. "Are you jealous?"
Benedict seemed to have a habit of giving her a kiss as both a reply and
punishment, and he did just that, claiming her mouth for a hungry kiss that stole
her breath. He blindly pushed her against the wall and pressed his hips against
hers, his hands tightly gripping the sides of her waist, igniting her senses to a
point that she barely had any care what happened next. Really, she would not have
cared anymore for if she was to steal as much from this short time with him, she'd
rather have more.
With a groan, Benedict tore his lips from hers and stepped back. His breathing
heavy, he raked his fingers through his hair. "As much as I would love to take you
now, Blair, I would not."
"Why?" she asked, breathless.
He stilled and stared at her in disbelief, surprised that she even asked. "I will
not ruin you."
"From someone who had been seducing me, I can hardly believe that."
"I just came from a bloody party held by my fiancée's family. I came there and was
once more reminded of what would happen after the holidays. It would be completely
unfair to you if I have my way with you and turn my back to return to my duties and
responsibilities."
Agatha's lips formed a faint smile. "I do appreciate the fact that you respect me
enough."
"I give you a higher regard than you might think," he snapped, turning away from
her.
Once she was certain that her legs had regained their strength, she leaned away
from the wall with a nervous laugh. "Well, I could now be certain what I'd call
this thing we have at the very least. We are not lovers and you have made certain
of that tonight." She smiled when he uttered something harsh under his breath. "Yet
we are not as we used to be as well for you do kiss me at every opportunity."
"And what do you ken we are, Blair?"
She cocked her head to the side with a quizzical look. "Friends?"
For the first time, he heard him roar in laughter. And it nearly brought her to
tears to see him do so. Benedict Everard could laugh!
"Friends," he said with derision. "Blair, friends do not kiss each other."
"Then we are both very loving friends. Not lovers, not friends. Something in
between."
He chuckled and for a moment it seemed that his scars had disappeared and she could
see the man that he once was before his father died and his friend became his
enemy.
Shaking his head, Benedict reached inside his coat pocket. "I have come to give you
this."
"No," she coldly uttered when she saw the velvet box. "No."
"What do you bloody mean by 'no'?" He asked, walking back toward her. "I got this
for you. You cannot refuse."
She could not tear her eyes from the box. "No, Benedict. I will not accept it."
"This is not an Everard if you are thinking it," he said with etch of irritation.
He opened the box and there, inside, lay a necklace. It looked elegant and
unmistakably expensive. The rich red stone was encrusted in a circular gold
pendant. It spoke of power and passion, of war and fire.
"It's a ruby."
"Wise of you to recognize," he said in jest, taking the necklace with one hand. He
placed the box on the table near them and with his eyebrows raised, he said, "Well?
Turn around so I can put it on you."
But she could not move. Her eyes were transfixed on his face. "Why are you doing
this?" she asked almost desperately.
"Because I want to."
She shook her head. "Benedict, this is too much. How could a governess own such
jewelry? I do not deserve it."
A flicker of annoyance crossed his eyes. "Not everyone can afford jewelry, Blair,
but they deserve one."
"If you really vehemently insist, then I'd prefer an Everard. I do not want a
ruby."
"Why?"
"You know why."
"No, I honestly do not," he retorted, "but I do know why I believe it is perfect
for you."
Agatha was almost afraid to ask why. Only the Highmores could mine rubies. Was he
giving it to mock her? To always remind her that he had chosen the woman who
represented it? "Why?" she asked anyway.
As he spoke, he walked behind her and locked the necklace around her neck. "Rubies
are the only stones the Everards cannot mine but always wanted and dreamed for," he
hoarsely whispered near her ear. His arms went around her from behind. He pulled
her closer and buried his face in her neck, breathing deeply. "And you are the
woman I cannot have but always wanted and dreamed for." He tenderly kissed her neck
and Agatha closed her eyes to fight the tears. "Whatever happens, Blair, I want you
to always be reminded that you are the ruby of one Everard."
*****
Two days later, Benedict left for Devonshire as planned.
Agatha had but a few days to prepare her departure. The Vicar may start to get
impatient and her feelings for Benedict may force her to do something foolish. She
had to make certain that by the time the Everards returned from Devonshire, she'd
be ready to leave.
And so she wrote Lady Mary Haverston a letter of inquiry. She needed her former
mistress' help after all.
XXI. An Everardly Dinner
"I do not think I will ever be used to being around this noise," his brother, Levi,
uttered in his seat.

Benedict leaned back against his chair, his legs crossed and hands easily resting
on both armrests, and studied his brother. "From someone who was a known charmer
and caused quite an equal amount of ruckus in his youth, you do not sound very
convincing." The sound of Emma and Ysabella's scream in one of the many corridors
of his Devonshire estate erupted. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. "But I
do understand your point."
Levi was perhaps the most gifted in looks among his brothers. The second of all
Everard children was the most charming as well. Well, perhaps once in his life,
when he still lived in Wickhurst and before he had inherited the estate of
Standbury from an uncle three years past. Since then, Levi faded from the
limelight, spending most of his time in Standbury, doing whatever he was doing to
restore the dilapidated estate. Women soon forgot about him and gave up. Rumors had
it that most of them believed Levi Everard had succumbed to depression due to their
father's death. That, of course, did not stop some of the mamas and their daughters
from hoping that someday the charmer would come back for a season to get himself a
wife.
"Leviiiiiii! You will pay for this, Ralph!" Emma's voice screamed from somewhere,
followed by Ralph's cry of, "For God's sake, Em, it was just a bloody bug!"
Benedict heard Levi groan and when he opened his eyes, he saw Levi with his head
tilted to the ceiling as if in prayer. "I miss Standbury."
"Levi! You ought to see something!" Ysabella breathlessly said as she stumbled
inside Benedict and Levi's hiding place, the unused study in the farthest corner of
the west wing. "Nick did something wickedly good to mother's horse and-Oh!
Benedict! You have arrived!"
"I was here since yesterday, Ysabella," he wryly replied. "And what did Nick do to
the horse?"
Ysabella swallowed. "Nothing. Err...goodbye." She whirled around and shouted, "Em!
Ralph! Ben is here! Did you know?"
Benedict shook his head and asked his brother, "Is it too late for a change of
plans? I am starting to believe Standbury will be a good place to escape."
"Mother will have a faint."
"Then stop the ruckus outside. I do not have the energy for it."
"Why me? You are the Benedict Everard they all fear."
"And I am bloody tired."
Emma and Ysabella shouted something at Ralph from somewhere, their footsteps
running wild along the corridor as Ralph's laughter faded away.
Levi slapped his thighs and jumped to his feet. He craned his neck from left to
right and stretched his limbs, getting ready for a battle. "Wish me luck."
"Good riddance," Benedict muttered as his brother stormed to the door and flung it
open.
"Ralph! Emma! Ysabella! Stop it at once!" Levi shouted at the top of his lungs.
"And where the bloody hell is Nicholas and Maxwell!"
"Oh for God's sake, Levi! You're bringing down the entire bloody place with your
shouting!" Margaret shouted from somewhere.
"We were not doing anything!" Emma cried out. "It is Ralph! He has a bloody bug!"
"I saw it! It is rather big bug!" Ysabella added.
"No, I do not! What bloody bug are you two talking about!" the youngest of the
brothers answered with a laugh.
"Benedict is coming out in a minute!" Levi shouted. "One dratted word above a
whisper from all of you and I will not lift a finger if he comes forward to whip
your arse!"
Complete silence followed Levi's roaring voice.
Levi returned to his seat across Benedict's with a satisfied smile. "There. Peace
at last."
"You children are going to be the death of me! All grown-ups and I still have to
endure all this! Where is Benedict? Levi! Why were you shouting! And Nicholas-what
have you done to my horse!" Their mother's voice was getting nearer with every
word.
Both men groaned in defeat.
Benedict wished he was back in Wickhurst. His mind was with Agatha and what she
could be doing now. He ought to have forced her to come with him. He ought to have
insisted more.
For a moment he felt a sense of fear, fear that her uncle might have done
something. He shook it off by assuring himself that she was safe within the manor.
She'll be safe, he assured himself. For the meantime, while he was away from
Wickhurst and Agatha, he had to find a way to help her escape her uncle.
*****
"I do have a question," Benedict said to Maxwell before dinner.
Maxwell turned away from their brothers playing pool. "A question? Interesting how
big brother is asking me one. What is it?"
"Never bother," he snapped.
"I was merely jesting, Benedict. You ought to loosen up. What is it you wish to
ask?"
Benedict watched Levi bend over the table in concentration while Ralph was trying
his best to distract him by leaning too close and coughing near his ear.
"What do you think would happen if I choose to marry someone below my station?"
It was apparent that his brother was stunned by his question. "You do know you are
asking the biggest pessimist in the family, yes?"
"Which is why I asked you."
Maxwell watched as Levi jab Ralph with the end of his pole. "Not too rough on the
young man, Levi," he uttered.
"Who is the young man?" Ralph cried.
"You are," Nicholas said, smacking the back of their youngest brother's head.
"Cough one more time and I'll throw you for the twins to roast."
When Benedict thought that Maxwell would ignore his question, his brother said,
"Marrying someone under your station will be disastrous for our name."
His jaw tightened.
"Are you thinking to the level of a servant?"
"How about a governess?"
Maxwell's green eyes studied him. "A governess."
"Yes."
His brother shook his head. "It would be utterly scandalous. We have the twins, and
mayhap Margaret, to worry about. Little scandals and mischiefs are acceptable, but
a marriage below your station will prove to be very challenging. The girls are of
marrying age. We ought to see to their welfare."
"But if it were you? What would you do?"
"If I were you, I would not do it. It is too big a risk. You are the head of the
family. You carry the burden, brother." Maxwell paused. "But I'd keep the chit as a
mistress."
"The bloody hell I will."
"As I said, if I were you. But then I am not and I could bloody hell do whatever I
can."
Benedict fell silent.
"And who are we talking about, if I may ask?"
"No one," he lied. "A friend asked."
"A friend," his brother said doubtfully.
Benedict met his brother's eyes. "A friend."
"If you say so," Maxwell said with a wave of his hand.
The matter was dropped just as instantly.
*****
Christmas Eve was always an intimate event for the Everards. It had always been so
since their father had decided that such occasion ought not to be spent with people
they barely knew.
It was also a time the twins had always looked forward to. They may not like
spending time in boring Devonshire, but they adored the quality time they could
spend with their brothers, however infuriating some of them could be.
"Benedict," Ysabella spoke over dinner, her voice nonchalant but filled with
curiosity. "I am utterly relieved that your foot is now fine. Doctor Johannes did
an amazing job, did he not?"
Benedict merely grumbled under his breath.
"How many times did he call on you to check on your foot?" Emma asked beside her
sister.
"If you are wondering whether or not he and Miss Blair spent quality time together,
you are wrong," their brother snapped at the two of them.
Maxwell coughed from his side of the table. "Excuse me," he apologized, his eyes on
Benedict.
Emma and Ysabella shared a curious look as their eyes went from Benedict to Maxwell
and back to Benedict.
But Benedict was not finished for he added, "The doctor did naught but come and go.
If he was interested in something, it was my foot, nothing else."
The twins frowned. That was not what they heard Silas say to one of the servants
earlier.
"Oh, dear Lord, do not tell me you two are trying to match the governess with the
doctor," their mother uttered in a helpless voice.
"What is wrong with that?" asked Ysabella. "She deserves a fine man like Doctor
Johannes."
"Yes, I agree," Emma seconded. "And so does Margaret."
"I do not wish to be involved in this little project of yours, sisters," Margaret
uttered dryly.
"You two devils are bound to cause havoc on everyone," Ralph said from across the
table. "Don't you dare make me one of your subjects in the future for I shall make
sure that it would be your last."
"But we do cause quite a charming havoc, appreciated by those we match. Or have you
forgotten that we have been successful thus far?"
"Well, now that you say that, I believe it is about time Agatha should find herself
a husband. If this doctor is good enough for her, then she ought to consider him,"
their mother said.
"She barely knows the man," Benedict said coldly.
Emma kicked Ysabella's leg, both of them hiding a wicked smile. "He is rather
handsome. And nice," Ysabella said.
"And tremendously good at his job. People in Wickhurst call on him more often than
the old doctors."
Benedict threw them both a look that would have made them stop cold if they were
not feeling utterly amused by their new discovery.
"Why, Benedict, you seem to be the only one who do not approve of him and I wonder
why," Emma uttered in a casual manner as she forked her food. "What do you say,
mother? Agatha does not wish to be our companion. She may as well marry a good
gentleman."
"We can invite the doctor for dinner once we arrive in Wickhurst. He did, after
all, did a tremendous job with your foot, Benedict. And if he does express an
intention to marry Agatha, I believe it will give her a better chance in society.
That child has big dreams. He could help her achieve them."
The twins saw the disbelief flash across Benedict's scarred face. Something
happened while we were gone, they both thought.
"And speaking of people at home," Margaret interjected, "I have received a letter
from Tori requesting for my immediate help. I would be glad if we can return to
Wickhurst as soon as the holidays are over."
"Tori?" Levi asked with a frown.
"Victoria Ashdown," Margaret answered Levi. "Do not tell me you have forgotten
her."
"Ah, that girl."
"She is no longer a girl, Levi."
Levi laughed. "I do remember her, of course. You two have always been inseparable.
I honestly believe that she would have gone off to be married had she not stuck to
your side. She is still unmarried, is she not?"
Margaret threw their brother a darting look. "She is simply living a restricted
life."
"Restricted. Sounds boring, really."
"Says the man who hides in his estate at the southernmost part of the Town."
"Permission to speak," Nicholas said, breaking his silence. Levi and Margaret
turned to pay him attention. "Is Tori the girl who used to fancy Levi?"
Levi sputtered on his drink. "Oh, for God's sake, Nick, that was a long time ago."
"No, I believe it was merely five years past since Nick and I heard her say so.
Mother was there. Were you not, mother?"
Lady Alice's eyes flickered with annoyance. "That was a long time ago. And you all
know Tori. She does say things unconventionally. She may say things differently
from the way she thinks them. But she would have made you a good wife, Levi, have
you not given her a hard time."
"And what seem to be her dilemma now?" Levi asked Margaret, ignoring his mother.
"I cannot say, really. But she is in a rather desperate state."
"Well, then, if Tori needs your help, you ought to go back to Wickhurst as soon as
you can, dear," Lady Alice said to Margaret. "She had been a big help to you when
you-" their mother stopped herself and cleared her throat, not meeting Margaret's
eyes. "Well, you ought to go the soonest you can."
The twins were no longer listening for they were both focused on how Benedict's
face had turned seriously serious that his jaw twitched every now and then since
they had mentioned Agatha and Doctor Johannes. Ysabella gave her sister a knowing
look. Emma responded with a wink.
*****
Her letter was delivered by a hackney driver she paid for the unique, but not
entirely unheard of, task. She could no longer rely on the post to deliver her
missive without the Vicar intercepting it. She had given Lady Mary Haverston the
same instruction, should she provide a response.
She hastily went home, ever mindful of the fact that the Vicar could be anywhere
watching her every move.
She had done the best thing. It was what was right.
Leaving Wickhurst and Benedict was the only way she could save herself and the
Everards. And the Haverstons.
When Agatha reached the Everard manor, she saw a carriage waiting outside. Her
heart began to hammer against her chest and her feet seemed to get heavier with
every step. The curtain of the carriage window moved to reveal Lady Frances
Highmore.
Relief washed over her. "My lady," he greeted with a curtsy.
"Miss Blair."
Agatha straightened but dared not look at the lady directly in the eyes, as what
was proper. "Lord Benedict is at Devonshire, my lady. He is currently not in
residence."
"I am not here to see Benedict, dear," Lady Frances said. She said it in a tone
that bordered taciturn and animosity.
That made Agatha's head perk up to stare at the lady who was looking at her as
though she was naught but who she really was-a servant.
"I am here for you."
Agatha turned cold. "Me?"
"I've been having this crazy suspicion that you and my fiancé may be having an
affair," Frances said. She did not even bother to play with her words.
"B-but we are-"
"Do not take me for a fool, Miss Blair. I know a lie when I spot one." Frances
Highmore smiled coldly. And before Agatha could hide it, the lady's eyes landed on
the ruby necklace around her neck. Frances' once fair face turned scarlet. "You
ought to be ashamed of yourself, you wench. You will never change who you once
were-a mere servant who lives and breathes below stairs. You may be a governess
now, but you are no lady. I will not permit my future husband to dally with the
likes of you. It disgusts me."
Agatha felt her face heat up and her hands balled into fists. "Your insults are
misplaced, my lady. Your fiancé and I are-"
"My insults are where I intend them to be, imp." Lady Frances lowered her gaze to
look Agatha up and down. "For you to aspire becoming a mistress to an Everard is
ambitious at best. I will not have you as my husband's mistress. You are an
unacceptable insult to my station."
Agatha could barely form any words she wished to spit out. Her anger was too
intense that she found herself mute. She could barely hear anything as well for her
blood was rushing heavily in his ears. It was infuriating to stand outside Frances
Highmore's carriage and hear all insults thrown at her. She had never felt such
helplessness since the fire many years ago.
"Tell me how much you need, Miss Blair. I am certain I can offer a few townsends
for your quiet departure from Benedict's life."
"I do not need anything from you, my lady, but for one thing," she said through
gritted teeth.
Frances smiled. "Ah, so you do need something. Tell me, what it is you wish?"
"For you to close your bloody mouth, drive away and never show yourself in front of
me ever again."
Benedict's fiancée gasped in horror. "How dare you, you little ingrate!"
Finally regaining her wits, Agatha smiled at Frances. There was nothing left to
fear, no consequences for the words she uttered, or may choose to utter, now. She
was leaving Wickhurst and she might as well leave nothing unsaid. "I have heard too
many insults in my life to even lose sleep over them, my lady. Really, you ought
not to bother wagging your tongue to lash out on me. I do not have anything to lose
should you repeat them to others. But I do believe that your words could very well
ruin your wonderful, perfect good name if I were to talk to my servant friends."
"You dare!"
Satisfied with the look of horror that replaced the once-beautiful and angelic face
of Frances Highmore, Agatha stepped back and offered a mocking curtsy. Why was she
not at all surprised the lady was nurturing a monster inside her? Ah, mayhap
because most women usually did. "I do love dares, my lady." Agatha turned and
walked away.
"You will regret this, you wench! You have nothing! I will make sure that you are
to be thrown to the streets in no time!"
"Now, where could my servant friends be right now? I am sure they would love to
hear a good gossip of one Lady Highmore throwing threats to a defenseless
governess," she said in a voice high enough for the lady to hear.
Agatha later found herself locked in her room, shaking with rage. Rage toward
herself. She had wrought this. Lady Frances would have kept her façade if she were
not provoked.
She did not belong here any longer. She had done enough damage. How could she ever
face such animosity once more? She'd barely survive it, she was certain of that.
Endure a little bit more, Agatha, she told herself. Just a little bit more.

XXII. Aching Reminder

Agatha found herself sneaking out of the manor three days later. Staying indoors
and in her chamber was proving to be suffocating. She thought she'd rather risk
facing the Vicar once more than confine herself in one room with naught to do but
think of everything she had done thus far.

She did not hate Frances Highmore, nor did she condemn the lady for having had to
find the need to confront her for she was Benedict's fiancée and she had every
right to protect what she thought was hers.
Yet both she and the lady had acted in such loathing toward each other and had said
words that could never be mended.
She had been scorned when she was at her lowest, when she was feeling utterly
defeated for having to give up the only man she loved. What would she have done
when her own status was insulted?
Now that her mind had cleared, she could provide many examples on how she should
have dealt with Lady Frances. But the damage had been done.
She could face any crime she had committed if she knew she was at fault, but she
would never allow anyone to condemn her of her birthright and the things she did
not do. She'd gladly take a hundred whipping for kissing a man who was betrothed to
another, but she would never allow anyone insult her person.
A servant was a servant, a lady was a lady. She knew of such fact and she had every
intention to never cross the line. Why did she decide to leave Wickhurst in the
first place? Was it not because she was utterly aware of the repercussions of the
mistakes she and Benedict had made? Was it not because she could no longer live
with him while he lived his life? Was it not because she had plans of her own, a
life she wished to live without fear or longing?
Was it wrong to have stolen a glimpse of a future that could only be true in her
dreams? Was it wrong to have a taste of it, even for just a short time? Was it
wrong?
Yes, because you ruin more than you claim.
A tear fell from her eye and she hastily wiped it away. With her head bent, her
feet took her to an alley that led to different stores, most of which she had not
entered in the past. Having decided to enjoy Wickhurst while she was still here,
Agatha entered the bookshop. She freed her mind of fear of running into the Vicar,
of the pain that went with thoughts of Benedict Everard and the guilt she felt
toward Frances Highmore.
She'd deal with them all later. For now, it would be nice to find a good book.
*****
"Isn't it exciting? We are finally going home, Ysa," Emma exclaimed as the carriage
neared Wickhurst. Levi had gone home to Standbury while Nicholas, Maxwell and Ralph
opted to stay for a few more weeks in Devonshire before returning to their own
estates in Wickhurst. "I wonder what Agatha is up to?"
"Well," Ysabella said, looking at Benedict from the corner of her eye, "I do hope
she at least went for a walk with the doctor."
She gripped her sister's hand tightly when their brother's face turned grim before
he turned away to look out the window as though he was about to order for the
extinction of all bloody doctors. Margaret narrowed her eyes at Ysabella but did
not say anything and remained silently watching beside their mother and brother.
"Oh, I do hope they do end up married. They would surely sire wise and intelligent
children!" Emma said, acting awfully obvious, as she turned to Benedict and asked,
"What say you, Benedict? Do you agree?"
Their brother's jaw twitched and Emma gave Ysabella's hand a meaningful squeeze.
"If you and Lady Frances would bear children, we can arrange for them to have a
party with Agatha and Doctor Johanne's children!" Ysabella could not help but add.
Emma clapped her hands together. "What a marvelous idea, Em! Mother, you ought to
invite them often. Benedict and Lady Frances would surely not stay in Wickhurst
that often for they will reside in Devonshire after they wed and we'd be awfully
lonely most days. If we can have Agatha and her children around, it would make up
for the longing we'd surely feel if our nieces or nephews are away in Devonshire."
"Well, that is quiet a charming picture to think about, however too far in the
future it may be," Lady Alice said with a dreamy look in her eyes.
Margaret simply stared at the twins and shook her head.
Benedict, however, could no longer keep his silence and uttered, "It is too far in
the future, I agree. And too optimistic by far as well."
"Well," Ysabella huffed, "it is not entirely impossible."
"Agreed. Just wait until we weave our magic on the doctor and Agatha, Benedict. You
will soon find yourself attending their wedding," her sister indignantly added
beside her.
Their brother's face tightened, his eyes turning dark. "Aren't you two going too
far with this?"
They both blinked. "We have not done anyone any harm thus far. You could ask the
countless servants and footmen we helped-also Lady Belinda Haverston-and you will
find that we bring them only good."
"And have you asked your governess if she does appreciate your...intrusions?"
Emma shrugged. "She did not express dislike toward the doctor. I believe it is
enough sign to pursue this."
"Oh dear Lord," their mother muttered under her breath.
"Well, she did express to me otherwise," said Benedict.
The four ladies turned to look at him. "She did?" Margaret asked.
Benedict blinked and looked away. He cleared his throat and straightened his
otherwise straight cravat. "Yes."
"When?" Ysabella asked, her voice filled with suspicion.
"While you were all away in Devonshire."
"You had the time to talk with Agatha while we were away?" asked Emma.
"We do know how to converse," Benedict snapped.
"But you rarely speak to her," Margaret uttered with awe.
"Well, there was no one else sensible to have a conversation with."
"And of all topics you talked to her about the doctor?" insisted Ysabella, to which
Emma added, "And she had told you she dislikes him?"
"Not to a point, but she did say she does not plan to entertain him, should he
provide her attention."
The four women looked at each other, their faces filled with confusion.
"And why did you talk to her about such topic?"
Benedict looked stupefied. "The topic simply came up."
"Hmm..." Ysabella thoughtfully commented, leaning against her seat.
"Well, we ought to confirm this to Agatha."
"You will not," their brother hastily reprimanded.
"Why ever not?"
"Because she will not like it. She does not like to talk about the man."
Emma and Ysabella squeezed each other's hand tighter, hiding their wicked smile and
thoughts to themselves. Their plan had turned to a completely different direction
and it was even more so exciting.
*****
"Miss Blair! What a surprise!" Doctor Johannes greeted as she walked out of the
bookstore.
She gave him a curtsy and said, "Good afternoon, Doctor Johannes."
His eyes landed on the package in her hands. "You procured new materials for your
wards?"
"Oh, no, these are for my own pleasure."
The handsome doctor's smile widened. "I have always admired women who prefer books
over gowns."
She did not know how to comment on that so she simply smiled.
"Are you by chance going home?"
She nodded. "Yes."
"Then let me accompany you."
"If it will please you," she replied and they both fell to an easy walking pace.
She must admit that his presence was providing the security she needed for she
could never know when the Vicar would decide to reappear.
"How is your lordship's foot? I have not heard from him and I was only left to
assume that it had healed as expected."
"Yes, it did. He is walking about normally now."
Doctor Johannes nodded. "Say, Miss Blair, before I forget... are you by chance
planning to attend the Cinderella ball?"
"No, I do not think I am going," she uttered.
The Cinderella ball was held once a year in Wickhurst where all servants from
different stations could have their chance to attend a masked ball and meet other
service people, dance with them and be merry. They would be clad in their ball
gowns and made up hair. It was not only attended by service people, but by their
masters and mistresses as well. It was, perhaps, the only day-or night-where
society of Wickhurst could gather as one without the boundaries of their stations.
Yet it was also naught but a fantasy for by morning everyone would return to where
they had left their lives in a pause. Lords and ladies would resume their days,
satisfied with the fact that they had at least given back to the service people the
kind of generosity they deserved through the ball. The servants would then go back
to work, their dreams for the next ball put aside for the rest of the year.
"Why?" When Agatha did not respond, Doctor Johannes hastily added, "I beg your
pardon, but I felt I needed to ask."
Agatha smiled. "I am afraid I will not have time for it. I will serve as the
companion for both Lady Ysabella and Emma for the rest of the season." And I am
leaving Wickhurst.
"But if you change your mind, can I ask for your first dance in advance?"
She offered the doctor a smile. "Yes, of course, Doctor Johannes. It is rather kind
of you to ask, though I must warn you I do not dance at all."
He smiled at her. "One could always learn." For the first time Agatha started to
believe Benedict's statement about the man's intentions. He was handsome, yes. And
smart as well. But she could not feel anything more toward him but a possibility of
a good friendship.
They continued to walk back to the manor and Agatha was glad that the doctor
diverted the topic to a more comfortable one-books.
*****
Agatha was surprised when she arrived from her walk and found Ysabella and Emma
already waiting for her by the entrance hall.
She froze. "I did not expect you would be back so soon."
The two ladies ambled toward her, their faces excited. "Margaret is in haste to
return. In fact, she is currently in the parlor with mother and Tori," Ysabella
explained.
"And Benedict is also here, of course," Emma said, her tone suspiciously
mischievous.
Agatha swallowed. "He is?"
"Of course, he is. He had been dying to get back and we wondered why," Ysabella
said, pulling Agatha by her hand. "Now, please, do tell us about your holiday."
"There is not much to tell."
"Oh, of course there is," Emma uttered behind them. "Why don't we call for tea? Was
that Doctor Johannes we saw walking with you outside the window?"
*****
Benedict found himself outside Agatha's bedchamber later that night.
He stood there for quite a long time, weighing his would-be actions once he
knocked. The twins had said over dinner that Agatha did have a walk with Doctor
Johannes that afternoon and that the bastard had procured books for her.
He had left her alone for a few days and she risked her own safety walking out of
the manor with the doctor? Was she not the one who wished to escape her uncle?
You do not have the right to feel angry, his mind scolded.
Willing his raging blood to calm down, he lifted his fist and knocked.
He heard her faint footsteps from behind and his heart started to uncontrollably
race inside his chest. Drat it. Every bloody time.
The door opened an inch to allow only her eyes. He literally had the desire to push
the door wide open and take her in his arms. It took all his control not to do so.
"What are you doing here?" she hissed.
"Visiting," he uttered, realizing he could not stay still after all and pushed the
door open before she realized his intentions.
Benedict slipped inside and closed the door while Agatha stood gaping at him in
disbelief.
"My lord-"
"Benedict," he corrected, walking to her bed and plopped in his usual place. Mayhap
he'd let the talk about the doctor go after all. He was starting to feel
comfortable in her bed to start a quarrel over his jealousy over the bloke.
"The holidays are over," she reminded him.
His brows rose in question. "And?"
"And we can no longer do this-whatever this is."
"Well, you are not leaving, are you? I say this can continue as long as you are
here."
Frustration flashed across her face. She looked utterly plain and beautiful all the
same with her auburn waves framing her face. He could picture them damp with sweat
and...
Benedict mentally shook the thoughts away before he'd lose all control and devour
her in her own bed.
"I am leaving soon," she snapped at him. She was still standing where he had left
her by the door. "My lord, you ought to leave."
Bloody hell, he had not even kissed her yet and this had to happen. Benedict let
out a heavy sigh and jumped off the bed to walk toward her. He frowned when she
backed away from him. "Something happened. What is it?"
"Nothing happened, my lord."
"Blair, do not make me repeat my question."
Her eyes wavered. "There is naught to tell."
He did not press her but he did not dare hide his frustrations either. "Then would
you care to tell me why you do not think we cannot-"
"Because we are both fools and we ought to stop this!" she hissed, her topaz brown
eyes blazing in the dimly lit room. She circled around him and went to her dresser.
When she returned, she held out the velvet box he gave her. "I do wish to accept
this gift. I am returning it."
Benedict felt blood rush to his ears. His eyes flew from the box to her face. "It
is yours."
She shook her head. "I do not want it."
"Then throw it away," he snapped.
He watched as her tears glimmered with tears, but he was too frustrated and angry
to even try to console her. Her gaze lowered as she said, "You are to be married to
a lady with a respectable position in society. Do not ruin her good name, as well
as yours, by foolishly thinking we can be together in any way. I do no longer need
another moment with you. I do not need this gift or any reminder of the sins we
committed." When her eyes lifted to his and they were filled with a desperate need
for him to hear her.
"It is rather ridiculous to consider kissing a sin, Blair, for we have done naught
but kiss. Unless you wish to change that, I am only happy to oblige," he tried to
jest.
But she would have none of it. She shook her head, a tear falling straight down her
delicate face. "You ought to remember, my lord, that by being here with me you are
putting your relationship with Lady Frances at risk. And I ought to remind you,"
she added, shaking the box in her hand for emphasis, "that you will never have your
rubies if things go awry because of our foolishness."
Benedict's jaw tightened and he finally realized that she was completely serious.
The muscles around his shoulders tensed. She was rejecting his gift. She was
returning the very thing he could ever afford to give her. Bloody tarnation, he
felt like she had just offered him back his bleeding heart.
For the first time since he knew her he wanted to inflict her pain, the same one he
had to suffer now.
"You can do what you want with that gift," he said, his voice irrevocably cold.
"But tell me one thing, Blair," he could not help but ask, "You spent quite some
time with the doctor this afternoon. Is your decision tonight brought about by the
fact that you have changed your mind and now you believe you have far better
chances by aspiring to be a doctor's wife?"
He could not say that he did not deserve the slap that followed his question. He
slowly turned his head back straight to look into her eyes and the pain he saw
there stopped him cold. Her chest heaved by her act, her eyes wide with surprise
that she had indeed slapped him, but her mouth remained trembling and no words came
out of them.
He wanted to hurt her, yet now he regretted it as fast.
His breath became heavier as he stared at her and he wanted naught but to shout at
his own fate, at the prison society had thrown him into.
At that moment he knew he'd want to spare her of the burden of his name and honor.
He wanted to spare her of the fear he felt whenever he thought of her departure. He
wanted to save her from the scorn of society and the dangers of her own past.
And how else could he effectively do so but by staying away? By doing exactly what
she wanted?
"I'm sorry. That was uncalled for," he managed to say before he turned toward the
door. "Thank you for the reminder. I needed it."
*****
Agatha came downstairs that morning to learn that Benedict had left for Devonshire.
Even the twins were surprised by his sudden departure. One could say they were
nearly in the state of panic. Lady Alice, on the other hand, was greatly
disappointed for her son ought to start joining the preparation of his own wedding.
That afternoon as well, while she helped the twins prepare for their second ball
this season, a letter arrived from her.
Agatha,
I do sincerely hope that this letter reaches your hands. One of my servants is
related to one of the footmen of the Everards. You can use him for your future
missives as well.
I have received your missive and I assume you are in great need of help. As
disappointed I am that you no longer wish to be Ernest's governess, I do respect
your decision. I have started inquiries for a possible post for you the very moment
I received your request.
Do no longer fret, dear. I have found a perfect employer for you. But it seems that
the family will not be in need of your services for another two weeks. If you can
wait until then, do send me a reply and I inform them. I will also provide you with
the details you need, should you accept the post.
Always your family and friend,
Mary Haverston
Two weeks. Good enough.
Agatha folded the letter and ignored Emma and Ysabella's curious stares. She stood
to her feet and smiled at the two young ladies. "Do excuse me, ladies," she said.
"I will need to request an audience with your mother."
Emma and Ysabella frowned. "What for?"
"My departure."

XXIII. Behind the Curtain

The twins were informed of Agatha's imminent departure. They collectively agreed
that it was a reason to panic.

"Mother said that Agatha will leave the very moment they find an qualified
companion for us," Emma whispered to Ysabella.
"This is not good, Em. Ben is away and a paid companion is very easily found."
"She has found a new post which will be available after a fortnight. We must make
haste."
"Then what do you suggest we do? Drag Benedict back to Wickhurst?"
Emma paced before her sister, frustration on her face. "Why did he go to Devonshire
all of a sudden? He had not informed us of such plans. Was he not the one who
insisted that he accompany us and not the others?"
"Mayhap something happened with Agatha. If you come to think of it now, Ben decided
to go almost just at the same time Agatha announced her departure. Did they quarrel
about it?" said Ysabella.
"Well, we cannot waste precious time wondering about that, can we? We must think of
a way to put the two of them in one place. Otherwise this venture is doomed."
Ysabella's fingers stilled under her chin. "We must make Benedict come home. It is
the only sensible solution."
"How?"
She looked at her sister with a wicked grin. "We do have an experience writing
letters, do we not?"
Emma smiled. "And we do make them quite convincingly, yes?"
Ysabella stood from her chair. "Come, Em, it is time to find a good inkwell."
"We are using the doctor's name, right?"
"Of course. It is of uttermost necessity."
*****
His brothers would not leave him alone at first save for Maxwell who deemed it
necessary that their eldest brother be left alone.
"This is my bloody estate. I can return whenever I want," he snapped at Ralph when
his brother would not drop the matter.
He ignored the darting look Maxwell threw their youngest brother and Nicholas'
comment of, "I wager it is about a chit."
He kept to himself while his brothers rode around the crop fields to hunt birds
through the holes. Not a very wise hobby as most townspeople would agree, but the
thrill was all worth it as his brothers and their friends would claim.
Benedict would pretend to bury himself at what he would call work, locking his
study, but in truth he'd simply stare blankly at the wall adorned by portraits of
his ancestors, all Everard men of honor and good name. He looked at the portraits
of his grandfather's grandfathers, wondering how many of them had married the women
they truly wanted and how many mistresses they kept to fill the missing spaces of
their marriages. He knew his grandfather had had at least five mistresses
throughout his married life.
The only person he was certain was content with his own was his father whose
portrait was the latest of all in the line of paintings. He never doubted his
parents' love for each other. His father had said so himself that he was one lucky
bastard to have landed a lady who fulfilled his dreams. Lady Alice would claim the
same to this day. How many men in his family had been lucky as Harold Everard?
Mayhap it never occurred to Benedict that he'd find a need for the same kind of
marriage. It was never a doubt that he'd find himself in such a difficult situation
as now. He had grown up in a loving family, with parents who adored each other as
much as they adored their children. Mayhap he had always thought that the same
thing would happen to him.
And that may have been what caused him to make the wrong decisions in his youth. It
had made him reckless to a point that he ruined the only true friendship he had
with Cole Devitt. Leah Devitt had been sweet and full of life like his mother. At
one point he had believed she could have been the one when she told him she was
with child, and he had been prepared to marry her.
But things unfolded in many a wrong way and they had not fixed themselves since
then. He had not only lost Leah and Cole. He had lost a child. Yes, indeed, a
chance of a good future like his parents seemed bleak since then.
Until now.
Until he had gotten to know Agatha Blair, the woman who evoked too many responses
from him-both good and bad; until he had a taste of a certain future he had once
thought he could have when he grew up witnessing his parents' relationship.
But unlike in the past, he could no longer do what he desired. Agatha was not Leah
Devitt. She was no sister or daughter to a lord. She was someone considered a witch
in her own village, a woman hunted for things she had not done.
Yet she is who he wanted.
Benedict tore his eyes from the portraits of righteous men who seemed to stare at
him with derision, as though they had been waiting for him to do the next wrong
thing.
With a sigh, he stared at the letters that had arrived that morning.
It had not been five days since he had left Wickhurst and people from there already
started to remind him that he would never be forgotten.
My love,
I admit I was a bit surprised that you have gone back to Devonshire without making
a call, but I do understand that you have responsibilities. The wedding preparation
is coming along just fine. Your mother came calling yesterday to discuss about the
flowers. I hope you do not mind that I chose the pink roses. My gown is almost
ready and I am eager to see your face when you see me walk the aisle.
Please do come calling the very moment you arrive. Father would dearly appreciate
another discussion about the ruby mines.
Truly yours,
Frances
He set his fiancée's letter aside and picked up the next one, his mind already
wandering to the nearest liquor cabinet. He might need to start drinking before his
brothers arrive from their hunting trip and start ransacking the bottles until the
wee hours.
Benedict,
How unkind of you to leave without informing us!
He frowned and his eyes scanned the bottom of the letter to affirm the sender.
The twins,
Ysabella and Emma
Shaking his head, he returned his gaze to the top and continued reading.
You have left quite a lot of tasks, if you must know. Your wedding is fast
approaching and mother is dying with worry that you might not even arrive for the
said event on time. When are you coming back to Wickhurst?
We find it our task to update you of the many things that had transpired in the
short time you have been away. They are as follows:
Our cat, Mrs. Beagle, has finally returned home from her monthly disappearance and
we believe she is with child. Margaret thinks otherwise and that Mrs. Beagle is
simply fat. Patsy, the chambermaid, has come home and we heard that she had
accepted the offer of marriage from the milkman in her village near Devonshire. We
told Charlotte to find a replacement if Patsy opts to retire.
Benedict rolled his eyes, nearly tempted to not finish reading, but he caught sight
of Agatha's name in the middle of the tedious letter, that he was forced to
continue.
The Cinderella ball is in three days and mother has given us her word that we shall
attend it with some of the servants. Is it not exciting? We have always been
curious how our footmen would fair in dancing. It took us the whole day to convince
Miss Blair to come with us. After all, she is our lady companion and governess
still, and she will accompany us to more succeeding balls despite the fact that SHE
IS LEAVING in a week or so. Mother is already looking for a replacement and we are
praying the new one will not be dreadful.
With heavy hearts, we regret to admit that we might fail creating a match between
her and Doctor Johannes. She will not tell us where she is going, only that she has
found a new post. But we are not giving up! No, of course not! We know Doctor
Johannes is attending the Cinderella ball and we are certain that we can find a way
for him and Miss Blair to spend time together. After all, she had told us she had
already promised him her first dance, should she attend the ball. Now, you ought to
explain why you said she does not fancy the man when she had made him such promise!
By the by, we wish that you can come as well. Mother had informed us that Lady
Frances will be attending and we believe she will be greatly disappointed if you
cannot escort her. You are, after all, her fiancé.
We have procured another gown for Miss Blair under your name. We do hope you do not
mind. It is after all for her FUTURE WITH DOCTOR JOHANNES. She looks stunning in
the new gown that even Madam Vernice was found speechless for a long moment until
she recovered her breath.
We really hope she will not leave, but there is still chance with the doctor. He
has been sending her missives since our arrival from Devonshire and we are not
certain for how long it had been going on!
Please do send us a reply. We would love to hear from you. Give our loves to Max,
Nick and yes, even Ralph.
The twins,
Ysabella and Emma
Benedict crumpled the dratted letter and sent it flying across the wall, hitting
his great grandfather's forehead.
*****
Ysabella and Emma wore such mournful expressions even before they arrived at the
grand Cinderella ball. It was a masked ball attended by quite a lot of service
people and gentries alike. And as a matter of fact, it was the first ball where
Agatha felt unassumingly comfortable. She wore a black mask that covered her eyes.
It was adorned with little gems of different hues. She had at first refused to wear
it but the twins would none have of it, claiming they would never allow Everard
servants to go to the ball without being adorned by their gems.
Her gown was a shade of gold. She was afraid to inquire how much it cost for she
might not have gone at all if she found out.
The twins were wearing identical white masks with white feathers and laces, their
gowns the color of white as well and they had claimed it was merely necessary they
wear it for they looked rather dry the last time they had to stand beside Lady
Frances. This time, they had said, they might glow as well. Margaret went for a
deep green gown and a gold mask that covered almost her whole face. Obviously, the
lady was not hoping to be recognized at all. Tori was not in attendance, making it
even more so challenging for the eldest Everard sister.
"Was it not merely five days past since the two of you have been acting ecstatic
for this ball?" Margaret whispered to her sisters. "Whatever happened now?"
But the two were not paying attention. They were looking around the crowded
ballroom, their expressions defeated.
"He is not coming," Ysabella murmured.
"Who is not coming?" Margaret asked.
Agatha looked at the twins from the corner of her eye.
"Uh...someone," answered Emma. "This ball is a bore. Should we not go home?"
"But he can still come," Agatha heard Ysabella hiss at her sister.
At that exact moment, a familiar figure approached them. Margaret uttered, "Is that
not the doctor?"
The twins' head snapped to follow their sister's gaze, Agatha doing the same. The
man was wearing a black mask, but his familiar smile was obviously giving away his
identity. Unlike his usual attire of gray suit, he was handsomely dressed in black.
"Yes, it is him," Ysabella answered, turning to Emma with a groan.
"Well, he had been our first choice, you know," Emma whispered reassuringly.
Before Agatha or Margaret could utter a comment, the doctor had reached them,
offering the ladies a deep bow. After greeting the Everard sisters, Doctor Johannes
turned to Agatha and asked, "I do remember a promise once made to me, Miss Blair."
She could not help but break into a smile. Sighing with resignation, she turned to
the twins and Margaret. "I did promise him a dance."
"Go," Margaret said, gently pushing her away. "I will watch over the twins."
"Wait, but-" Ysabella started but Emma stopped her, gesturing over Doctor Johannes'
shoulder. Ysabella followed her twin sister's gaze. Agatha did the same and her
heart almost stopped in her chest.
Benedict Everard was standing not ten paces away with his fiancé in his arms.
How in the bloody hell did he come? Was he not in Devonshire?
"Well, of course, do give Doctor Johannes that promised dance, Agatha," Ysabella
said, pushing Agatha rather roughly toward the young man.
"And do give him the next one," Emma added with a big smile on her face.
"Do give him more than two if you must. We shall not mind," Ysabella said, her
voice rising an octave higher as she added, "Go, Agatha, dance with DOCTOR
JOHANNES!"
Agatha saw Benedict follow her with his dark gaze as the doctor led her to the
dance floor, chuckling at the twins' words. She, on the other hand, was nearly
stiff. However could she manage a dance with Benedict Everard scowling at her?
"Benedict!" she heard Ysabella and Emma's embroidered greeting behind them, "What a
pleasant surprise! When did you arrive from Devonshire?"
*****
Benedict wanted to throttle his sisters' necks, but not as much as his desire to
make the doctor his first victim. As his eyes darted from his beaming sisters to
the dancing pair in the middle of the ballroom, his hands balled into fists. He did
not bother to wear a mask for two reasons: one, he was in great haste to come to
the ball. Two, why bother wearing one when his face was good enough? Yet now he
wished he had worn one for he knew that his face had turned scarlet with rage.
And he knew the reason for his sudden anger. There, in the middle of the dance
floor was the woman of his dreams, dressed in probably the most astonishing gown in
the ball, dancing with a very besotted lad that was not an Everard. And she was
bloody smiling at him as though she had not seen him.
"Let us dance," he snapped at Frances who seemed surprised when he suddenly pulled
her to the dance floor. He swiftly turned his fiancé around until they reached his
subjects.
He saw Agatha's eyes flicker toward him behind her black mask. God, she was
beautiful. His hand tightened around Frances'.
"My lord, do loosen your grip. I will not run away if you are thinking that,"
Frances whispered to him in a jesting tone.
Benedict did not hear her at first for his attention was fully on the dancing
couple beside them. His eyes locked with Agatha once more. He could still very well
remember the last words they uttered to each other.
"My lord?" Frances' voice whispered below him.
Snapping back to his senses, he stared down at the beautiful woman wearing a black
mask below him. She was the dream of many lords and gentlemen around Wickhurst.
But not his. His was but a few paces away dancing with another man.
His jaw tightened and he forced a smile on his face. "Forgive me. I do have a lot
on my mind."
Frances' eyes flickered toward Agatha and the doctor. Her lips thinned before she
smiled and uttered. "I understand, my lord. We are both very preoccupied with many
things now that the wedding is fast approaching."
Benedict could not find the right response. The air had suddenly gone heavier and
he found it hard to breathe. He wanted to leave everything behind and just go as
far away as he could.
Blast it, why did he bloody come here? He could be spending a quiet night in
Devonshire right now with a bottle of brandy.
But as Agatha's golden form passed the corner of his mind, he knew why he was here.
*****
"He is such a stupid fool. Really, he is!" Ysabella moaned beside Emma as they
watched their brother dance with his fiancée, merely a few paces away from Agatha
and Doctor Johannes. "This is not going so well as we expected, Em."
"Have faith, sister. Men do stupid things when they are jealous. Let us wait a bit
more. He did come, did he not? Just like how Mr. Haverston came bounding to
Wickhurst when we sent him that letter."
"I will pretend I did not hear a word, sisters," Margaret uttered with horror
beside them.
"And you have our gratefulness, Margaret," Ysabella said, beaming at their sister.
"You are indeed a wise lady," Emma added.
Their attention returned to the dance floor as the music ended and another began.
Both of them sighed when Agatha and Doctor Johannes stopped and started to walk
away. Benedict and Frances did the same, walking to the opposite direction.
Ysabella and Emma groaned in silent protest, eyes following the two couples as the
distance between them grew further.
Emma followed Agatha and the doctor with her eyes. Doctor Johannes uttered
something to Agatha, the lady nodded and he walked away to the direction where
refreshments were being served. Ysabella, on the other hand, was focused on
Benedict who was obviously watching the doctor. As Doctor Johannes left Agatha, he
hastily whispered something to Frances before he walked to the same direction the
doctor took.
Ysabella gasped and gripped Emma's hand with excitement for instead of coming for
refreshment, their brother had made a sharp turn and was now purposefully walking
toward the governess, his expression dark and his steps full of intent.
"You might want to hold off Lady Frances, sisters," Margaret murmured beside them.
The twins turned their heads to where Lady Frances was standing. The woman was
craning her neck in search for Benedict.
"Uh, yes, of course," Emma uttered, jumping to her feet and pulling Ysabella with
her.
"I cannot believe I am foolishly joining this scandalous plan," they heard Margaret
mutter as they walked away.
"Lady Frances! Looking beautiful and elegant as always!" Ysabella said as they
approached the lady.
"Oh, we do have a few inquiries about the gowns we shall wear for the wedding. I
hope you do not mind?" Emma added, her arm looped around her sister's.
From the corner of their eyes they saw Benedict dragging Agatha away from the
ballroom and they both squealed in their minds.
Now, how to distract the unwanted fiancée?
*****
"My lord, I am warning you. Let go of my hand at once! Where are you taking me?"
Agatha hissed behind Benedict, but the man was completely intent in dragging her
out of the ballroom and into an empty, dark corridor. With a few more resisting
tugs from Agatha, he managed to find a door, push it open, peek inside and finally
pull her into the privacy of the library.
Once free, Agatha attempted to escape but he quickly blocked her path, grabbing her
by her shoulders.
"What the bloody hell were you doing dancing with Johannes?" he demanded. "Did you
do it on purpose? To infuriate me?"
Her eyes widened. "Of course not! I did not even know you were coming!"
"So it gave you the excuse to dance with the first man to offer?"
"Yes, of course! And even if I knew you were coming, I would have still done the
same-"
The rest of her words were smothered by his hand suddenly clamped over her mouth.
"Hush!" he hissed above her. She reached for his hand to tear it off her face but
he harshly whispered, "Someone is outside."
Eyes wide with surprise, Agatha found herself being dragged once more to the far
corner of the silent library. Both of them desperately searched for somewhere to
hide. Benedict grabbed her hand and pulled her behind the most ridiculous hiding
place-the curtain.
"What are we-"
"Hush, Blair," he uttered, closing her lips with one finger.
The sound of the door opening almost caused her heart to leap to her throat. She
stepped closer to Benedict as they listened to faint footsteps. One movement on the
curtain and they would be found out.
"Grab the largest bottle," a voice whispered.
"We will be hanged for this, I tell you, mon," answered another voice.
"This place is filled with other service people. No one will ever know. Go on, get
the most expensive one."
"There are quite a lot of brandies to choose from, mon."
Agatha held her breath as she listened to the two intruders-or thieves. Benedict's
finger had left her lips and was not skimming her jaw, sending another familiar
tingling sensation from the pit of her stomach. His finger traced the edge of her
black mask.
And then his head started to bend down and although she knew she ought to stop him,
she found she could not do so. Her eyes locked with his. His green globes were
daring her to stop him and when she instead closed hers in surrender, his mouth
descended unto hers for a tender kiss.
She felt tears at the back of her eyes. How could she ever numb her love for this
gentle beast? She doubted she ever could. No, she should at least accept the fact
that she'd have to live with it forever.
It was only until he ended the kiss did she realize the room had gone quiet. They
were once more alone, pressed together behind a curtain. Their breath mingled
together.
His hands gently lifted her black mask off her face.
The longing look he gave her was enough for a tear to roll down her cheek.
Benedict bent down to kiss it away, his lips soft and tender against her skin.
Agatha stifled a whimper. He kissed her closed damp eyes next. And then her
forehead before he leaned his against hers, breathing heavily.
He swallowed before he spoke, his lips lightly brushing against hers. "We shall
marry."
It was not even a question. He uttered the words with finality.
"Did you hear me, Blair? We shall marry and I will not take no for an answer."

XXIV. Muddly in Love

"You cannot."
Benedict had expected the answer. In fact, he knew it from the moment the idea was
conceived in his mind. It was also certain that she would not make this easier.
"We cannot," she insisted, taking a step back. The curtain moved behind her and she
almost stumbled backward if he had not been holding her shoulders. "I have to go."
She squirmed from his hold but he merely tightened his grip, searching her eyes.
"Why? Why do you have to make this even more difficult?"
Her eyes slammed shut before her lids lifted and she shot him a glaring look.
"Would you like me to tally the reasons why?" she snapped, her shoulders stiffening
under his hands. "You will not merely be ruining your entire family's name should
you break your engagement with Lady Highmore-you will subject yourself and your
sisters into a great scandal that would ruin their future," she started and he
already had the strong desire to shut her mouth. "You do not know what you want.
You may only think you want to marry me now, but you will soon regret it the very
moment society will come forward and see you differently-once they make things
difficult for you and your family. The Town Herald will make a feast of the
Everards in every article. You may reason that you will not care, but it will
slowly haunt you and eat you alive. Your sisters will no longer be invited to balls
of their choosing. Your mother will be devastated for her righteous friends will
stop calling and ignore her. And what of Margaret? She is respected by many ladies
in her station. Your brothers will find it a challenge to find a suitable lady to
marry for their families will have none of your tainted name. Who would want a
servant as their sister-in-law?"
Her chest was heaving when she finally ended her speech.
"Is that all?" he asked.
Her eyes flickered with anger. "No. I have one last reason why you and I cannot
marry, my lord." She reached up to tear his hands off her shoulders. He let her.
Lifting her chin, Agatha looked him in the eye and uttered, "I have decided to
accept Doctor Johannes' offer of marriage."
"The bloody hell you did!" he roared.
Her chin lifted even higher. "I did."
His eyes narrowed into slits. "You are lying."
Her gaze wavered. "You have asked me to marry you. What makes you believe the
doctor cannot?"
Of course he knew the bloody bastard would grab the chance if it was presented to
him. But Agatha was lying and he was sure of it. "You are leaving Wickhurst. Why
would you accept his offer?"
"He will come with me."
Benedict shook his head. "You are lying."
Agatha shrugged and turned away. Benedict reached for her arm and pulled her back
to him behind the curtain. "I will marry you. I have racked my brain thinking I
should not and now that I have made my decision I will stand by it."
"Then go to the dratted wedding alone for I will not as your bride."
He shook her with his one hand. "Why can't you say yes? Just say it. Say you will
marry me and I will get a special license this very night and we can be married by
morning."
Agatha shook her head. "My lord, please. Whatever fantasy you may have about us,
leave it as it is-a fantasy."
"I will not allow you to be with another man. If you do not marry me, I will hunt
you down until you do so."
"No, you will not, my lord. You do not have it in you. Simply accept that we cannot
be together. My own village has forced me to run away. What makes you think
Wickhurst cannot do the same? I will never forgive myself if the Everards will have
to face the same fate my family and I did."
"We are the Everards, Blair. Our very name can erase anything."
"You only wish it can, but it cannot." Her eyes welled with tears. "Please, my
lord. One of us at least has to be logical and I am afraid it is me. You are
obviously not thinking properly. Your fiancée is out there waiting for you while
you are here dallying with a servant who does not even own her own bloody gown and
can only dance for this one night because it is a ball held just for us service
people."
Benedict closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath.
Slowly, he let her go. "This is not over, Blair," he warned. "You are not leaving.
You are not marrying bloody anyone but me. And you are going to say 'I do' to me in
front of a vicar in the biggest church in Wickhurst and we will have no other
guests but my family and all bloody service people. I have stopped bloody caring
and you ought to do the same."
Her face was impassive but he could see longing, desire and denial muddled together
in the depths of her topaz brown eyes. She was in pain as much as he was in great
desperation.
She stepped away from him without another word and quietly disappeared from the
library.
Benedict walked to the center of the room, his hands deep inside the pockets of his
trousers.
His head fell back, staring blankly at the ceiling. He knew it would take some time
to convince her. Might not be tonight, but he was certain it would be some time.
Agatha Blair would never leave Wickhurst without an Everard attached to her name.
*****
The twins were dying to know what had transpired between their brother and Agatha
that night in the ball, but they could not very well ask either of the two.
Margaret seemed to have decided to forget the entire evening, disappearing from the
manor the very next day to call on Tori.
It left Ysabella and Emma alone with their mother who had announced an afternoon
picnic with Lady Frances Highmore and Benedict. Oh, how they wished their mother
knew of their plans!
Agatha seemed distracted during their morning lesson as well and when the news of
the afternoon picnic was announced, the governess tried to escape it by making a
lousy excuse that she had a book she wanted to finish reading. That, of course, had
to be set aside for the twins needed a lady companion. And when Margaret returned,
Agatha had another excuse not to go with them, saying Margaret could be their
companion.
That, of course, cost the twins another promise to their sister just for Margaret
to convince the governess that Agatha's presence was needed. Margaret added that
another accident may befall them during the picnic.
The twins knew, of course, that Agatha was suspicious of them, but the governess
dared not voice it out. Their next problem, however, could not be as easily
removed: Lady Frances.
It was a challenge they both had to face with ingenuity.
*****
"Now, the two of you ought to behave tomorrow. The next applicant will come by and
I do not want the same thing as earlier to happen again," Benedict heard his mother
say to the twins. "Do you know that they did something, one I do not even wish to
specify, when an applicant came by earlier this morning?" Lady Alice asked Frances
who was sitting beside him on the picnic cloth.
"No, I believe you have not shared it yet, my lady," Frances answered with a gentle
smile.
"It was so unexpected and horrible that I saw in my very own eyes the dejected look
on the woman's face. She did not even bother to finish the interview and left in
haste, saying she had somewhere else to go. However do you ken I could find a good
companion for them?"
"It was not a horrible thing, mother," Ysabella murmured, picking a sandwich from
the basket.
"I do not even wish to hear about it," Margaret said, stopping Emma when she opened
her mouth to add to Ysabella's statement.
Their voices began to fade in Benedict's mind as his attention focused on Agatha
who was silently sitting on a rock. She had purposely positioned herself away from
them like she had so many times in the past, as though she was a true servant that
ought not to be privy to the discussion between her employers.
She had managed to successfully evade him now that his sisters and mother was home.
She had not left the twins' side since the ball. Now, she would not even lift her
eyes to spare him a glance even though he knew she was aware of his attention.
Blast the woman!
She had with her a book she had been reading since their arrival in the woods. Gone
was the golden dress she wore the last time he saw her. She was once more clad in
her boring grey dress and her hair was tightly set into place at the back of her
head. Yet her entire form seemed to glow under the sunlight cast through the hole
above them.
The snow had started to melt, but not completely. It was still cold and he could
not understand why his mother had insisted that they go out on a picnic.
But he knew the lady was merely thinking that he had not spent enough quality time
with his future wife. He could not blame his mother for it was a fact. He had never
had any desire to waste his time making small talks with Frances. He may have done
big efforts when he planned on proposing, but it now seemed a long time ago.
A part of him was feeling utterly guilty, but he might never forgive himself if he
let this charade go on. Frances could easily find a better man than him. He, on the
other hand, may never find another Agatha Blair for no one would be better.
"Say, Lady Frances, we would like you to see something enchanting," Ysabella said,
coming to her feet.
"Something enchanting?" Frances curiously asked.
"Yes, of course! How could I have forgotten?" Emma uttered, taking Frances by the
hand to pull her to her feet. "You must see it."
"What is it?" Frances asked, hesitant.
"That is why you ought to see it. We are not excellent with explanations," Ysabella
urged, walking away from the group.
Benedict frowned at his sisters.
Their mother was looking suspicious as well and had stood up to follow the three
ladies to a nearby tree. "Oh, did we say that this is the tree Benedict fell from?"
he heard Emma ask Frances as they passed by the said tree.
"They are up to something, are they not?" he asked Margaret. His sister was
frowning as well.
"I would not be surprised if-oh my God! Lady Frances!"
The lady had fallen into a ditch somewhere behind the tree. Benedict stood and
walked to where Frances had fallen. The lower half of her gown was covered with mud
and snow and her boots were completely ruined. Their mother was making an attempt
to shout at the twins but no words were coming out. Emma and Ysabella were looking
stupefied, their mouths open.
"Oh dear Lord," Margaret uttered beside Benedict, her hand over her mouth, her tone
somehow amused. Agatha had joined them as well, glaring at the twins.
"I am fine! I am fine!" Lady Frances was saying although no one was making an
attempt to help her.
Benedict sighed and stepped forward, taking her hand to pull her to her feet.
She had indeed fallen into a ditch of mud and melting snow. As their mother fussed
over Frances' light blue gown, Benedict gave the twins a scowl.
"We swear it was not part of the plan!" Ysabella said, her face red. "Please do
forgive us, Lady Frances. We did not know you easily misplace your footing."
Frances' face was flushed. "No, it is utterly my fault. I should probably walk into
the woods more often."
"That, you should," Emma agreed, a giggle escaping her last word. "Now your dress
is ruined. We did not even reach the pond," she added with disappointment.
"Then perhaps you can call the footman so we can all go home," Benedict told them,
his voice cold. "The two of you are no longer permitted into the woods until you
are wed and your husbands take responsibility over whatever mischief you happen to
commit."
"But, Benedict!" Ysabella and Emma cried in horror.
"No, I am completely fine. We do not have to go," said Frances.
Lady Alice looked at Frances with concern. "Are you sure, dear? Your gown is-"
"Yes, I am," Frances snapped, causing the Everards to pause and turn serious. "Yes,
I am fine," she repeated in a more gentle voice. "But I might need to wipe off the
dirt-err, mud."
"We'll take you to our carriage," offered Ysabella. "You can do it there."
"Emma, you go along," ordered their mother.
The twins guided Frances back to the carriage, but they were not a few paces away
when their mother muttered, "Oh, bother, I will go along before those two make more
trouble and I will lose myself a daughter-in-law."
Margaret giggled and Benedict threw her a darting look. "It is not at all funny,
Margaret."
"Well, it is when I am certain the twins did not mean to do it. You should have
seen the shock on their faces when Frances suddenly dropped to the ground!"
Margaret chuckled. "I am laughing at the twins, Ben, not at Frances. They were
genuinely surprised by the accident!"
Benedict shook his head and turned to go back to the picnic when he noticed that
Agatha was with them. Their eyes met and for a moment he had forgotten that his
sister was just a foot away.
Margaret cleared her throat and uttered, "I think the twins were talking about the
small pond nearby. It is rather interesting. I should as well go there. Alone."
Agatha opened her mouth, probably to tell Margaret that she should not or that she
wanted to come along. Whatever she was about to say was left unsaid for Benedict
took a step toward her, blocking her view of Margaret's retreating form.
She closed her mouth and turned to walk back to the picnic.
"Do you have an answer?" he asked, following close behind.
"I already gave it to you."
"That was not what I wanted for an answer, Blair."
"That is all I can give."
"That is all I will ever ask," he countered, stumbling after her. "Agatha, marrying
me will-"
"-be very scandalous, I know. You do not have to tell me so, my lord."
"I know you love me."
She stopped and he almost crashed against her. Whirling around to face him, her
face had turned red. "However you conceived such thought, my lord, I do not know.
But you are wrong to think that I love you."
"Then I am also wrong to say that you do not have feelings for me at all? Do not
take me for a fool, Blair. You feel what I feel. It should be enough reason for you
to say yes."
"I am leaving Wickhurst. I am a wanted woman and you still want me to marry you?
Whatever has gotten into your head?"
"You are not a criminal, Blair. But you are right that you are a wanted woman." His
lips twitched. "I want you."
Her eyes flickered over his shoulder to where Margaret probably was. "Do not ever
repeat that."
"I want you. I will repeat it whenever I want, however I want. And do not merely
want you for I am inclined to also believe that I might need you as well."
"This is absurd." She started to walk away once more. "You are not yourself."
"You are losing your touch, Blair. No more witty remarks?" he asked after her with
a grin.
"You're such an oaf!" she cried over her shoulder.
"Definitely losing your touch!" he cried back.
When she did not reply and instead sat back on the rock she had vacated to continue
reading, Benedict started to see a glimmer of hope.
She'd have no other choice but fold, he promised.
*****
It did not take long for everyone to notice that Frances' mood had changed even
when she insisted that she was fine.
Benedict had apologized at every opportunity and so did the twins who, he believed,
did not genuinely mean for the accident to happen. However, Emma could not help but
say, "We are muddly sorry, Lady Frances, really we are," to which Ysabella and
Margaret laughed and even their mother could not help but smile at the wit.
When Frances could not find humor to anything the Everards had said to try to
appease the accident, it was Lady Alice who finally decided the picnic was over and
took her daughters and Agatha back to their carriage while Benedict rode his with
Frances.
"My sisters could bring trouble, but I do believe that they did not mean for you to
fall earlier," he said to Frances as the carriage neared the Highmore estate. He
honestly wanted Frances to believe the same thing for he knew his sisters well.
They may be impetuous and reckless, but they would never dare cause anyone harm.
Frances smiled but it did not reach her eyes. "I will be sure not to spend too much
time with them. I do wish to live longer."
He frowned. "They can be charming most days. It is merely because they do some
things differently and think more wildly than most ladies their age."
"But they are of marrying age and it is not quite proper that they get into so many
mishaps of their own doing."
Benedict's jaw tightened. He did not like the tone the lady was using. They were
talking about his sisters after all.
"I cannot blame your mother, Benedict, for she is one woman alone and cannot
possibly handle everything on her own. And I cannot blame your sisters either. But
I do believe that it is the duty of the people hired to watch and teach them how to
properly behave to make certain that they act like the ladies they ought to be."
She shook her head as though in disbelief. "I will never subject our future
children to such recklessness. Their governesses ought to be chosen with highest
standards."
If his blood had been simmering just moments ago, it was to the point of boiling
now. "Are you saying, Frances, that the governess is not doing her job well
enough?"
"Well, she must not have for if she had, your sisters would not be found missing in
their first ball. If she had, Ysabella and Emma would have thought of the
consequences of their actions when they climbed that tree weeks ago and if they
did, you would not have found yourself injured. If she had been kind enough to
teach them how to be careful, what happened earlier would have not come to pass."
"Miss Blair provides my sisters the kind of companionship suitable to them."
"And what kind of companionship is that? The kind that does not have boundaries?
Clearly, she does whatever your sisters wish. My chambermaid told me that they even
play like children in your gardens! Even the servants gossip about their unusual
relationship."
"She does have her own way of teaching the girls important things."
"And what is that? How to become unladylike?"
"No, being happy and confident in their own skin. She does not merely
satisfactorily provide them with lessons on science, history and others. She
provides them more of that by showing them humility and-"
"Humility is merely a fantasy of the service people as she. If we give them too
much of such, they will abuse it."
Benedict closed his eyes and willed himself to calmly say, "Then I believe we
disagree on that regard, Frances, for I do not see a reason why we ought to deprive
the service people of the same virtues we impose on them."
"I will not change your mind, but I do hope you will not impose your beliefs on our
future children."
"What you give and do not give your children will form their future, Frances. What
you show them and do not show them will form their nature. It is not the people who
serve them who will make them who they are-it is always the people who choose those
people. I believe my parents did provide for us quite well and they definitely did
choose the right people to surround us with. If you think that I will not impose
the same beliefs on my own children, you will be greatly disappointed for I am
planning to raise mine the same way we were."
"Our children will not be subjected to such uncontrollable environment, my lord. I
will not allow it."
"No such thing shall happen."
"Good," she snapped.
"Because we shall have no children."
"Do not be absurd, Benedict," Frances snapped with a haughty laugh. "You are the
Lord of Devonshire and you at least are expected to sire a male heir. Whether we
both like it or not, it is our duty to fulfill."
"It is my duty, not yours," he corrected.
Frances' brows furrowed. "Whatever do you mean by that?"
He bent low to look out the window. "We are approaching your estate and I hope this
will be the last I will have to send you home."
The huff she let out was a bit shaky. "What are you talking about, darling?"
Benedict gave her a tight smile. "I have been hesitant to break the news, my lady,
for I know I shall be causing you and your family such great distress. But I
believe that after what happened this afternoon, and everything else before that, I
must put an end to this once and for all." Her frown deepened. Benedict met her
gaze, his eyes strong and unwavering. "I no longer wish to marry you."

XXV. The Test

"Do not jest, Benedict," Frances uttered, her face turning scarlet. "Find a better
opportune time for such quips because I am not in the mood."

"I am not jesting, my lady," he said in a low voice, his anger simmering down. To
break a woman's heart was something any gentlemen would find hard to do. He was one
to know what it could force a woman to do to herself. His past was a good example
of such. Although he was certain that Frances did not love him as much as Leah
probably did, the fact still remained that his news would cause her so much
trouble. But unlike his mistakes with Leah, he would make certain now that Frances
understood his plans. "I will not blame you if you opt to tell everyone that you
broke the engagement. In fact, I would support the idea."
Her expression turned hard as stone, finally realizing he was utterly serious. Her
eyes searched his. "Why?" Benedict opened his mouth to answer but she interjected,
saying, "No, do not tell me for I know." Her voice shook, not with tears but with
anger. "You fancy yourself in love with a woman, are you not?"
He chose not to answer it, but instead uttered, "I do not wish to live my life with
the wrong person."
"And what makes you think that the people in our station have a choice on the
matter?" she snapped at him. "Generations of our people married for naught but
status and comfort. You do not know what you are thinking, Benedict. This will ruin
my family and yours!"
It was the first he heard Frances raise her voice. Benedict drew a breath and
uttered the only words he could think of. "I'm sorry, Frances. I did not mean to
hurt you."
"You are not hurting me, my lord." She looked at him, her lips twisting in
condemnation. "If there is someone who is bound to be hurt, it would be you. You
will cause a big scandal. My father shall make certain of that and I will not stop
him." She looked out the window of the carriage. "I no longer wish to hear another
word spoken about a wedding being cancelled. My gown is ready. Everything is ready,
and I shall see you standing and waiting for me by the altar."
"Frances, I am not going to marry you."
"And I will not allow you to embarrass me in front of hundreds of townspeople!" she
shrilled, her entire body shaking with rage. "I will not allow it!"
"You will regret a marriage with me as much as I would for the rest of our lives."
"No, because I will have my honor intact. I will not care how many mistresses you
keep so long as you keep them out of my sight. You can go and dally with them every
night if you wish. But you will marry me."
Benedict rubbed his hands over his face. The carriage had already stopped. "No. I
will no longer permit myself to make another mistake. Cancelling the wedding will
not ruin you as much as it would if we tie ourselves to each other. I will accept
whatever your family may inflict upon me."
"You will never mine rubies, Benedict. My family is the only one who can-"
"I'd rather not mine a single ruby than mine it forever and regret doing so."
Frances' face contorted with repulsion. "You will regret this. You will pay for
this. I will make certain of it, Benedict. If you do not marry me, I will make
certain that your family shall walk the streets of Wickhurst in shame!"
His lips twitched. "I have thought of the consequences of my decision, Frances.
There is no need for threats. I shall speak to your father on the morrow, after
both of us had the whole night to come to peace with this."
"No!"
"Frances, do not make this harder for the two of us. I am very sorry that I have to
propose to you, to give you false hopes for doing so, and I shall forever pay for
it. It will forever be in my conscience. But I cannot marry you. It will be an even
bigger mistake. You will always find another who will appreciate you for who you
are. And whatever you may be looking for in a husband, I am certain it is not with
me."
"I have agreed to marry you. That ought to be enough to tell you that you are who I
am looking for."
"Then you admit that my scars do not repulse you? That you are not bothered by
them?"
Her gaze wavered before flickering back to him. "It is not your face that is the
matter, my lord."
"Then it must be my money."
Frances gasped. "Of course not!"
"Oh, then it must be my good traits. Tell me, Frances, how well do you really know
me to warrant this strong desire to know me? I do know you, but I am afraid I do
not wish to know more. And I am quite certain you do feel the same. We never had
the urge to discover more of each other in the time we have been engaged and even
until now I still wonder how we ever got engaged."
"You asked for my hand!"
"And I did so out of selfishness. I wanted the ruby mines and your father had
promised them to me if I marry you. He as much as said it over the many card games
we had. You see, Frances, I proposed because I was a selfish bastard who had his
eyes on the rubies. It was never about you." He saw the pain in her eyes and he
cursed himself for being brutally honest. "I am sorry that I have to tell you this.
We are, after all, taught how to be proper and pretentious. But you have said so
yourself that we Everards are too wild and unnatural that I cannot, for the life of
me, pretend the rest of my life."
"I meant your sisters and-"
"My sisters and I share the same blood. Whatever made you think I am not the same?
The man you think you know-the proper, well-mannered and intelligent Benedict
Everard-is not who you are speaking to now. I may not act like them, but I do think
like them." He smiled at her in the gentlest way he knew how. "We do not match,
Frances, in so many ways than one. Please, do anything you wish to do to me after
this day, but direct it only to me. My family is as much a victim here than you
are."
Frances had gone stiff and she lifted her chin when she finally found her voice.
"Yes, you are correct. I do not know you. And you do not know me. Has anyone ever
told you never to scorn a woman?"
Benedict's heart nearly stopped at the hidden threat in her voice.
"You have seen the best of me, Benedict," Frances icily added, "but you have not
seen the worst yet."
 Nodding, his jaw tightened. "I understand your anger and I will face the
consequences."
As he said those words, he began to believe what Agatha had warned him about-what
he had warned himself of.
He would be tested in a brutal way.
*****
The following days after the picnic had been quiet. Considering the twins were in
residence, it was something that would call for a celebration as Margaret had said.
Even their mother had wondered why the two seemed rather morose.
Mayhap they felt truly guilty over what happened to Lady Frances Highmore, Agatha
thought, as they continued their lessons. The twins had not even once dared
contradict or complained in any of their lessons. For Agatha, it was not reason for
celebration but rather alarm.
"Are you both certain you are fine?" she asked them after their lessons.
"Of course," Emma replied without a glance at her direction as she walked with
Ysabella out of the room.
"We will be fine by the morrow, Agatha, do not fret," added Ysabella with a faint
smile. "You will accompany us to the ball, yes?"
"Of course. I shall not miss it. You will look marvelous in your gowns."
Agatha frowned. Perhaps the twins had learned that their mother had finally chosen
a companion for them. Or it might be the fact that their days inside the schoolroom
were almost over. Or mayhap they had overheard Agatha leaving soon.
She sighed, looking around the room that had been witness to many of her
frustrations over the twins' mischiefs, gossips, enthusiasms, tales and laughter.
Agatha walked to the chair that had been hers for nearly two years now and sat
down.
She let her mind remember everything she had shared with Ysabella and Emma inside
the room and she allowed herself a silent cry.
*****
The twins were indeed feeling down.
And frustrated.
Benedict had not been available since the picnic. Both of them sent a rather long
missive of apology to Lady Frances but it seemed the lady had not found a need to
reply. And their dratted brother could not be found anywhere to inquire after his
fiancée's emotional condition.
"And the wedding is still to happen," Ysabella groaned in protest inside their
bedchamber.
"Mayhap we have been right in the beginning. Doctor Johannes might have been the
good choice," Emma said.
"Oh, do not even go there, Em. We have both decided that Agatha and Benedict are
perfect for each other."
"But it is rather hard for us to even get them together nowadays. She is leaving
and he is nowhere to be found. He had been out of the manor more often than he was
these past months. Whatever could he be up to outside?"
"I heard mother say he visited the Highmores twice."
"We should have stuck with the doctor, really," Emma told Ysabella. "Now, I do not
even wish to go to the ball."
"Benedict is going, you know."
"Because mother forced him. And I am certain Lady Frances will be in attendance as
well."
"At the very least we can relay our apology once again."
"Well, that we must do."
They stared at each other and giggled as they remembered Frances covered in mud.
"Oh, it was a happy accident, really," Ysabella uttered between giggles.
Emma sighed. "If only we had thought of it, but we did not. Do you think she
believes we did it with intent?"
"Well, I do not care. It is still quite funny."
"Hilarious."
"Oh, the look on her face!"
Both girls fell on the bed, laughing.
Who would have thought that their future sister-in-law could lift their spirits?
*****
Benedict decided to attend the ball for only one reason: be with Agatha.
Now that he had managed to break the news to Lord Highmore, Benedict could somehow
breathe. The man, of course, did not take the news lightly. In fact, he nearly
demanded for a duel if not for the fact that he could barely lift his own arm to
point a pistol. Frances had not been included in their talk, nor was she invited.
Lady Highmore was present but did not say anything apart from a good amount of
blasphemous cries and a few tears of anger.
Honestly, Benedict had not expected to step out of the Highmore estate alive in the
two occasions he had been there. The first was to deliver the news that the wedding
would not come to pass. The second was to negotiate the terms Lord Highmore wished
to address after having thought of Benedict's proposal to amend. It had been
costly, he must admit, and his family might hang him for it if they were to know,
but the threat Frances had warned him about might no longer be possible.
He had made certain that Lord Highmore will never utter a word about the Everards
the very moment the news of the engagement's nullity was to come. After all, he had
given Frances' father one of his estates and its surrounding plantation in the
north. To pay for the scandals that would surely follow his daughter, Benedict had
given the Highmores the blessing to tell Wickhurst that they broke off the
engagement. Such matter would dampen any embarrassment Frances might feel. And as
to his former fiancée, Benedict had not seen her since their talk in the carriage.
She would not show herself when he came to call on her father, nor would she face
him when he had asked for her audience to further apologize.
He had done the best he could. After all, he had caused this entirely on his own.
Had he not been too impulsive and greedy, Frances and her family would have never
associated themselves with the Everards.
And however his family might see his scandalous decision, that, he ought to face as
well. To be worried over what his sisters might feel had not come to mind, but how
his brothers would take the effects on the sisters was one he had to tread very
carefully. Their mother, God bless her soul, ought to have a stronger heart.
He rode to the ball alone as he was certain Agatha would be uncomfortable with him
in the carriage, and he was not yet ready for his mother to witness how he could
not tear his eyes off the governess. For God's sake, he was yet to break the news
that his bride had changed!
The ball was already packed when he arrived. His eyes immediately scanned the
ballroom for his family and Agatha. He spotted Margaret and their mother first
before he saw Agatha standing in one corner with the twins and...bloody hell! Not
the doctor again!
Benedict stormed toward them, his shoulders stiff and jaw tight.
"Benedict!" Ysabella said with feigned surprise. "Of course, you are here. Is it
not nice? The doctor and Agatha in one ball!"
Agatha was wearing a blue gown he had not seen before but one he was certain he had
paid for-courtesy of his sisters, of course-and her eyes would not meet his. The
doctor, on the other hand, was looking innocent and happy beside her. Had the fool
really asked for Agatha's hand?
No, she was lying, his mind spoke in denial.
The twins were looking at him in an interesting, curious way as if they were
waiting for Benedict to pounce on the young man and sweep Agatha off her feet.
"Doctor, Miss Blair," he greeted, bowing stiffly, "I wish to speak to my sisters in
private."
"Of course, my lord," Doctor Johannes said, turning to Agatha. "Would you like
another dance, Miss Blair?"
Another? Another dance? How many dances had they had thus far?
"I did not know you came as a guest and not a companion, Blair," he said to Agatha.
Her eyes shot him daggers and he cleared his throat and said, "Well, then, if you
did, it must be so that you be with Mother and Margaret while I talk with the
twins."
The twins were now gawking at him and Agatha, their expressions are the same as the
one they had worn the first time they saw a play about a damsel and her blood-
thirsty prince.
When Agatha merely kept her silence, her eyes blazing with frustration, Doctor
Johannes carefully spoke, "Then I must return you to Lady Alice and Lady Margaret."
"No," Benedict strongly uttered, taking Agatha by the elbow. He ignored the twins
when they raised their brows high, their eyes alight with what seemed to be hope
and amusement.
"My lord," Agatha murmured in protest but Benedict would have none of it as he was
already leading her to his mother and Margaret.
"You better be used being with my mother and sister, Blair, for they will become
your family."
"My lord, I am not in the mood to-"
"Mother, would you care to watch over Miss Blair while I go and have a short chat
with the twins?" Benedict uttered as they reached Lady Alice and Margaret,
completely ignoring Agatha's protests.
"Watch over Miss Blair?" his mother asked, dumbfounded. A lady watching over her
own employee? That was unheard of!
"Yes," he replied, throwing Margaret a glance. His sister was biting her lips to
fight off a smile.
Before his mother could respond to his unusual request, he turned around to walk
back to the twins who were still standing beside Doctor Johannes. "May you enjoy
the rest of your evening, Doctor," he snapped at the man before he ushered the
twins away, saying, "I will have a word with you now."
He glanced over his shoulder to check on Agatha. She was stiffly standing beside
his mother and Margaret, her eyes wary and frustrated all the same as she watched
him walk away with the twins.
He found a good quiet corner devoid of partygoers. He waited until Ysabella and
Emma found a spot to face him. Benedict stared them in the eye, his hands on his
waist. And over the sound of the jolly music, he told them, "If you really wish to
make a match out of Blair and I, you will stop involving the bloody doctor."
Their eyes widened with surprise, their mouths hanging open.
Narrowing his eyes, Benedict continued, "Do not, for one second, think I do not
know what you are really planning. You dragging the doctor at every chance you get
to aide your plans merely complicate matters. I do not appreciate you making me
jealous at every turn when you have confirmed of that fact from the beginning."
Their eyes glowed with wonder.
"Now, as I try to work things out with Blair and our family, I impose on both of
you to do naught but watch over Blair. No bloody doctors to torment me, no bloody
schemes. Do you understand?"
Ysabella and Emma gasped in unison.
"Benedict, do you mean to say-"
"Uh, now that you have given us orders to watch over Agatha," Emma interjected, her
voice filled with alarm, "you might start making plans on how to make your fiancée
go away first."
"I already did that, Emma," he uttered with annoyance.
Ysabella gasped with awe. "You did? How marvelous!" She jumped on her feet with
excitement, her green eyes shimmering with happy tears.
But Emma seemed to still be preoccupied with something as she looked over his
shoulder. "But why is Lady Frances talking with Agatha as we speak?"
Benedict whirled on his heels and alarm came fast when he saw what Emma was talking
about. Agatha had turned pale as Frances spoke to her, his mother and sister both
looking scandalized.
Without another thought, Benedict quickly made his way across the ballroom, pushing
dancers aside at his haste.
He went straight to Frances who was saying to anyone who was listening-and there
were quite a few who had gathered around them at that point and the number was
growing by the second-"She did. She stole it."
"No, I did not," Agatha uttered, her voice shaking.
"Then would you care to tell us who gave you that ruby necklace?" Frances demanded.
Benedict made a move to reach for Agatha but his mother stopped him by grabbing his
arm. "Do not do anything, Benedict," she warned. "This is not your place."
"What are you doing, Frances?" he asked the lady, ignoring his mother's words.
Frances gracefully turned around in her white dress, her face scornful, to face
him. "Ah, there you are, Benedict. I was merely telling everyone that your sisters'
governess stole something of my possession. Do you remember when we went on a
picnic in the woods? I was wearing my ruby necklace and suddenly I cannot find it.
And I know she has it. I have seen her wear it but thought none of it until I
realized mine was missing."
"Your events are not accurately corresponding, my lady," Agatha insisted. "I did
not steal anything. You saw my necklace before the holidays and the picnic was-"
"Just bloody tell her who gave it, child," a man's voice uttered from somewhere.
"Oh, do shut your mouth!" Emma uttered behind Benedict.
"Agatha would dare not do such thing," he heard Ysabella mutter behind him.
"Then you do admit you have my necklace!" Frances shrilled at Agatha's words,
ignoring everyone else. "Do you think us a fool to believe that a servant can
afford such piece of jewelry? And to steal a ruby! A ruby! MY ruby!" Frances turned
to Lady Alice. "You have a thief in your household, my lady. You might want to
rummage through her things to find Everard pieces among them as well."
The crowd had started to murmur around them. Benedict found himself frozen in his
spot. Agatha's face was as white as paper, but she did not meet his eyes. He
instantly knew what she was thinking and what she planned to do.
She'd never admit where she had gotten that necklace. No, she was too bloody
righteous to admit that her own master had given her a Highmore ruby. And she had
gone mute. She would let Frances shame her in front of everyone. Benedict could
almost literally read her mind. She was leaving Wickhurst. Why would she care if
the people here scorned her?
But she could be sent to prison for something she had not done. It could bloody be
as well she returned to her own village.
"What say you, Benedict?" Frances' gaze was now focused on him. "She claims not to
have stolen the ruby necklace and she could not very well afford to procure one
with her measly income, leading us to believe that if she is telling the truth,
someone could have given it to her. Who do you ken would give her such extravagant
gift?" Frances challenged, her brow arched high. His jaw tightened. He knew Frances
knew who gave Agatha the necklace. She was forcing him to choose between her and
Agatha in front of everyone. Choosing Agatha meant announcing the end of his
engagement with Frances in the most scandalous way. Choosing Frances would send
Agatha to damnation but it would spare him and his family. Whichever he chose,
Frances would win.
Blood rushed to his ears and he gritted his teeth. He took a step forward but his
mother's hand tightened around his arm. His eyes did not leave Agatha's face. She
was making such great effort to keep an impassive face, her eyes casted downward.
At that moment she appeared exactly like a servant-vulnerable and meek. The woman
who had fought with him at every turn had stepped back into a quiet corner in the
face of society's scornful lot.
It was enough for Benedict to tear his mother's hand off him and step forward. He
stood beside Agatha and took her cold hand in his. She tried to pull it back but he
merely tightened his grip as he fixed Frances a cold look. There was not a chance
he'd let her go and feed her to these wolves. "Miss Blair did not steal anything
from you, Frances." The blood rushing through his ears stifled the noise around
them. "I gave her the necklace."
The crowd erupted in a collective outburst of scandalized shock.
"While you are all wrapping your brain around the fact, I shall escort Miss Blair
out of here," he uttered, giving his mother an apologetic look before he pushed his
way through the crowd, dragging Agatha along behind him.
"Could we now resume the dancing?" he heard Ysabella ask the crowd.
"My lord-" Agatha started but he pulled her closer to him, eliciting a gasp from
her lips.
"Do not make me haul you over my shoulder, Blair," he warned. "I would not hesitate
to do so."
"But where are-"
"I'm taking you home to Devonshire," he answered her unfinished question.

XXVI. Devonshire
The Everards considered the Devonshire their escape although the twins had always
insisted it was boring and utterly dire.

For Agatha, however, it was a place of refuge after a long, tiring carriage ride.
And to have traveled in naught but her heavy ball gown and with merely two stops
for food, she was ready to retire and sleep for a week at the very least.
She was also in a sour mood for Benedict had been very much insistent. Two days
were enough to convince her that the Lord of Devonshire had gone insane.
How could he have been such a fool to display such scandal in front of a crowd in
Wickhurst? All to prove that he did not care of the consequences? And how could he
leave his own family to face everything that would befall his actions? Surely-
surely-he should have thought what Lady Alice would face. Alone!
Agatha could only imagine what The Town Herald had printed after they left the
ball. It would not be a surprise if they were the sole subjects from cover to
cover.
"I will never return to Wickhurst," she told him as the carriage drew to a stop in
front of the large estate of Devonshire. The lamps that surrounded the place
provided more than enough light for her to see that the humongous place was too far
out of her reach. The distant holes shone over the vast crop plantation behind the
manor, a distant reminder of how rich the Everards were. If she were to see their
mines, she might probably melt in contrast.
"You can always stay here and you will never hear me complain," Benedict said,
tugging his gloves off his hands. He had loosened his cravat and unbuttoned half of
his white dress shirt. His coat was folded neatly beside him. His hair was
disheveled. She was certain she looked as weary as him if she was to face a mirror.
"I do hope you are satisfied now that you have caused such a big scandal, my lord.
And I shall not be staying here, of all places. I wish to go and disappear to the
farthest corners of the Town. I should have done so days ago if I knew this would
happen-if I knew you'd go as far as this."
Benedict shook his head as the footman opened the carriage door. "You will do no
such thing, Blair. I did what I did to get you."
"Precisely, my lord. You did it for me. Me whom everyone sees as naught but a
servant, a thief and a witch."
He had climbed down the carriage and was holding out his hand to help her but she
brushed it away, irked that he was even smiling when she was completely serious.
"You might want to rephrase those, Blair, for in no time everyone would see you as
a naught but the Lady of Devonshire, a wife, and hopefully in time, a mother."
Agatha wanted to shout her frustrations but instead she could only stare at him
with desperation. "Why could you not have just at least pretended you believed Lady
Frances? I could have faced the scrutiny and-"
His face had gone taut at the reminder of the incident. "It would have landed you
in jail, Blair. Do you really think that everyone would simply ignore a thief and
pretend as if it was naught but another measly scandal? You are wise and you know
there would have been no place for you to go but the jail."
She understood him. Really, she did. "But you could have done it differently. You
did not have to tell the truth in front of the-"
"It was better than any other way," he replied, taking her hand to pull her toward
the front doors of the manor. "We have gone through this argument for the last two
days. It is getting rather old."
"And what do you suggest we do now? Stay here until the scandal wanes? It will
never disappear, my lord. And what of your family? What could they be facing now in
our absence? It is almost criminal to leave them alone in Wickhurst!"
"No one is leaving anyone in Wickhurst, Blair," Benedict said as the door was
opened by a surprised butler who jumped away when Benedict and Agatha rushed by
him. "We still must go back to Wickhurst to wed."
"I am not-"
"I brought you here so you can have a few days to spare to come to terms to the
fact that we are getting married. I already did, but you will need more time."
"You are insane!"
"Benedict!" a voice cried out from above the grand staircase. Both Benedict and
Agatha looked up to see his brothers, Nicholas, Maxwell and Ralph looking down at
them wearing uniform frowns on their faces. "What is the meaning of this?" Nicholas
asked.
"And why are you with Miss Blair?" Ralph added.
Maxwell was silent, but his frown turned to that of amusement.
Agatha tried to stop him but Benedict was strong enough to pull her toward the
staircase and up to meet his brothers.
"Something has happened in Wickhurst," was Benedict's nonchalant reply. Did he not
care that their appearance was rather odd? He was in a disheveled evening attire
while she was still in a dratted ball gown!
The three brothers were more focused on the woman struggling behind him. "Did you
cause a scandal?" Maxwell asked, his tone knowing.
"Quite," Benedict curtly replied.
When they finally reached the top of the staircase, all three Everard brothers
stepped aside to let them pass, but Benedict had one more thing to say. "Have the
servants prepare a bath for Miss Blair, Ralph," he ordered his brother. Agatha
could not meet the men's eyes so she focused on their feet.
"I am not your butler, Ben."
"Do it," Maxwell uttered, pushing the youngest brother.
"But-"
"And have the carriage drawn out," Nicholas added, smacking Ralph's shoulder, his
eyes on Agatha's bowed head. "It is time we go to Wickhurst."
"What the bloody hell for?"
Nicholas gave a helpless shake of his head but his face was filled with amusement.
"It seems our eldest brother had caused quite a big scandal. We cannot leave the
ladies alone."
Benedict nodded at his brothers before he turned to drag Agatha down the corridor
to the right. There was no need for further explanations when one is facing a male
Everard. "And tell mother not to fret!" Benedict added over his shoulder. "I will
be back in Wickhurst with Miss Blair the very moment she comes to her senses."
Agatha looked over her shoulder to steal a glance at the three Everards behind
them, almost pleading them to stop their brother and prove that he was the one who
needed his senses put to rights. But for the love of all that was holy, the three
brothers were far from appearing scandalized. If one would merely look at their
expressions, it was clear that they were more awed by the fact that Benedict was
capable of causing a scandal than the fact that he had brought the governess to
Devonshire.
"The bath, Ralph!" Benedict roared over his shoulder.
Ralph muttered something but Maxwell smacked his head. "Do it."
*****
Benedict waited until he was certain Agatha was ready for another talk. He had
ordered the servants to take one of the twins' nightgowns for her use.
In comparison to Agatha, Benedict refused to entertain any thoughts of what he did
in the ball. He did it and he would face the consequences. And so would the
Highmores. Lord Highmore would have to put a leash on his daughter if he wished to
keep the estate Benedict had given him in exchange for a less scandalous
announcement of the broken engagement. Frances had indeed breached more than one of
the agreements her father had made with Benedict.
Not that he could blame her for it, he thought. But the fact still remained that
she had intended to scorn Agatha in front of society. Whatever wrong he had done
Frances, Agatha should not pay for it. Setting the problems he left at Wickhurst
aside, Benedict stepped out of his own bedchamber to find Agatha.
His brothers left in haste with his instructions to guard their sisters and mother
from the gossipmongers and to assure the ladies that he was coming back to make
right of things. For the meanwhile, they all ought to stay calm while he fixed the
most pressing issue: Agatha Blair.
He stepped inside her now quiet bedchamber. For a split second he felt alarm that
the door was unlocked, thinking she had decided to run away, but he let out a sigh
of relief when he found her sitting on the bed, stiff as a board. She dared not
even turn to cast him a glance.
Benedict could not decide which he found easier to deal with: a calm Agatha or an
angry one.
"Can you spare me a few minutes without contradicting everything I say?" he almost
begged, standing before her.
When she merely stayed quiet, her eyes fixed on the carpet, Benedict sighed and
reached for her clasped hands. He took it a good sign when she let him take her
right hand in both of his, warming them with his own warmth.
His eyes followed his thumb as it rubbed the back of her hand. He could feel the
roughened parts of her fingers, evidence of the hard life she had to endure in the
past.
"Come, I wish to show you something," he said, pulling her to her feet.
"But I am not dressed to walk out of this chamber," she protested.
"No one will care, really," he said, leading her out the door.
Once outside, he led her to the very room where he made the most important
decisions of his life: the study. "What are we doing here?" she asked as they
walked into the dimly lit room.
Not offering an answer, Benedict led her to the wall of portraits. His head turned
to look down at her confused face. Unspoken questions were clearly painted on her
face as she stared at the portraits before them. "I did what I did not because of
the selfish desire to have you for myself," he said, his voice close to a whisper
beside her. "I did it for I want everyone to witness that you are a wanted woman
and the man who wants you is no longer bothered by propriety and societal rules."
Her head moved a fraction and he thought she would start talking and try to put
sense into him. But she did no such thing as she fixed her eyes on the portraits of
the many lords of Devonshire on the wall.
"Blair, I want to marry you. You do not know how much for you have not been here
when I drowned myself in repudiation and countless rebuttals with myself that for a
while I thought myself insane. You do not know how much I despised myself for
wanting and denying you at the same time." His hand tightened around hers. "I spent
many of those painful hours inside this room. When the twins sent me a letter to
deliberately provoke me to take action, I decided to concede. I was staring at
these portraits of all Lords of Devonshire, including that of my father, and I
realized one thing."
Her eyes scanned the portraits until they rested on Harold Everard's. When he did
not continue, Agatha turned to look at him and whispered, "What did you realize?"
He tore his eyes from his father's portrait and gazed into her topaz brown ones.
"Whatever I do or do not do in this lifetime, I will still end up among them-a
lifeless portrait on a wall." Drawing a deep breath, he gazed back at the
paintings. "I realized I'd rather have a life I want now because I know for a fact
that the future lords who will be staring at my portrait will never care, apart for
one. One will look at my portrait and remember how I lived my life as I do when I
look at my father's face on that wall." His lips twitched as he turned to fully
face her and force her to meet his eyes. "I will be just another portrait, but I
want to make certain that the next lord to look at it will be our son."
Tears pooled her eyes. Benedict let go of her hand to cup her face.
"Blair, I adore you in so many ways, but I do love you in more," he huskily
admitted, almost choking at the sudden overwhelming emotion surging up his throat.
He desired for her to believe him, to see the truth in his words as she saw the man
behind his scars.
Her lips trembled as tears flowed down her cheeks and she started to sob. Benedict
bent down to plant a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. He came back for more when
she did not push him away. When her lips opened to take more of him, a single sob
escaping, Benedict pulled Agatha against him.
"Cease crying, Blair," he gently whispered against her mouth, "One would think I am
harassing you if you do not."
Agatha pulled away to wipe her tears with the pads of her hands. While she had been
mum earlier, she was now sobbing and laughing altogether.
Benedict assumed a dubious look. "You seem to be the only human who finds my quips
laughable."
"In rare occasions, they are," she admitted between chuckles.
"I rather like it when I make you laugh," he admitted.
A long silence followed as Benedict bent to kiss her in front of his ancestors.
*****
The next day, Benedict took Agatha to the plantation. Not even once did they talk
about what happened in Wickhurst. And for the entire day he did not bring the
subject of marriage. For hours they talked like they did during the holidays,
debating on theories and laughing at absurd ideas.
By night time, Benedict had to bring them both back to reality. He came to her
bedchamber, this time not to take her to the study but to convince her to let go of
all reservations and marry him.
"My lord, we have to be logical. I am not merely thinking about my station, but I
am also considering my past-my reputation as a witch. And do not, for one second,
try to convince me that the people in Wickhurst do not care for such. You very well
know they still do believe in witches."
"Who you are is not what is of import here. It is what you want that I want an
answer to. Do you wish to marry me or not?"
She let out a frustrated sigh. "In our case, my lord, it is who I am that stops me
from giving you a reply."
"I have told you I love you, Blair. What is your answer to that?"
She blinked and to his surprise she managed to swiftly crawl under the covers and
lie in the bed. Benedict gawked as he stood, hands on his waist. "What the bloody
hell are you doing?"
"Sleeping," she murmured.
He looked dumbfounded. "Without giving me an answer." When Agatha merely pulled the
cover over her shoulders, turned away and squirmed underneath for a comfortable
position, he scowled. "Do not think I do not keep count, Blair. There are now quite
a lot of questions you have not given an answer to thus far."
He paced beside the bed. "What would you say if I were to start making love to
you?" he asked aloud.
She pulled the cover higher without a word.
Benedict bared his teeth. As much as he would love to act on that threat, he was
certain he would not accomplish it in its entirety because if he were to make love
to Agatha, it would be with his ring around her finger.
"How many children do you want us to produce?" he asked, testing her patience.
Silence.
"Will you just cowardly go away as you have always done?" he challenged. Still, no
answer.
She remained silent even after Benedict joined her under the covers and hugged her
from behind.
"If you are given a power to do one thing without deterrence from anyone or
anything, what would it be?" he whispered against her hair.
After a very long moment of silence, when he thought she'd keep her mouth shut,
Agatha answered, "I shall put up a school for all service people of all kind. They
will know how to read and write for it is the door to learning and learning opens
the eyes to see the world differently. Mayhap through that, future generations
would cease to face the same fate as ours."
He had to admit that he was expecting her to give him an answer related to their
present predicament, one that wished for her status to be lifted in society so she
could accept him without reservations. But no, she told him that she wanted to put
up a school for all service people! His arm tightened around her. She would always
be Agatha Blair. Her mind would never be filled with mere romantic ideas. It had
more rooms for greater things and he wished for nothing less. He'd never change a
thing-not her mind or her past.
But if he were to wish for one thing at that moment, it was to sway her heart to
concede.
*****
Go home. Now.
Maxwell's missive may not be long, but it was convincing enough.
Benedict folded the paper and tucked it back inside his coat pocket before he
stared out the window of the carriage. Beside him, Agatha was noticeably on edge
with worry, her fingers twirling and twisting over her lap.
Without taking his eyes out the window, he grabbed her hands to keep them still. He
heard her sigh.
She had not given him a clear answer thus far, but he was confident she would not
run away now. Two days in Devonshire was apparently not enough to make an honest
woman out of Agatha Blair, but it had been two quiet days before an actual storm.
She would never leave Wickhurst and his family now that they obviously had more
things to face. He hated that he had to drag her and his entire family into
something he had created. He'd rather face this on his own, he thought with
derision.
"However could I face them, my lord? They must probably hate me by now," she asked
him, finally voicing her worry.
"If an Everard happens to hate someone, Blair, they don't ask for that someone to
go back home," he said, turning to face her. "They simply go after you and tell it
to your face."
Her face crumpled and paled at his words.
"For the love of God, stop fretting," he ordered. "If they were to hate on anyone,
that will be me."
"Your mother must be devastated. I hate to think that she has to face such scandal
at this point in her life, my lord."
"Benedict."
"I shall address you the way I see fit," she retorted.
"It is Benedict for you, Blair."
She pulled her hands away from his grip and moved to the seat across from him. "I
wish to be alone."
"We are on a moving carriage. That is entirely impossible."
"Then I wish for some quiet."
"So you can think of the most devastating things?"
"So I can think of a way to make peace with your family."
"I am telling you, Blair, if they are furious, the fury will be directed at me."
Agatha ignored him, staring out the window.
*****
Agatha was nearly shaking with dread they finally reached Wickhurst. She was numb
with terror when they reached the Everard manor.
Benedict grabbed her hand the moment her feet stepped on the cobblestones and once
more she found herself being pulled into the entrance doors. Jefferson's face was
completely unreadable as he bowed when they passed. In one corner he saw Silas
gaping at them.
"Please, my lord, can we hide somewhere for a minute?" she begged as her heart
started hammering inside her chest. They barely made it across the entrance hall
and her legs were already giving out on her.
Benedict skidded to a stop and whirled to face her, looking bewildered. "Hide?"
Agatha blinked. "I can barely breathe. My heart is racing too fact and I am afraid
that-"
"You'll live, Blair," he interjected, turning toward the parlor. "Jefferson, tell
everyone I wish to speak to them in the parlor," he ordered the butler.
"Right away, my lord," Jefferson said, jumping from the door to scurry toward the
staircase.
Pushing the parlor door open, Agatha's throat nearly closed when she saw Nicholas
and Maxwell sitting inside, playing a card game. Both brothers moved with a start
at their sudden intrusion.
"Benedict," Nicholas uttered, standing up. He saw Agatha and he gave her a small
bow. "Miss Blair."
"Finally, you received my missive," Maxwell uttered, giving Agatha a knowing look
while he addressed his brother. "We have been trying to solve the matter ourselves,
but the ladies are adamant that you and Miss Blair return at once."
Agatha froze.
"You might want to sit down, Miss Blair," Nicholas offered, gesturing to a chair.
"You look like you are about to faint."
Benedict guided her to the chair, whispering, "Do not fret," before he faced his
brother with a serious frown. "What happened?"
"Well, you do know about the scandal for you caused it," Maxwell replied, sounding
amused. "Marvelous job, really. And I insist that you do not read The Herald at
all," he added. "We have not left the manor since we arrived and the sisters and
Mother are quite, shall we say...restless."
"Restless."
"Furious at some point as well," Nicholas added.
Agatha stifled a groan.
"And where is-"
Benedict's question was left unfinished when suddenly the doorway to the parlor was
filled by Ysabella, Emma, Margaret and Ralph. All appeared to have ran all the way,
chests heaving, eyes wide.
Agatha jumped to her feet, ready to speak, when Benedict stopped her by blocking
her view of the rest of his family, saying, "Now that you are all here except Levi,
I wish to inform everyone that I intend to marry Miss Blair."
Without thinking, Agatha pushed Benedict aside and declared, "I will not marry
him!" before anyone could utter a word to protest Benedict's declaration. A part of
her did not want to hear the Everards express their objection for it would mean
they disapproved of her. They meant so much to her and it would hurt her still if
she knew they could never accept her as Benedict's wife.
Benedict scowled at her before he faced his family. "She is going to marry me-"
"Why?" Ysabella, Emma, Margaret and Lady Alice uttered in unison, their expressions
scandalized. Agatha felt her world colliding and she wished for the ground to open
under her feet and swallow her whole.
Benedict's face was flushed with anger. "Because it is what I-"
"Oh, for God's sake, we were not asking you, Benedict," Lady Alice's voice
interrupted, her eyes flickering with annoyance before they searched for Agatha's.
"We were asking Miss Blair." Benedict suddenly seemed lost. Somewhere she heard
Nicholas and Maxwell chuckle and at the corner of her eye she saw Ralph doing the
same before Ysabella elbowed his chest.
Agatha frowned, her breath caught in her throat. She could not tear her eyes away
from Lady Alice's blue ones even though she knew that Emma, Ysabella and Margaret
were looking at her as though she had grown a beard. "Why the devil would you not
marry my son, Agatha?" Lady Alice demanded.

XXVII. Parlor Talk

"I-I..." Agatha stammered, face flushing. "My lady, I don't-"

"Everybody, remove yourselves out of the parlor," Lady ordered, her eyes jumping
from one child to another. The men complied except for Benedict who firmly stood
beside Agatha. "Do not make me repeat my words, Benedict," the lady said.
"Mother, I am the one who intends to marry her. Why would I remove myself-"
"For once, listen to me!" Lady Alice cried out, forcing Maxwell, Nicholas and Ralph
to hasten their steps out of the parlor. Agatha saw Ralph pull Ysabella's hand but
his sister tugged free and stayed behind their mother, her face full of excitement.
Benedict looked from Agatha to his mother helplessly. "What will you tell Miss
Blair?"
Lady Alice's eyes narrowed. "Remove yourself from the parlor, Benedict."
"Do it," Emma whispered over their mother's shoulder.
Benedict clenched his jaw. "But not for long."
Lady Alice stepped aside, Margaret, Ysabella and Emma following her movements.
Agatha's first thought was to go after him, to beg him not to leave her alone. What
would she do? How could she face Lady Alice without stammering through every word?
When Benedict finally walked through the doorway, Ysabella hastily closed the door.
"Ladies, my order includes the three of you," Lady Alice addressed her daughters.
"Mother, you might need our help," Emma insisted, walking closer to Agatha. "We
know her best, Ysa and I."
"And I know her in a higher level-that of a woman," Margaret added in haste.
"She is not easily convinced, Mother," Ysabella said, walking to stand beside Emma.
Lady Alice scoffed. "Very well," she uttered, walking to a chair. "Agatha, sit."
Agatha could not move. Really, she found it hard to even take a single step. It was
Emma who shoved her to the nearest chair and did not leave her side, standing very
close beside her. Margaret sat down beside Lady Alice, her green eyes fixed on
Agatha. Ysabella was pacing by the window, her steps almost close to skipping.
"Now, Agatha," Lady Alice began with her calm, soothing voice. "Answer my question.
Why would you not marry Benedict?"
So she heard it right, Agatha thought. She swallowed, looking desperately at the
lady who had been very close to a mother to her for the past year. "You know why,
my lady. We are of different station."
Lady Alice stared at her for a very long time that she thought the lady was slowly
seeping the breath out of her lungs. "I cannot deny that I am disappointed Benedict
had chosen to end his engagement with Lady Highmore. She is by far the best
suitable woman for him in his station," Lady Alice uttered.
Agatha nodded. "Yes."
"But I would be greatly disappointed if he married her for naught but greed over
the ruby mines," Lady Alice continued. "And even more so if he did it while his
heart belonged to someone else."
Tears started to sting Agatha's eyes. She could not name the emotions playing
inside her for they were the first she had felt in many years.
"Benedict had changed since he had acquired his scars," Lady Alice explained, "and
he never showed or told us anything he really wanted. This is the first that he
wants something with great desperation. In fact, it is the first he entirely
stripped himself of his righteous and proper self all for one woman. I do not
intend to deprive him of it."
"Your name will be ruined," Agatha tried one more time. "It will be a scandal."
"We are Everards, child," Lady Alice said with a smile. "We hear scandals every
time, some of which are caused by us ourselves. You ought to hear the stories of my
husband's ancestors."
"The twins will find it-"
"Oh, we will be fine," Ysabella cried, pausing her pacing. "I can always find a
husband from outside Wickhurst. Surely the scandal will not reach that far."
"I can finally get rid of my unwanted suitors," Margaret added with a wink.
"I never intend to marry, so thank you, Agatha," Emma said beside her.
"Now, when will the wedding be?" Ysabella asked, walking close to her mother.
"Mother, you know it has to be soon. They disappeared from Wickhurst and everyone
knows about-"
"I believe Agatha has more things to say, Ysabella, dear."
Ysabella and Emma groaned.
Agatha ignored their obvious protest. "I am a wanted woman from Kaylock."
"Wanted?" the ladies asked in unison.
Agatha nodded. "In fact, a man from there is here in Wickhurst with all intent to
take me back to face my crime."
Lady Alice was frowning, and so were her daughters. When none of them spoke, Agatha
sighed and told them the story about her grandparents, her sisters and her uncle.
She told them about the deaths in her village and of the fire that led to her
escape. By the time she was through, she was not the only one crying. The twins
were nearly wailing with tears.
"So you know that even though all of you are willing to take the risk, I cannot do
it. My name is too tainted to be fixed. My past will always come to hover over me
and I will never allow any of you to suffer for it."
"Oh, you poor child. Losing your family in such vile a manner," Lady Alice cried in
between sobs.
"They ought to be burned alive, Agatha," Ysabella said, sniffing.
"Or banished aboveground," Margaret added, wiping her eyes.
"They ought to be fed to the wolves if there are any around the Town," said Emma.
"As an Everard, no one from your village can harm you," Lady Alice proclaimed
standing to her feet. Agatha froze in shock, her wet eyes wide as the woman walked
toward her with gentle, tearful eyes. She stopped in front of Agatha and said,
"Does Benedict know of this?"
Agatha nodded. "And he is foolish enough to not-"
"He is in love, child, that's what he is," Lady Alice interjected and the twins
squealed through their tears. "And love is rare in any stations-yours or mine-and
as a mother who experienced it, I wish for nothing more for my children but to get
the rarest finds in life."
Agatha's shoulders started to shake as she sobbed, not believing her ears. How
could she be so lucky to land herself into such great people? For years she lived
in a village that saw her and her family as naught but witches. She had spent years
running and hiding from her past with the faint hope of finally having peace. Yet
life had given her more than she could have wished for. Then, she found the
Haverstons. Now, she had the Everards almost begging her to marry into their
family. She felt lucky and undeserving at the same time.
Interpreting her tears as a sign of rejection, Emma, in a rush, said, "Benedict
shall never find another like you. Think of it, Agatha. The ladies will no longer
wish to marry him. If they did think his scars were enough to reject him in the
past, they would even be more so inclined to do it now after what he had done to
Lady Frances. And that lady even deserved what happened to her after what she
accused you of!"
"Our brother shall forever live with his scars, poor him. Do not do this to the
both of you, Agatha," Ysabella begged. "Think of it! We shall be the best family
you can have! We can have endless days of respites!"
"You will regret having lost the only love you have ever known every day for the
rest of your life from this moment if you don't marry him, Agatha," Margaret said,
not moving from her chair. "Believe me, you will."
Margaret's words struck her the most for it was said with such sadness, as though
the lady had been through the very same thing. Was that what happened to her? Was
that why she never married?
Would she ever survive without choosing Benedict?
Agatha cried even harder, overwhelmed by the love she was receiving from the ladies
before her.
"I may wish for Benedict to marry someone of the same class as his, Agatha, but he
did not," Lady Alice said above her, "and in the end, it matters not to me or the
family so long as we can see him live the life he deserves. My husband and I showed
our children what love is and we wish for them to experience it to the fullest. You
may not be a lady, Agatha, but you are a good woman still." She gave Agatha's hand
a squeeze. "And that is good enough for me."
Agatha finally opened her eyes and looked at the hopeful faces before her. She
closed them once more as she uttered a prayer because whatever she had to say now
would forever change the course of her life.
*****
Benedict was scowling while he paced outside the parlor door.
Maxwell's big form was leaning against one wall, protecting the vase that
Benedict's coat had been brushing by in every pass. His face was always that of a
skeptic and Benedict made certain that he not look at Maxwell's face.
Nicholas was blocking and guarding the dog like the loyal guard that he was, an
expression of amusement on his face.
Ralph was standing by, looking lost and confused as he followed Benedict's
movements. "Is there a need to make us dizzy with your pacing?" their youngest
brother asked.
"Do not provoke the man, Ralph," Nicholas uttered, crossing his arms over his
chest. "Say, Ben, should Miss Blair agree to marry you, how do you plan to solve
the impending additional scandal?"
"Mother had already devised a plan for that," Maxwell said. "She merely needed the
two to come home so they can start acting on it."
Benedict ignored them. His mind was not on the scandal he would cause, but on
Agatha's answer. Surely she would now find reason. His family chose their own fate
by agreeing to this phenomenon. It would not be easy, but he trusted he mother to
come up with the best plan. The problem was how to convince Agatha to stop running
away.
"And why are the girls allowed to stay inside while we are forced to stay out here
watching him pace about?" he heard Ralph ask.
"Because our sisters are conniving witches," Maxwell wryly answered.
"The twins could make it worse, if you must know. They always say the wrong
things."
"And they have also matched footmen and maids. And do not forget Lady Belinda
Carrington and McKenzie Haverston. All of which are now happily married with
children."
Ralph groaned. "Don't you fear they would do the same to the rest of us? They did
it to him," he said, pointing at Benedict, "and look how horribly horrible he is."
He received another smack on the head from Nicholas. "Do shut up."
"It is taking them too long," Benedict finally said, stopping in front of Nicholas.
"Step aside, Nick."
Nicholas shook his head. "The ladies will have my head."
"And mine too," Ralph added.
"Step aside," he repeated, his words filled with warning.
The door opened behind Nicholas before his brother could give a reply. Nicholas
stepped aside to reveal Ysabella, Emma and Margaret standing in the doorway, their
faces unreadable.
"Now, stop your act and give poor Benedict his breath back, ladies," their mother
uttered as she walked past her daughters. She had a smile on her face as she gave
Benedict a wink. "Do thank me with many grandchildren, son."
Margaret, Ysabella and Emma frowned after their mother with disappointment.
Benedict rushed past them, entering the parlor, and stopped when the twins
followed. He looked over his shoulder and said, "I believe you two have done
enough, my ladies. Close the door and I prefer that you are outside when you do
it."
"Come along, my dear vixens, your fun is over," Ralph said, pulling the twins with
both hands. He gave Benedict a wink before he closed the parlor door.
Benedict turned on his heels to search for Agatha. She was sitting in the chair,
her hair a big askew. How he wished she'd let them loose, he thought as he slowly
walked toward her, a smile breaking his lips. "Well?"
She was looking at him with tears in her eyes. "You have a wonderful family,
Benedict."
Benedict.
His chest almost exploded.
"No, Blair, we have a wonderful family."

XVIII. The Ball

The wedding engagement of Benedict Harold Morgan Everard, Lord of Devonshire, and
Agatha Blair, the governess, was announced through the best scandalous manner
anyone could think of-The Town Herald.

Benedict and Agatha were reluctant to the idea but no one could stop a determined
mother as Lady Alice Everard. And to make it worse for Benedict who pledged to
acquire a marriage license that same afternoon Agatha had said yes, his mother had
more things to say:
Thou shall not marry in haste.
Thou shall wait until their engagement ball was over.
Thou shall not touch Agatha or be found alone with her.
Thou shall wait.
Thou shall wait.
Waiting was never part of his plan. Agatha could very well change her mind. Her
uncle could very well do something. And although their mother was confident Agatha
was safe in the Everard manor, Benedict grew more anxious by every passing day for
he believed that only when Agatha Blair became Agatha Everard could she be truly
safe from the wrath of her past.
"Should you be more concerned about the entire population of Wickhurst sympathizing
with the Highmores?" Maxwell asked during breakfast.
"Lord Highmore ought to be more concerned about his newly acquired estate for I
intend to take it away if his daughter makes another scene," Benedict said darkly.
"You do realize you have, in more ways than one, scorned Frances Highmore, yes?"
Nicholas asked. "She would not have done the things she did-"
"Of course, I do," he snapped. "Which is why I keep mum on the scandal. They do
deserve the sympathy. Agatha, on the other hand, does not deserve their ire."
Ralph rolled his eyes. "The ever virtuous and vicious society, how can I ever
survive it?"
"You will not, really," Ysabella told him.
"You will be the biggest victim of it," Emma said with a laugh. "You are the
epitome of scandal."
"I have not done anything to warrant me of such, sister," Ralph retorted.
"Oh, but I see great potential. Don't you, Nick?"
Nick merely grumbled. "I'd rather save my energy for tonight's ball."
"There are quite a lot of people invited tonight I wonder who will show up,"
Margaret said. "Is Levi arriving?"
"He has to. Mother's orders are as good as that of the Town Leaders," Maxwell said
with a dry laugh.
"And speaking of the woman, she ought to have told me she is going to take Agatha
out for a fitting. We cannot be certain her uncle will not show up-"
"They took Silas with them, I believe," Ysabella said. "I would love to see Agatha
wearing her gown. Mother should have woken us," she said to Emma who nodded in
agreement.
"If they took Silas, then they are in even more danger," Benedict said, standing
up.
"Where are you going?" Margaret asked.
"To make sure my valet is doing his job protecting my fiancée and our mother," he
stated as he stormed out of the room.
"Besotted fool," he heard Ralph say and did not bother to go back to smack his
brother's head for the twins had jumped to his rescue. Their voices and cries rang
behind him with Maxwell's voice saying, "Stop it this instant! I swear I will hang
the three of you right in the middle of the ball tonight!"
******
"Stop fretting too much over the ball, dear," Lady Alice said to Agatha.
They were inside her new bedchamber-one which was closer to Margaret's and one
Benedict could not possibly visit until their wedding. Patsy, her dear chambermaid
friend whom she chose to be her lady maid was fixing her hair.
It had only been earlier when Benedict stormed into Madam Vernice's shop, claiming
his mother ought not to tag Agatha along the streets of Wickhurst for everybody to
see and scorn as the scandal was too fresh. She agreed with Benedict and even more
so now as the ball was approaching. There had not been a single pair of eyes in the
streets that day that did not show hate or disgust. If it were not for Lady Alice's
apparent ignorance of the attention thrown at them, Agatha was certain she would
have melted in shame.
And now Benedict's mother was throwing a ball. Agatha had never dreamed of one to
be held in her honor. And she dreaded the very moment she had to appear in front of
no one-for it was highly possible no one would dare contradict the ire of the
people and come to celebrate her engagement with Benedict.
"I have thought this ball through," Lady Alice further assured her. "Oh, you look
marvelous. Oh, Agatha, Benedict will be stupefied when he beholds you."
Agatha could not bring herself to smile. "My lady, I do honestly feel the ball will
be a failure. Not that I do not trust you at all, but I do not trust the people to
even bring themselves to get into a dress and arrive here."
"Dear, they will come. Most especially if they saw the other names on the list."
"Other names?" she turned to face Lady Alice. The lady was wearing a mischievous
look on her face. The twins did get their streaks from somewhere and it was clear
from whom.
"Have you not seen the list of guests, dear?"
No, she honestly did not even bother to look at it. Her mind had been too full of
many things since that day in the parlor. She could not even make certain if she
had stepped into a dream and had not come out yet thus far. Agatha felt still that
she might be in the carriage to Wickhurst from Devonshire and everything thus far
had not been but her mind showing her what she hoped would happen, and any moment
could be the time that she had to wake up.
"Well," Lady Alice said with a satisfied smile. "I did invite the Theobalds and the
Haverstons."
Agatha's eyes widened. "The Theobalds and the Haverstons?"
"Of course, dear. You did inform the Haverstons of your impending wedding as I
suggested, did you not?"
Agatha nodded. "Yes, I sent Lady Mary a missive."
"Then you must expect them to come. I have sent the invites five days prior."
"But that was-"
"Before you arrived from Devonshire, yes," Lady Alice replied. "It is always well
to act in advance than make mistakes in the haste of the moment."
The Haverstons were coming.
"The Theobalds are dear friends of ours, Agatha, and they are quite influential.
Their name alone can drag most of Wickhurst to the ball. Add the Haverstons who are
the same in Willowfair and we shall have a packed ballroom tonight. Now, what did I
tell you? Do not fret."
Her eyes watered. "I cannot tell you how I feel at this moment, my lady-"
"You ought to start calling me Mother now, dear. And you do not have to tell me
anything. I see how you look at Benedict. My son deserves a woman who sees him for
who he is. Everards take care of their own, dear. We do not rely on others to do it
for us. And as a future Everard, you must be assured our loyalty is with you. Not a
reluctant soul is going to the ball tonight-at least for all of us Everards. Now,
let Patsy finish your hair. Benedict had expressed his wish to see no more of that
horrible tight bun. Oh, he is making demands now, is he? We shall give him reason
to be speechless tonight, I tell you that..."
Agatha let her future mother-in-law prattle on. Faces from the then and now flashed
before her eyes. She clearly saw her grandparents and sisters smiling at her with a
nod, the scornful look of the entire village of Kaylock, of the Vicar, of
Benedict's gentle eyes and smile, his scars and his past, of the twins and Margaret
and Lady Alice. Despite everything she feared, despite the certainty that the rest
of Wickhurst saw her as naught but a servant who seduced her master and in turn
ruined a good future of a respectable lady in society, Agatha could no longer see
herself running away.
The Haverstons showed her generosity and friendship. The Everards, on the other
hand, showed her home and family.
One worry at a time, Agatha, she told her mind. One worry at a time.
For a moment she let the thoughts of the Vicar be locked somewhere in the darkest
corners of her mind. The Everards vowed to be by her side if her past would prove
to be difficult. She had more than someone now and they were a family of vicious,
wicked people.
One worry at a time.
*****
"Who would have thought that Agatha would be the center of attention in such a
grand occasion as this?"
The twins snapped their heads at the sound of the voice behind them. They were
about to say something worthy of insult to the owner of the voice but stopped when
they spotted Belinda Haverston standing with the woman who had brown hair and
another one with the starkest black mane they had ever seen.
The Haverstons.
And just as the twins realized the fact, three men stepped through the grand
doorway.
"Belinda!" Ysabella and Emma cried out, rushing past the crowd gawking at the new
arrivals. "We missed you! We missed you!"
Belinda turned her red head and broke into a smile when she saw them rushing
forward. Her husband, McKenzie Haverston was whispering something to his two
brothers while Belinda hugged the twins in turn.
"I do believe you have met Lady Cressida and Lady Mary?" Belinda asked them,
gesturing at the two ladies.
"Of course, although I doubt they do remember us," Cressida said with a smile.
"They were merely children when they attended your wedding. But now you have grown
into beautiful ladies!"
"No, we were not, really," Ysabella said, lifting her chin. "We were old enough to
remember you cried. Although the memory came back just now, Lady Cressida."
"And you have met our husbands as well," Mary added, pointing at the three large
men behind them while Cressida insisted that she did not cry at Belinda's wedding.
"Lord Calan, Lord Adrien," the twins curtsied in haste at the two Haverstons before
they faced McKenzie with a knowing look. "And of course, the one with the scar,"
Emma said with a chuckle. "How every kind of all of you to come," Ysabella added.
"And where are Cecile and Isaac, Belinda?"
"The twins are with my father," Belinda answered.
"To expose them to the two of you is the last thing I would wish for," McKenzie
Haverston said in jest. He craned his neck over their heads and asked, "And where
is Everard?"
"Which Everard are you asking for?" the twins asked.
McKenzie sighed. "The one with more scars than I."
"Ah, that Everard," the twins laughed. "He is, I believe, currently missing,"
Ysabella said, adding in a whisper, "And so is Agatha, if you know what I mean."
Lady Cressida rolled her light blue eyes. "Of course. By the by, I was thinking we
would arrive in an empty ball. I must have been wrong."
"It seems, Lady Cressida, that the people in Wickhurst are quite more interested in
seeing the famous Cressida Belverst in flesh," Ysabella teased.
"Ah, yes, of course," Cressida mumbled, her hand reaching out to her husband.
"Come, Calan, show me around. What was the last scandal the Herald posted about me
again?"
As the couple walked off, followed by curious eyes, Mary Haverston spoke to the
twins, "I do wish Agatha is not having so much trouble because of the engagement."
Her voice was filled with worry.
"That girl has more spirit in her as I remember," her husband, Adrien Haverston
said to Mary. "You were without a title when you married me and it caused quite a
scandal as well, remember?"
"But she was filthy rich, Adrien," Belinda contradicted. "She still is. That makes
quite a big difference."
"Well, Agatha may not be as rich as Lady Mary, but she has the entire Everards
behind her," Ysabella said.
"And I believe we are richer?" Emma asked Mary.
The woman offered a warm smile. "Of course, you are, dears."
"I want a drink," McKenzie said to Adrien. "Do get me one, brother."
"Go get it yourself," Adrien snapped before taking his wife's hand. "Come wife, I
believe the dancing has started."
"I rather like this ball," Belinda said as McKenzie ushered her away for
refreshments. "It is even grander than the Macy's."
The twins looked at the guests around them. Many were from other towns and many
were names the people of Wickhurst would surely recognize. Their mother was a
genius, really. At one corner they saw Tori talking with Levi who had arrived not
an hour ago from Standbury, Margaret with another lord from Wickhurst, Ralph
dancing with another maiden who lived near the Highmores, and they could not be
more content. Maxwell and Nicholas were talking with some elderly people their
family had known for generations. People from Wickhurst had come and they did so
with enthusiasm.
The Haverstons had arrived. Now, where were the Theobalds?
*****
Benedict was holding Agatha's hand in a tight grip.
"Breathe, Blair," he ordered. They were behind a closed door that led to the grand
ballroom. The empty corridor behind them did not help her nerves rather it tempted
her to go back to her bedchamber until the ball was over. "People will notice our
absence. We ought to show ourselves."
She looked at Benedict with wary. "Do you not feel anxious at all?"
He lifted her hand and planted her palm over his chest. "Do you feel it?" She
nodded. His heart was racing as fast as hers. How could he hide it so well? "You
are not alone in this, Blair. But we must face this. Let us celebrate with those
who braved the norms of society and showed themselves tonight. Will you do that for
me?"
She swallowed before nodding her head.
"Good," he said, bending down to plant a quick kiss on her lips. "Now, let's go."
He started to pull her to the door but Agatha pulled back. Benedict faced her, his
brows arched in question.
"I love you," she whispered up to him.
Her beast broke into a smile. "About time you say it, witch."
Agatha narrowed her eyes. "Witch?"
"You bewitched me. You're a witch," he said before giving her another kiss. "Now,
before I ravish you in this new golden gown of yours, let us pause for now and face
them."
Agatha tightened her hand around his. Benedict turned toward the door and pushed it
open.
The light from inside washed over them as they stepped inside, hand in hand, to
face the sea of people.

XXIX. In Sickness and in Health

Agatha's heart was raging a battle inside her chest. The crowd had gone quiet as
Benedict led her to the middle of the ballroom. She almost felt every eye touching
every part of her exposed self.

There were many who stared at her with eyes devoid of any felicitations. In fact,
they simply stared. If it were not proper to scowl, they might have done more than
that. But it was a grand ball held by Lady Alice Everard herself, and a ball
attended by names such as that of the Theobalds and the Haverstons.
There were a few she recognized who were from Wickhurst who offered her a faint
smile.
Benedict tightened his grip around her hand. He leaned close to her ear and
whispered, "Focus on those you only hold dear."
Agatha did as she was told and searched the crowd. She saw Margaret first and the
lady was smiling at her with Tori and Levi beside her. Nicholas and Ralph were at
one side, grinning at Benedict and lifting their drinks in silence. Maxwell was
standing beside Lady Alice who was wiping tears from her eyes. One would think she
was already at her son's wedding to shed such amount of tears.
The twins were beaming at her the widest. Their restless feet made them look as
though they were dancing and skipping in one place. Agatha started to break into a
smile then and she fought the tears that threatened to erupt.
She would not cry tonight. She had shed too much.
As she and Benedict reached the center of the ballroom and the people behind them
began to move and continue on with their activities, a hand grabbed Agatha's arm.
She turned and saw Mary Haverston with tears in her eyes before she was pulled into
the lady's embrace.
"You'll smother her, love," Adrien Haverston said nearby. "And you'll ruin her
dress."
"You are happy, are you not, Agatha?" Mary whispered in her ear, ignoring her
husband.
She nodded. "I am, my lady."
"That is enough for me, dear. Enough for anyone," Mary whispered before leaning
away to give her a peck for everyone to see. "I wish you a very happy life, Agatha.
I cannot wait to see you on your wedding day."
Mary's beautiful feature was blurred by Agatha's tears. She remembered the
countless days Mary Haverston had patiently taught her how to read and write. "I
shall forever be grateful to you." And from the corner of her eye she saw Adrien
Haverston's expectant look. "And your husband."
"You never changed, Agatha," Adrien uttered with a shake of his head. "And never do
change. I am quite fond of you."
"I believe I can have her back now?" Benedict's voice asked from behind.
"You can have her for the rest of your life-" Adrien started to protest but the
abrupt pause of the music stopped them.
Benedict turned and found his mother on the stage, looking for him and Agatha.
"We ought to go," he whispered beside her. They made a hasty goodbye to Mary and
Adrien Haverston before they made their way toward Lady Alice. By then, Agatha felt
a tad more comfortable. Not all may celebrate with her tonight, but then she could
not please everyone. To have those she cherished express their happiness for her
must account to be enough.
"Many may find the recent events shocking-believe me, I did as well-but I do wish
that those of you who chose to come here tonight shall forever hold your peace,"
Lady Alice addressed the crowd as Benedict and Agatha stood beside her. "I care not
for what is proper in the eyes of society. As a mother, I care most for my
children's happiness and that of the people they love. And like most of us here
tonight, I shall stand by my family and our ideals-one that of respect, kindness
and love." She gave Benedict and Agatha her warmest smile as her eyes glimmered
with tears. "And happiness," she added before she faced the crowd once more. "It is
my greatest and fondest pleasure to formally announce the engagement of my son to
one of the most intelligent, wise, beautiful and kind woman I ever had the chance
to live with. She taught my daughters many things a tutor ought to, many manners a
governess should, and virtues any woman must possess. Most of all, she taught them
how it is well to be confident in your own skin, to find joy in the simplest of
things and to drop all social graces when happiness is at stake. I've seen my
children grow not merely in intellect, but as well in the heart and soul." Agatha
was crying even before Lady Alice finished her speech. She had broken her promise
not two twice now. Lady Alice was facing the crowd with her chin raised high, her
back erect with pride. "Agatha Blair is more of a lady in my eyes than anyone could
be and I am glad to call her family." Her future mother-in-law gave her a wink as
she said, "To Benedict and Agatha!"
"Benedict and Agatha!" the crowd cheered. Benedict grabbed the glass from Agatha's
hand when she could not drink it and finished it himself. For the first time,
Agatha saw her beast smile in front of more than eight people that was not family.
*****
While everyone was distracted with each other, Benedict pulled Agatha from the
ballroom.
"Where are we going?" she asked with a chuckle.
He was leading them to the gardens.
Really, to walk through it with no task such as looking for missing wards was
utterly blissful. It was not close to the second garden rendezvous with Benedict as
well for now she was certain of one thing: she was walking with him. And she'd be
doing it for the rest of their lives together.
His face was free of any emotion, but the slight lift of one corner of his lips
told her he was feeling the same. They walked further into the furthest corners of
the garden and when Benedict was certain not a soul was in sight, he grabbed her
close to him and claimed her mouth for a long, lingering kiss.
Agatha's hands came to rest on the nape of his neck, playing with his hair as she
reveled in the kiss. Since their engagement, they had to be content on stolen
moments such as this. Benedict groaned when Agatha dared to thrust her tongue into
his mouth, seeking and tasting.
"Careful, Blair, we don't want to go too far," he whispered as he nipped her lower
lip, his hands running up and down her spine. His breath was warm against her skin
as he pressed closer and his hand found her breast over the fabric of her gown. "We
must wait until the wedding."
"But we are getting married," she reasoned, pressing closer into his hand, her own
traveling down to rest on his heaving chest.
"Do not attempt to be provocative, Blair," he rasped into her ear. He gave the lobe
a light bite, sending a rush of tingling sensations to her fingertips. "And you
will want a bed for what I plan to do to you."
Agatha groaned and stiffened.
"What is it?" he asked, his voice filled with alarm.
"Did you not hear that?" she whispered.
He shook his head and the both craned their neck, bodies still pressed together, to
listen further.
"Ben! Agatha!" Ysabella's distant voice called.
"Agatha! You know this is not wise. Mother will kill us if you do not come back
now!" Emma.
Agatha pushed away from Benedict and opened her mouth to call out for the twins but
her fiancé had a better idea. He covered her mouth with one hand and gestured for
her to keep quiet with the other. She scowled at him through her eyes.
"Agatha!"
"Benedict!"
"Let them experience for a tiny bit more the same exasperations they had wrought us
all. Believe me, many would thank us for it," Benedict whispered to Agatha, his
eyes suddenly filled with the same mischievous glint his sisters often wore. She
slapped his arm and he grinned at her, wrinkling his scars. He was the most
beautiful beast and he was hers. She softened in his arms and he took that as a
sign of compliance. He pulled her deeper into the darkness and they stood waiting
and listening as the twins searched for them.
"Mother will kill us," Ysabella was saying with worry.
"You were supposed to watch them."
"No, we were supposed to watch them!" Ysabella cried with frustration. "Mother knew
Ben would do this. I'd add another scar on that face of his when the chance
presents itself. No, I'd be certain to carve the entire galaxy on his face!"
"You have not seen the galaxy apart from what the holes would allow. How would you
carve it on his face?"
"Have you not read the books, Em? They provide a good description of the stars.
There is no mention of them having an exact order either. And I am telling you, I
shall carve each of them on Ben's face."
"I suggest you draw the entire map of the Town. It would be much appreciated," Emma
uttered with a giggle. "Imagine how useful he'd be. 'Where is Ben? I need direction
to Willowfair!'," she added, assuming a man's voice.
Ysabella laughed. Benedict covered Agatha's mouth once more when she almost joined
the lady with her mirth.
"Or Westershire," Ysabella added between laughter.
"Who lives in Westershire again? Is it Adrien Haverston or Calan Haverston?"
"Calan."
"Does he not live in Easton?"
"Well, who cares so long as they do live somewhere," Ysabella uttered, brushing the
topic off.
Silence followed. Benedict uncovered Agatha's mouth as they both held their
breaths.
"I guess they are not here," Emma said, her voice turning serious once more.
"Well, we cannot very well walk back and allow mother to discover we have lost
them." Their voices were once more etched with frustration.
Benedict's chest rumbled with silent laughter beside Agatha. She stared up at him
with wonder. Mayhap things would go as well as Lady Alice had hoped for. This
moment right here was one she would never forget.
"Well, I no longer care what those two do with their time alone, really," Emma
nonchalantly declared. "I believe they are doing us all a big favor."
"Do you mean they are making babies?"
Agatha muffled her snort with both hands while Benedict's chest rumbled with a
heavier, silent laugh.
"Well, if you come to think of it," Ysabella continued, her voice growing faint.
"We might as well cover for their disappearance. Would you like another set of
twins in the family?"
"We are not twins, you oaf," Emma snapped.
"Well, we could very well be."
"I wish for more girls. There are enough men in this family to bother with and..."
It was only when the twins' voices had finally disappeared did Benedict let out a
rumble of laughter and Agatha could not help but laugh with him. He cupped her face
in his hands a long while later and with his eyes still glinting with the same
amount of joy as hers, he whispered, "I love you, Blair."
She smiled. "Why do you not call me with another name but Blair?"
"No one calls you Blair. I alone own the right to do so. It is rather special in
many ways," he uttered as he leaned down to meet her lips. "And it is better than
witch."
*****
The wedding preparations, Lady Alice had found, were far more in her favor now that
she was the sole person who ought to do it. Since Agatha had no family left, except
for her uncle whom no one ever mentioned in her presence, Lady Alice had full reign
of almost everything. She merely consulted the couple as to their preference in
colors and styles, but the rest was for her to endeavor.
The Town Herald continued its daily reports on the Everards and Agatha Blair,
reporting their every move. To make it shoddier, they never missed a single day
describing how Lady Frances Highmore looked sickly and fragile in this ball and
that ball.
The sensitivity of the matter forced the twins to pass the rest of the season, much
to their satisfaction. They claimed they would rather spend the rest of their days
with their cat, Mrs. Beagle, than cause their faces to ache by forced smiles and
pretenses. That, of course, also gave them more time to guard Agatha from Benedict,
tailing their former governess from one room to another.
The brothers never left for their planned hunting trip, opting to stay to provide
what Ralph would call familial support, one their mother greatly appreciated with
another outburst of tears, but his sisters took as a mockery. Levi, much to their
surprise chose to stay as well. For him to leave Standbury for quite that long was
indeed a big amazement. And he seemed to be spending more time with Tori than
anyone had expected, causing curiosity among the rest of the Everards, even more so
on the twins.
To maintain their presence in society, Margaret and the rest of the brothers
decided to appear in balls they were invited to, the number of which had lessened
since the scandal. That, of course, was expected. Agatha tried her best not to
mind, but there were moments when she could not help but wonder what the Everards
felt toward this change in their social activities. Still, there were a few
families in Wickhurst who sent invites, either because they owe the Everards great
debts or they were merely curious if Benedict and his fiancée would dare appear.
The loyal customers of their jewelry lines were the most cordial most of the time.
And such evenings when the rest of the Everards were present were never missed by
the Town Herald as well.
Her life in the manor had drastically changed as well. Lady Alice berated her one
morning when she found Agatha arranging books in the twins' study. "You are no
longer their governess, Agatha," the lady had reprimanded. "Nor are you their
tutor. Their companion shall start in a week and your task now is to start
embracing your new life as an Everard."
She had no qualms being called an Everard for it meant sharing it with Benedict,
but she had to face the servants as well. Silas had started addressing her as my
lady while Jefferson still found it hard to adapt however hard he tried. Charlotte,
on the other hand, was another matter. The housekeeper had refused to even look her
in the eye since her engagement with Benedict was made known. But Patsy had never
told her anything Charlotte had said about her elevated status. Mayhap the lady had
chosen to keep mum despite the obvious that she might never accept Agatha as a
mistress, an idea that Agatha had no trouble accepting as well.
Agatha would never be a mistress in the Everard estate in Wickhurst for once she
and Benedict married, they would take residence in Devonshire, and she could never
wait for the day. It meant leaving Wickhurst. It meant allowing the town the amount
of time it needed to forget about her and what she had wrought to one of their own.
And mayhap, give the rest of the Everards back what was being deprived of them now.
Scandals and Herald articles set aside, Agatha and Benedict were enjoying the
little freedom their family allowed them alone in some rare occasions. They would
talk about children and of plans for the future. There was not one moment when they
talked about their pasts for it was clear that neither wanted it to be part of
their life together. They would always be there, but would never be part of
anything.
And as blissful as the days to come may seem, the Town Herald reported a very bad
news, one that might affect the Everards more than anyone else.
Lady Frances Highmore had fallen ill and Wickhurst was blaming Agatha Blair.

XXX. The Vile of Wickhurst

The news was a shock to every member of the Everards. Not because of Lady Frances
having been confined in bed for days now, but for the despicable way Wickhurst was
pointing at Agatha to be the cause of it.
Benedict was about ready to march to the Highmore estate and demand that Frances'
father clear Agatha's name, but his brothers stopped him.
"It would not do us any good if you fight a sword with the same blade," Maxwell
reminded him.
"This will come to pass," their mother declared although her face was starting to
show signs of weariness. The ball may have been a success, but it was but one night
and the guests had gone home. Once more, the Everards were left to fend for
themselves.
Agatha had stopped blaming herself for it was apparent her newfound family would
have none of it. Instead of mourning over what she and Benedict had wrought, she
thought of a way to aide in the matter at hand.
Benedict may not say it but she knew that many of the workers in the mines had
dropped their tools and left in fear of his fiancé's so-called wrath.
Wickhurst after all, she thought, was not too different from Kaylock. When she had
thought newfound and well-grounded knowledge and learning had devoid the town of
ancient beliefs, it proved itself vulnerable still to tenuous things.
Rumors of Agatha Blair as a witch from the small town of Kaylock spread around
Wickhurst like a plague. Everyone seemed to suddenly have great knowledge of her
past, each having an opinion of their own, each suddenly an expert of her life. It
was as though the once plain and boring governess had been under their noses for
all her life that they found themselves worthy to judge her person.
Levi had suggested bringing his sisters and their mother to Standbury to escape
from the strain caused by the scandal.
"No such thing shall happen," their mother adamantly stated. "This is but another
foolish and inflated rumor spread by those waiting for the perfect opportunity to
break us down. You ought to learn by now that society will never waver until the
truth is thrust down their throats, until they find the need to spit them out
themselves. Far greater scandals had been faced by many of your ancestors and this
shall not be the last."
On the other hand, despite Lady Alice's strong conviction to stay in Wickhurst, the
twins were the only ones brave enough to read the daily Herald articles. And they
made certain that everyone knew of their contents over dinner or tea.
"Can you not spare us of the details for once?" Ralph groaned as Emma narrated the
front page of the Herald that morning.
"But are you not curious? Have you heard of a word we said?" Emma uttered in
disbelief. "They say that Agatha has casted a spell on us all! And she did the same
with Lady Highmore after the lady humiliated her with the ruby!"
"No, I am not curious at all," their brother uttered dryly. "I know for certain
that Lady Frances is suffering an unexplained illness not seen by many doctors
before. And I know for a fact that Agatha had been busy sneaking around the manor
with Benedict to cast a spell on her or anyone else."
Agatha winced, not utterly sure whether or not to find humor or be horrified.
"The rumor is not dying anytime soon as I see it," Margaret commented, her face
serious. "How could we proceed with the wedding if your former bride is purportedly
dying in bed, Ben?"
Benedict did not offer a reply. His jaw twitched as he stared hard at his plate.
"We might as well tackle this problem at another angle," Agatha finally broke her
silence.
Everyone's eyes turned to focus on her. It was the first she spoke of anything
concerning a solution. "If we cannot clear my name, we might as well find a way to
help Frances Highmore. Surely there are doctors around-"
"No," was Benedict's strong word. His eyes locked into hers. "You will not make any
attempt for it will merely be seen in a bad light."
Agatha remained silent, sparing the Everards of her plans.
*****
The reply arrived shortly after she sent the first message. Patsy handed it to her
in secret inside her bedchamber, her face anxious after escaping the manor when
Agatha asked for this important favor.
Dear Miss Blair,
Please do believe that I am not among the many who think of you a witch. No such
thing exists for men of my profession. Regarding your inquiry of the symptoms
experienced by Lady Highmore, they are of the usual obvious ones one would find in
common winter flu. The difference being is that she has drastically lost weight and
is getting weaker by each passing day.
I hope this satisfies your curiosity.
Yours,
Doctor Johannes
P.S. Felicitations on your impending wedding. The Everards deserve a lady such as
you. If the circumstances were not only dire.
Agatha immediately picked up her pen, dipped it in the inkwell and scribbled a
reply.
Dear Doctor Johannes,
I hope you will not find the following in any way demeaning of your profession for
I know for a fact that you are an outstanding doctor. I believe, however, that I
may provide a solution to Lady Highmore's condition. In my many readings of the
history of diseases, I came upon a book that described the same phenomenon in your
hands. A village not far from Kaylock had encountered this rare disease and a
doctor has found a cure for it. Kaylock had an unexplainable illness happen to many
of its people years past, but it did not share the same symptoms as Lady
Highmore's. However, I believe that the one in Whipleton was the same for I have
studied it in my search for answers to what happened in Kaylock many years after I
left.
I do not intend to cause any more trouble and I would appreciate if you keep our
correspondence a secret. Should you opt to find this doctor, I shall give my maid,
Patsy, the details of his address. I do not feel right writing it down should you
opt to ignore my missive.
Yours,
Agatha Blair
P.S. I dearly accept your felicitations. If the circumstances were not dire, I may
have already invited you to the wedding.
*****
Agatha dared not tell Benedict or any of the Everards of her little secret. If
Doctor Johannes heeded her advice and searched for the doctor in Whipleton, then
she would silently be glad. And if he did not, no harm was done.
The Highmores chose to keep the public away from Lady Frances, never voicing a
comment on her condition and merely saying through the Herald that the doctors were
doing their best to find a cure.
Meanwhile, Agatha was growing restless by the day. She knew, despite his absence,
that the Vicar was behind the witch rumors. People started to complain of suddenly
falling ill or having caught a fever after they passed by the Everard estate.
"It is naught but their minds playing a trick on them," Benedict assured her one
evening when she finally confessed her worry in the parlor. He took her hand in
his. "Even Kaylock cannot prove the crime they accuse you of."
"Hearsay, my lord, can as much brew truth," she sighed, closing her eyes. "Have you
read the Herald today?"
"No, but the twins made certain I knew of its contents," he said in a tight voice.
"Being prisoners in their own home has turned them into ruthless monsters."
Agatha allowed herself a small smile. The twins had been quite a distraction in the
past days.
"It was him who told them about Kaylock, I am certain of it," whispered Agatha
after a while.
"Who else could it be? He is the only one apart from us who knows of your past."
"And now the entire Wickhurst is aware of it."
Benedict glowered at the window across the room. "They missed the part where your
village burned your family alive." Agatha shivered at his words. With a sigh, he
gathered her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Blair. I should not remind you."
"You are angry. I understand," she whispered, swallowing her tears. "Mayhap it is
better left unsaid-the part about my family. I do not wish for their memory to be
spoken in vain."
He gave her a slight shake. "The people deserve the truth. Whoever writes those
articles on the Herald must dig the truth and not be content feeding the people
with hearsays from no one but one man who has intent to ruin you."
"I worry for your family. This will get worse."
Benedict's arms stiffened around her. "You are not thinking of running away, are
you, Blair? Do not dare," he warned.
"I am not. Even if I want to, I cannot."
"Of course you cannot. It is too late for that. You have been running away for too
long. It is about time you stop and face this."
"But how? How can I when I am facing society itself? They have been nothing but
nice," she said, her voice laced with derision at her last words.
His arms tightened around her. "Let me device a plan. You are to marry a wise man,
if you do not know."
A faint smile tugged on her lips. "I am starting to realize it, yes."
He chuckled and gave her a kiss. "Do not fret, Blair. Soon the Herald will have
naught but pages and pages of our wedding."
Agatha smiled against his chest, hoping his words would come true by morning.
*****
They did not.
All her hopes had suddenly vanished into thin air the moment light vanished through
the holes, signaling that night had come.
While the silent and now-feared estate of the Everards welcomed the evening, with
the entire family having dinner, locked away from the scornful people of Wickhurst,
they started to hear voices from the outside.
Their cries made Agatha turn cold and her face pale. They sounded eerily familiar-
the sound of horses' hooves and angry voices.
She was certain that if she closed her eyes and focused on naught but the voices,
she would be transported back to that night when she woke up and found their
cottage burning.
Only this time she was not in a cottage. Nor was she with her grandmother and
sisters. She was in a vast estate with her new family.
Yet the voices still screamed for the same thing. They screamed for her.
Benedict, Levi, Maxwell and Nicholas came to their feet, followed shortly by Ralph.
Lady Alice's face became alert, so did Margaret's.
"What in bloody tarnation are those men doing outside?" Nicholas cried out as he
and the rest of his brothers looked out the window.
"My lords!" Jefferson breathlessly uttered as he came striding inside the dining
room, two footmen behind him. "The entire Wickhurst's Men of Courts are outside
demanding for Miss Blair to surrender! They have papers!"
"The Men of Courts?" Benedict's icy tone rang around the room. "Surrender?"
Jefferson swallowed hard. "They demand for Miss Blair and they shall use force if
they are met with a struggle."
"Why ever would they think that?" Lady Alice asked.
No one answered. Agatha helplessly stared after Margaret who quickly ushered the
twins out of the room. Ysabella and Emma were reluctant, but they heeded their
sister's orders.
"Because they believe you are hiding a criminal." Her words came out a whisper.
"The bloody hell we are!" Maxwell roared, stalking toward the doorway.
Ralph turned away from the window. "I do not see a single Town Guard among those
men. The Men of Courts is to stay inside the benches, not go after people to bring
to the courts!"
"You are no criminal," Levi said to Agatha, his voice cold.
The shouting outside grew louder. Agatha flinched, a tear threatening to fall from
one eye. A distant sound of a crackling fire erupted from her memory. Suddenly she
was back in the smoky, scorching heat.
She blinked not just the tear but also the memory of their screaming voices, of the
smell of fire and smoke, of the villagers' angry cries. Planting her palms on the
table, Agatha pushed to her feet.
Lady Alice's eyes were wide with horror as she stared at Agatha. "Agatha, where are
you going?"
Her feet were taking her out of the room.
"Blair, stay here," Benedict called after her.
She quickened her steps. She could barely feel her legs, yet she trudged on.
She could not let them do it again. They may be different people, but they had the
same goals. They may be the Men of Courts, but they want the same thing as the
villagers of Kaylock.
Agatha was not losing her family over again.
Not this time.
Benedict caught her arm and whirled her around to face him. They had reached the
grand hallway. His brothers and Lady Alice were standing close by.
The shouting grew louder, the restless sound of horses' hooves even more so.
"They want me," she whispered up to him.
"And they will not get you." The scars on his face seemed to have a life of their
own as his face twitched with conviction. "They will not."
"They will leave the rest of you alone if I go with them."
"No!" Lady Alice shouted behind them.
"They will not kill me," she insisted. "If they are in fact the Men of Courts, they
are obligated by the law to hold me prisoner. And if they follow the law as stated,
I cannot be persecuted without due trial." She looked at Benedict, his brothers and
Lady Alice in turn.
"They cannot arrest you for a bloody unreasonable and unfounded accusation! They
are not the Town Guards!" Ralph insisted.
Agatha nodded. "And they shall never be content until they have me in their hands.
We cannot live the rest of our lives as prisoners of this manor." She swallowed and
continued, "Wickhurst is different from Kaylock and I believe I shall be safe if I
go with them." Her hands lifted to touch Benedict's scarred face. "And while I
await trial, all of you shall find a way to rescue from the dungeon. Like in the
stories," she tried to jest but failed.
He was already shaking his head before she said her last word. "No, we can do it
with you. Blair, do not do this. They may never let you go. This is not one of
those stories."
Agatha came to her toes and kissed him on the mouth. And then she whispered in his
ears, "Send word for Calan and McKenzie Haverston, Benedict."
She stepped back and squared her shoulders. Benedict was frowning down at her.
"They'll know what to do," she uttered. "Trust me, please."
It was clear he did not comprehend, but the trust was in his eyes. Benedict's face
tightened, but his hands slackened. "This will be the last I'll ever be forced to
do what you wish, Blair."
Agatha had faith he'd take the right course and call for the Haverstons, the only
people left she could trust and had the power to help. She stepped further away
from Benedict, looked over at his family-their family-and back at him.
"I love you," she told them before she turned to walk to the main doors, shoulders
square and back erect.
It is about time you stop and face this, Benedict had said.
And so she was.

XXXI. Leaguers, a Guard, a Man of Courts

The Men of Courts present outside the Everard estate were short one to a dozen.
They all appeared to be men of high social standing. Most of them she had seen in
the few balls she attended with the twins and some often mentioned on the Herald.
But one man stood out as he calmly watched her descend. She had never seen him
before yet she knew he was probably the youngest as well as the leader of the
group.

The men appeared so dark and menacing as she slowly stepped out with shaking limbs.
All of whom donned black coats. All of whom wanted her the same way the villagers
of Kaylock did many years past. But unlike before, Agatha would face them.
Her eyes scanned the men. It was quite a surprise the Vicar was not among them.
Agatha mentally shook her head. He always knew how to play his game, overcoming his
frailty by being the man behind many things, contentedly stepping back when the
real battle he started was yet to begin.
"I shall come with you, gentlemen," she uttered, stepping before the leader.
"Due to the pressing matter at hand, and by the demands of the majority of
Wickhurst, we are obliged by the court to arrest you, Miss Blair," the leader
uttered, looking squarely into her eyes. She could not find a tinge of judgment in
them, nor did she find sympathy.
"Devitt," Benedict's voice was filled with disbelief behind Agatha. Remembering the
name, Agatha's eyes widened. Cole Devitt.
The man tore his dark eyes from Agatha to look at Benedict over her head. A small
smile touched the man's lips. "Benedict."
"As far as my memory serves me, you are not a member of the Men of Courts in
Wickhurst."
Agatha dared not move as Benedict spoke from behind.
Cole Devitt's lips stretched into a tight smile. "I have been reassigned. I wonder
why you are even surprised."
"And the first thing you do is arrest my fiancée."
"Yes. By demand of the people of Wickhurst."
"If you are, in fact, insisting on my arrest, I wish to go now," Agatha uttered,
breaking the growing tension between Benedict and Cole Devitt.
Cole Devitt touched his hat to acknowledge Benedict and probably the other members
of the Everard family standing behind her. "Sad to say your fiancée is correct,
Benedict. This will not be the last you will see of me, I am sure."
Without another word, Cole Devitt stepped aside to make way for Agatha. The
carriage door was already open and she walked toward it, passing by men who scowled
on each side. Cole Devitt's strong presence was behind her.
"Blair!" Benedict's voice called out. She stopped, looked over her shoulder. His
intense eyes bored into hers. Her beast looked as though he was ready to claw his
way toward her and rescue her from these men. Behind him stood his brothers and the
crying Lady Alice. "You shall be free. I promise you that. The wedding is
happening."
She forced a smile on her face. "I shall hold you to that, my lord." It took all
her might to turn away and climb inside the carriage. Shortly after, Cole Devitt
joined her.
Agatha closed her eyes as the carriage started to move. Many years ago, she had
left her heart behind a burning cottage. It came to find its way back only to be
left behind once more. But this time she was certain the people she left it with
shall give it care for they were alive and safe.
*****
Cole Devitt had been staring at Agatha for most of their journey to wherever they
planned to take her. His eyes were devoid of any indication of his opinions of her.
Perhaps it was one of the qualities necessary to be a member of the Men of Courts.
Looking at the man, Agatha had a slight glimpse of what Leah Devitt might have
looked like. As what her eyes told her, the woman must have been among the most
sought-after ladies during her time for her brother was definitely a handsome one.
Agatha felt it strange-even unbelievable-that she was sharing a carriage ride with
the very man who gave Benedict his scars. Never had Benedict told her what Cole
Devitt did, only that he had never stepped into Wickhurst after their duel.
But the past was of the past and whatever brought back Cole Devitt into Wickhurst
was none of her concern. And from his silence, she was certain Cole Devitt was
thinking the same.
"Where is he?" she asked, breaking the silence.
"Who?"
"The Vi-my uncle, Horace Brewer."
Recognition crossed Cole Devitt's face. "Ah, the man who caused all this havoc, you
say? The man is not with us if that is what you are asking. He merely told us of
the story I would rather classify as a gossip, but it was not him who urged us to
take you."
Agatha's jaw tightened. "If you came to such conclusion about him, why are you
arresting the wrong person?"
"The town has spoken, Miss Blair. We are but mere servants of the law and it is our
duty to ensure it is given to both sinner and innocent. Arresting you does not mean
you are guilty. However, it may also mean you are. No one is spared by the law."
"Those who believe I am a witch will think otherwise. Your action merely assures
society they were correct."
Cole Devitt broke into a smile. "Then I suggest you prove them wrong, Miss Blair.
Your trial shall commence immediately. I highly recommend that you bring the best
you can and if you are proven innocent, you can go back to the Everards."
"How will I be judged when I already was? You believed a man who arrived from
nowhere simply because he is a vicar. How am I to trust your judgment when it is
that frail?"
Devitt's brows cocked high, his eyes filling with amusement. "I see why Everard
would choose a woman such as you. You are wise and you are not afraid to show it."
Agatha did not comment and chose to remain silent. She looked out the darkness
outside the carriage window, praying that it would end soon.
*****
It was Margaret who insisted to ride to Willowfair and talk to the Haverstons.
Benedict wanted to go with her, but he could not bring himself to leave Wickhurst
while Agatha was being held in prison. Levi went with their sister in his stead.
No one would allow Benedict entry into the prison. It took Nicholas, Maxwell and
Ralph to stop him from causing himself harm and eventually landing himself into one
of the prison cells himself, a matter his brothers said would be foolish.
He demanded to see Cole Devitt, but the man was too busy to even face his former
friend. For two days, Benedict and his brothers would come home from the prison
with naught but disappointment and anger. It had been two bloody days and no news
of a trial was set. Two bloody long days and the Herald had already reported
Agatha's arrest as though she had already been convicted.
On the third day, Margaret and Levi arrived on horseback and they were not with
merely just the two Haverstons Agatha asked for-they were with Adrien Haverston as
well.
"Agatha has been part of our family for years before she came here," Adrien
explained his presence. "And my wife would kill me if I do not come and see for
myself that Agatha's name is cleared. In fact, she demanded that I stay here long
after the trial is over."
"You are welcome to stay in the manor as long as you like," Lady Alice said.
Benedict turned to the three Haverston brothers. "I honestly do not ken why Agatha
would find a need to ask for Calan as well," he said, addressing the eldest of the
brothers.
"Oh, believe me, Everard, when I say that Calan will be enough," Adrien said.
Calan turned to Margaret and asked Lady Alice, "If you may accept my apologies, my
lady, I wish to talk to your son about sensitive matters."
"Well, of course! I shall excuse myself. I must oversee lunch. Levi, go make
certain that the twins are not pressing their ears outside the doors." Lady Alice
came to her feet and said to her daughter, "Come, Margaret, let us leave the men
alone." Levi fixed Benedict a knowing look, threw Margaret another, before walking
to the door.
"Lady Margaret can stay," Calan said, adding an awkward smile toward Lady Alice.
Levi was already walking out the door while their mother's face flushed. "Yes, of
course. You are all staying here, my lords, yes?"
"Yes, my lady, if it is not so much a bother," McKenzie said with a slight bow.
"For what you are doing for Agatha, you can stay as long as you like." Lady Alice
walked out of the study and firmly shut the door, leaving the Haverstons, Benedict
and Margaret alone.
Benedict was already frowning at his sister. His eyes traveled from Margaret to
Calan Haverston. And even before anyone spoke the truth, he knew what it was.
"You're a member of the League of Founders."
"He is my mentor," Margaret admitted.
Benedict's jaw tightened. He never approved of Margaret joining the League three
years past, but he was not one who would stop any of his siblings from getting
something they wanted. He and his brothers were the only ones privy to her secret.
The twins were too young to understand and their mother might die in shock if she
learned that her eldest daughter was part of the secret society. But it was what
Margaret wanted and after how she had been after his fight with Cole Devitt,
allowing her to be a Leaguer was simply one of his ways to help mend her pain, for
what he had wrought upon his sister's fate was among his unforgivable deeds.
"You never told me your mentor's name," he said to Margaret.
"You know we cannot," she said with a wave of her hand. "Lord Easton has spoken to
some of the members of the League, as well as the Town Guards while we were in
Willowfair."
McKenzie Haverston stepped forward with a piece of paper. "This is an order for
Agatha's release."
Relief flooded Benedict but it soon faded away as he looked at the faces of the
four people before him. He waited for anyone to explain.
"It is simply an order to release her, but the League refuses to address the matter
of the accusations thrown at her," Margaret said. "She can go out of prison for
now, but the trial might still resume should the Men of Courts find sufficient
grounds to do so."
"They don't have enough-"
"I suggest we do the fight in court and in the presence of the Men of Courts
themselves instead between ourselves," said McKenzie. "And while Agatha is safely
back here, my men and I will investigate the matter in Kaylock and Wickhurst."
"Mary has acquired help from her connections, experts who could give light to the
accusations against Agatha, and they are willing to help should their testimonies
be needed in a trial."
"Yet a trial cannot commence if we can convince the Men of Courts that the
accusations are but mere speculations and gossips," added Calan. "We ought to move
fast if we wish for a trial to not happen."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Margaret asked, already walking to the door. "We
must to go this very moment. It is also highly important that we present the letter
to the court."
"Margaret," Benedict called as he walked toward his sister. "I must tell you
something."
"What is it?" her sister asked, her green eyes curious.
"Cole Devitt is back and-"
"-he is leading the Courts," she finished for him. A flicker of annoyance crossed
her eyes. "Oh for God's sake Benedict, I am a member of the League of Founders,"
she hissed, "I know who comes in and out of Wickhurst."
"You know he was reassigned?"
"Of course. And I do not bloody care." She reached for the door. "Now, go and get
Agatha!"
******
Agatha was sitting in a cell given to her. If she had not prepared her mind for the
worst, she might have already gone insane. The noise from the other cells and the
smell of the place were the worst she had experienced.
It had been three days since she was taken from the manor and since then, no
information was given to her. Willowfair was three days away from Wickhurst, but if
Benedict had hurried he could have shortened the trip by riding on horseback and
must be back by the morrow.
But what if the Haverstons did not wish to have anything to do with her? They have
been peacefully living their lives after Belinda's problems. They deserved a quiet
life now.
They will come for you, she chanted repeatedly whenever doubt would cross her mind.
She was sitting on the tattered mattress in one corner of the dark cell, leaning
her head against the filthy wall, staring at the darkness on the ceiling. She
hugged her knees closer, fighting back tears. There was no use crying with the
other prisoners, she thought.
"You are right where you ought to be," said the familiar voice.
Agatha's head snapped toward the bars to see the Vicar standing behind it, his face
filled with contentment. "Soon, you will face the consequences of your actions and
I will demand for the Courts to have you face your punishment in Kaylock. The
villagers deserve to witness your fall."
She could not form the right words to throw at the man who was responsible for all
of this. In fact, she was suddenly filled with so much fury that any word would
fall insufficient. Tears flooded her eyes for the rage was too raw to control.
He was clad in his usual black robe and collar. His very presence outside her cell
could very well be him giving her his prayers for the afterlife.
"The sinner will always find his own path to salvation, child. Do not fret for your
soul shall be cleansed after your death. You ought to feel remorse now and repent
for your sins before you face the Lord for He is forgiving, and a repentant soul-"
"Save your sermons for the other prisoners," another voice that had filled her
nights roared behind the Vicar. Agatha jumped to her feet, tears streaming down her
face. They blurred Benedict's form as she ran toward the bars.
"Benedict," she sobbed. His hands reached inside and cupped her face. "He's taking
me to Kaylock. Do not let him, please. I do not wish to go back there."
"No one is taking you anywhere but home," he whispered in haste, close to her face.
"You are to be freed."
She blinked. "I am?"
"Yes, Blair," he said, pressing his lips through the gap of the bars to plant his
lips against her forehead. "You are coming home with me."
"They came?"
"As soon as they could," he said, nodding his head.
"She is a prisoner and you cannot-" the vicar started but Benedict swiftly let
Agatha go and whirled around to throw a blow against the old man's face.
"Oh, bloody hell, Everard, what did you do?" McKenzie's voice asked as he strode
toward them with the prison guard behind him.
"I have been meaning to greet the man with my fist for the longest time since the
moment I wished for us to meet," Benedict gritted through his teeth, staring at the
vicar who cowered away from him, cupping his bleeding nose.
"He punched me!" the vicar cried at the prison guard.
"And I will do the same to you if you do not walk over here and release my
fiancée!" Benedict roared at the guard holding the keys.
"Do it," McKenzie ordered the man who walked past the bleeding vicar and toward
Agatha's cell. Her heart was pounding against her chest in anticipation as the man
worked with the keys.
"What the bloody hell is wrong with your keys?" Benedict demanded.
"I have to find the right one, my lord," said the guard, his hands already shaking.
"You are as bloody useless as my valet," Benedict uttered, to which Agatha said,
"He is merely doing the task you demanded for, Benedict."
"But he is doing it in such a manner not-"
"Everard, your battle is not with every man in this institution," McKenzie said and
the cell was finally opened, the guard stepping aside to let Agatha pass.
She rushed toward Benedict who wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in
her hair. She knew she smelled like the prison cell she had been at, yet he smelled
her like he was breathing life itself.
"Thank you," Benedict said to the guard after a moment and without a word to the
vicar who was muffling his protests through his blood-stained hand, he pulled
Agatha out of the prison. In merely a few minutes, they were riding back home.
*****
Not an hour after she was rushed back into the arms of the Everards, three Men of
Courts bounded into the manor.
"Not again!" Ysabella groaned after the butler announced the arrival.
"Have they mistaken our estate to the court? They seem to have grown fond of our
driveway," Emma added with derision.
"Show them in," Margaret ordered Jefferson. The entire Everard family was inside
the parlor with the Haverstons.
"Ysabella, Emma, go to your chambers," Lady Alice ordered while she held Agatha's
hand.
"Everyone can stay," Benedict calmly said. He was standing in the middle of the
room, ready for battle. The three Haverstons were sitting comfortably in one corner
while the rest of the Everard brothers were standing behind the chair Agatha
occupied. Margaret had come to her feet to stand beside Benedict.
It was then that Cole Devitt entered the parlor with two of his men.

XXXII. Before the Trial

Agatha motioned to stand but Levi firmly placed his hand on her shoulder to stop
her. The twins stood to one side, their faces confused, frustrated and determined.
Lady Alice was calmly sitting in her chair, confidence in her face. The three
Haverstons stepped forward.

Everyone was ready to fight this battle for her and it brought tears to her eyes.
Never had she thought a day such as this would ever come to her.
Cole Devitt, as he stepped into the parlor with Jefferson and Silas behind them,
had a startled look on his face when he noted the crowd inside the room. And then
his eyes landed on Margaret and stayed there for quite a long moment. Margaret
stood unmoving in her spot beside Benedict who spoke, "What do you want, Cole?"
Devitt tore his eyes from Margaret and scanned the entire room. His brows twitched
the moment he recognized the Haverstons. Agatha realized he was even more handsome
under the light. His lips formed a tight smile. "I should have known the Everards
would call for support."
"The Men of Courts are not permitted, in any way whatsoever, to solely take a
person in," Calan Haverston uttered, his voice calm and his gaze intent.
"It is only with the Town Guards, and the Town Guards alone, could it be done,"
McKenzie Haverston added.
"If you came here to take Agatha back, you will have to fight your way through us,"
said Benedict, eyeing his former friend strongly.
"We received order from the higher court and merely did as we were told," Cole
Devitt said, his gaze at Benedict.
"And they, too, shall face a series of questioning for their actions," answered
Calan Haverston.
"My lords," said the old, small man beside Cole Devitt. Agatha realized everyone
had intentionally ignored introductions. "The Men of Courts are entitled to take
anyone they deem necessary, so long as it is within the law. Miss Blair was taken
not by force, but-"
"Oh, but she was taken by force!" Ysabella cried out.
"We cried when she was taken and forced out of the house," Emma added.
"No such thing happened, my lady," Cole Devitt said, his eyes hovering toward the
twins. "And I do not remember you were there when we took her."
Agatha saw Benedict throw the twins a look before they both stepped back and shut
their mouth.
"The law, my lord," Margaret spoke for the first time, "clearly states that the Men
of Courts can, and only can, take an individual accused of a crime with the
presence of a Town Guard. Anyone present that night must know no such Guard was
there."
Cole's eyes returned to Margaret. And stayed there for yet another long moment.
"A trial shall commence in a few days," said the other man beside Devitt. "Miss
Blair must come back under our care until a decision is made."
"The decision, my lords, is in my hands," Calan Haverston said, walking closer to
the three Men of Courts. He was holding a piece of paper in his hand. "This is an
order from the higher court, accepting the wrongful arrest of Miss Blair,
nullifying any case already presented by your court."
Disbelief flashed across Cole Devitt and his men.
"The procedure shall have to start from the beginning," McKenzie said, "for it is
quite certain that the grounds against Miss Blair were naught but speculations
without actual, physical proof. A group of Town Guards were given orders to
investigate the deaths in Kaylock as well as the alleged sickness spreading across
Wickhurst, a matter your division has neglected to do. I shall not be leading the
case because of my connection with Miss Blair, but I do assure you, my lords, that
I will be staying to make certain that the investigation is handled lawfully. I
will not appreciate, as well as the League, should another man make a move to skip
the process and proceed to an execution. We shall all follow the law."
"Miss Blair cannot be taken in due to insufficient proof," Calan added. "But we
assure you she shall stay here in the manor until the trial with no attempt of
escape."
Cole Devitt's jaw tightened as he took the parchment from Calan. His gaze went from
Haverstons to Everards. "Very well, we will not contradict the decision of the
higher court."
The lords who came with Devitt started to protest, their faces red with anger and
shame. "But-"
"Some of us have decided to go and demand something from the higher court and I am
greatly disappointed it had passed my notice and judgment," Cole Devitt
interjected. "I would be very much willing to follow the law and I shall ensure
everyone under me will do the same. I will be handling this case personally. Be
assured that Miss Blair will have a fair trial should the conclusion of the
investigation require one." He looked around the room before he added, "But I do
hope that everyone shall respect my opinion that using your connections to help
Miss Blair will also be met with derision on my part. The law is fair to those who
are."
"We play fair, Devitt," Benedict uttered, "but we cannot simply remain without a
fight when the battle is against society itself. We are a family, after all."
Cole Devitt merely nodded, his eyes as expressionless as ever. "I know for certain
that the Everards are, my lord. You never let one of your own go on a battle
alone." His eyes went to Benedict's brothers standing behind Agatha before they
landed on Margaret. Something flashed in his eyes before he resumed his blank mien.
If she were not in the same situation she was now, Agatha would have praised the
man for his fair mind. But that was yet to be determined as well, considering the
ugly past he shared with Benedict.
If Cole Devitt was indeed fair, it was yet to be seen.
"We shall be going and begin our own investigations," he said, giving the room a
bow before he stiffly turned and walked out the parlor door.
*****
"Oh dear Lord," Lady Alice gasped the moment Silas and Jefferson closed the door.
"Oh, God, I thought I was about to faint."
"He was not as bad as I imagined him to be," Emma commented while Margaret went to
comfort Lady Alice.
"Silas said he was rather mean," Ysabella added.
"He is a bastard, that's what he is," Ralph addressed them. "I meant Devitt, not
Silas."
"You do not know the man for you to say such things, Ralph," Margaret snapped over
her shoulder. "I suggest we all retire, especially you, Agatha. You will need a
long rest. I heard prison is a horrible place."
Benedict turned to face Agatha. He took her hand and pulled her out of the chair.
"Margaret is right, Blair," he gently whispered. "Rest."
"But I want to join the planning and-"
"Let us handle it," Adrien Haverston spoke. "Do take a long rest. We do not want an
ugly bride," he added in jest.
"Come, Agatha," Ysabella said, taking her hand form Benedict's. "We ought to tell
you what you must say to the Men of Courts should a trial ensue."
"No, you are not," Nicholas said after the twins as they led Agatha out of the
parlor. "Emma! Ysabella!"
"Oh, let them be! Agatha knows what to do with those two," Agatha heard Lady Alice
say before the twins filled her in with the details of what happened while she was
gone.
*****
Benedict was waiting for news from the Guards who investigated the deaths in
Kaylock. With him were Margaret and the three Haverstons who had stayed in the
manor. The anticipation had made him restless and if it were not for the constant
distractions made by the twins and their fat, old cat, Mrs. Beagle, he would have
already gone insane.
There were talks of Wickhurst getting angry over the decision of the Men of Courts
to let Agatha Blair loose. Cole Devitt was among their favorites to spite, but the
man was relentless and could not be swayed. He issued a statement through the Town
Herald, claiming that Agatha Blair was innocent until proven guilty and that the
Men of Courts, along with the Town Guards, were investigating the matter as the law
required it.
But society would always remain the same. They stuck to their truths with great
pride. The Everards remained confined in their own home, now an obvious enemy of
the ton.
He had considered many times how it would be easier to simply take Agatha away and
disappear into the darkest corners of the Town. Once, he asked Calan Haverston
whether or not it was true that a few people from the Town had actually managed to
escape aboveground.
"Where have you heard the story?" asked Calan, his tone calm without sign of
whether his question was true or not.
"I know people who know people. And no, Margaret has refused to talk about it," he
answered.
Calan Haverston merely sighed. "The topic is too shadowed by gossip for a Leaguer
to even discuss, Everard."
"The topic is actually appealing at this moment."
"If it were true, and if one can really go aboveground, it will not solve your
problem. It is far better to stay and face this. Should you go aboveground, you
will be leaving behind your family and you cannot do that."
Haverston was speaking the truth. For as much as he loved Agatha and wanted her to
be free of everything thrown at her, he also loved his family. The thought of
leaving them was preposterous at best.
That was the end of any discussion pertaining aboveground for the battle was below
here and there was no escaping it.
Three days later, however, things made a turn for the better.
Lady Frances Highmore climbed out of bed well and healthy.
*****
The news shocked the entire town of Wickhurst, but it did not make things better
for Agatha and the Everards.
Now that Frances Highmore is said to be well and healthy, people started to believe
it was because Agatha Blair, the witch, had decided she would be set free and
considered innocent should she take back whatever spell she had casted.
To the great disappointment of the Everards, Calan Haverston and Margaret said that
witchcraft, however no longer commonly considered a heavy one, was still a crime
under the old law of the Town. And so long as the people demanded that Agatha be
sent to trial, it must be considered.
"If Lady Frances tell everyone that she was not cursed by Agatha, people will
believe her," Ysabella said.
"Then she must! We must talk to her and threaten her with-" Emma said, but Margaret
stopped her by saying, "No threats, Emma, dear."
Lady Alice had been sitting quietly in one corner, looking out the window while her
daughters argued about what to do next. Without a word, she went to her feet and
with a determined look, announced what she planned to do.
Agatha was with Benedict in the garden when the twins rushed to find them and
announce that their mother had ordered for the carriage and was now on her way to
the Highmores.
They ran with the couple to the entry hall. "We have ordered your carriage be
brought around, Benedict," they told their brother.
Margaret was by the door, anxiously waiting. "She has gone insane, I tell you,
Benedict. Mother has gone insane. She went to the Highmores alone!"
Benedict took a deep breath and said to his sister, "You all stay here. I'll go and
fetch Mother."
"But we cannot let you go alone!" Emma and Ysabella cried out.
"I am going," Agatha said, already stepping down the stairs to the awaiting
carriage.
Before Benedict knew it, Margaret, Ysabella and Emma were following close behind,
leaving him alone by the entryway.
"What is happening?" Levi asked, emerging from the parlor with the Haverstons and
the rest of the brothers.
"Every female in this household has gone insane!" Benedict cried out before he
bounded down the stairs to climb into the carriage.
*****
"No one is climbing down this bloody carriage," he strongly ordered the women.
They had reached the Highmore estate not five minutes past and since then, he had
not been able to climb down without the four women insisting to come along. Their
mother's carriage was parked nearby and was probably alone inside the estate with
the Highmores eating her alive.
"You cannot stop us, Ben. She is our mother!" Margaret insisted and turned to the
twins. "The two of you, stay here with Agatha while Ben and I go inside."
"Why should we?"
"Because you are too young to understand everything-"
"We may act foolishly most of the time, Margaret, but we are not that young,"
Ysabella snapped. "We understand full well that this is the best time we must climb
down and find our mother."
"And the best time we finally tell the Highmores that enough is enough," Emma
added.
"I believe the girls are right, Margaret," Agatha calmly said, turning to the
frustrated Benedict. "Let us go with you, Benedict. We are not here to cause havoc.
We simply want to make certain your mother is not alone with them. She is doing
this for us, after all and I will not let that family hurt her in any way
whatsoever."
Benedict raked his hair with his fingers and growled something incomprehensible
before he pushed the door open and climbed down. It was a yes.
The four women strutted behind him, ascending the stairs to the main doorway of the
Highmore estate. The butler answered the door and it was apparent he had been
anticipating their arrival. That did not mean, however, that they were permitted to
come inside.
"We are here for our mother," Ysabella said to the butler. "She is inside, we
believe."
"And she is coming out in a minute, my lord" the butler snapped, blocking the
doorway.
"Push your way in, Ben," Emma whispered behind Benedict.
"No, we are not using force, Emma," Margaret hissed.
"But Mother can be there and she may be helpless!" hissed back Ysabella.
"We merely wish to speak to our mother and take her away from here," Benedict told
the butler, ignoring the growing hissing behind him.
The butler's eyes were on Agatha. "I cannot permit a witch inside the-"
"Force, it is," Benedict growled as he pushed the butler aside and, taking Agatha
by the hand, strode into the hallway.
"I told you," Emma said to Margaret as the four of them followed Benedict inside,
the butler crying at the top of his lungs for them to stop this instant.
The parlor door opened and Lady Alice walked out with a satisfied smile on her face
before it turned into a frown when she saw her children and Agatha crowded in the
middle of the hallway. "What are you all children doing here?"
No one answered for at that same moment Lady Frances Highmore emerged from the
parlor with her parents and Doctor Johannes. Benedict pulled Agatha to stand behind
him.
"There is no need for such manner, Benedict," Lady Alice said with a wave of her
hand. "I have talked with the Highmores and all agree that the matter surrounding
Agatha's predicament has by far been exaggerated." She turned her head slightly to
the direction where Doctor Johannes was standing. "And the good doctor, who
happened to be here when I barged in, has shared how he managed to cure Lady
Frances."
Doctor Johannes looked on at Agatha and bowed. "My apologies, Miss Blair. I felt I
needed to tell them."
"Tell what?" demanded Benedict.
Agatha swallowed. She stared at the doctor, at Frances Highmore's pale yet
unreadable face, at Lord and Lady Highmore's haughty expressions, and said, "I
advised Doctor Johannes to seek help from a doctor in Whipleton, a village who
suffered the same sickness that had the symptoms Lady Frances showed."
Benedict whirled around to face her. "You did what? Blair, you could have-"
"It was an advice given for me to take or not, my lord. I believe Miss Blair wanted
nothing more than lend a hand," Doctor Johannes said.
"You could have told me," he said to her under his breath.
"I know, my lord. I should have, but I was not certain the doctor would take heed
of my suggestion."
Benedict sighed and squeezed her hand, telling her he was a bit irked she kept him
in the dark but that he understood. Facing the Highmores once more, he stated,
"Will this help with her case? Will you," he looked at Frances in the eyes, "help
clear her name?"
"Of course, she will!" Lady Alice answered for Frances. She walked toward her
family, saying, "Lord and Lady Highmore have offered to aid in the matter. They
shall talk with the Herald this very afternoon. Doctor Johannes is ready to give
his statement, having called for the kind doctor from Whipleton as well. Both of
them shall educate the ton of Wickhurst that witchcraft is but a thing of the
past."
"Doctor Hyem of Whipleton has also offered his help in giving light to what may
have happened in Kaylock that many years ago. He and some of his colleagues believe
that it was merely a case of winter flu with a different aggressive microbe. The
difference, in this case, is the fact that it was highly contagious in nature. The
same case has happened to another town, we believe, but a cure is yet to be
developed. Kaylock was wrong to not have asked assistance from other towns and even
more so when they blamed innocents for what they could not solve."
Benedict looked at the doctor and gratefully said, "I will forever be in your debt
should you repeat those words in the Herald, Doctor Johannes."
"Us, too," said Ysabella.
"You truly are wise, Doctor Johannes," Emma praised.
"Now," Lady Alice said, turning to the Highmores who chose to stay silent
throughout the entire exchange, "we trust that you will hold your end of the
bargain."
Lord Highmore nodded with a grunt while his wife merely looked away. Frances, on
the other hand, said, "I hope this will be the last any of the Everards will find a
need to step into our home."
"If you do your part, you can be certain of it, Lady Frances," Margaret replied.
Lady Alice lifted her head with a satisfied smile and led her children and Agatha
out of the estate. "Oh, and do not forget to mention your gratefulness toward my
future daughter-in-law," she added over her shoulder before passing through the
doorway.
*****
McKenzie and Calan Haverston went to talk to the Men of Courts after the Guards
from Kaylock had returned with the result of their investigation. Doctor Johannes
and Hyem had promised to appear by the morrow to give their statements. Adrien
Haverston decided to stay in the manor, claiming the task given him by Mary was to
guard Agatha, not be a part of the investigation.
The Everards were finally able to celebrate with a huge feast for dinner. It seemed
that someone had flicked his finger and everything went back to how they were
before the scandal began. The only difference now, Agatha thought, was that she was
now a part of it.
"Mother," Benedict said to their mother from his end of the table, "You said you
made a bargain with the Highmores. Would you care to share?"
Lady Alice smiled at her son as the rest of her children turned their heads in
anticipation, their faces expectant. Adrien Haverston continued eating, but Agatha
was certain his ears were listening.
"The beauty of bargains lies with the threat you throw."
"Threat?" Margaret gasped.
"The right amount, dear," Lady Alice said, her lips forming a secretive smile. "Let
us simply say I suggested an idea of them losing one of their newly acquired
estates along with a horrible gossip about a lady wrongfully accusing a governess
of stealing a ruby necklace. Wickhurst must have forgotten that little detail after
the scandal Benedict has caused."
"You're a genius, Mother!" Emma giggled with excitement. "Truly, you are!"
"And I must say we have solved all our worries after this one. People are likely to
be more sympathetic toward Agatha for having suffered such terrible fate in
Kaylock-sorry for how it may sound, dear, but it is true-and what they have done
her here in Wickhurst. To repay for their wrongdoings, they will reluctantly accept
her in society. Did I not tell you that society will never accept the truth until
it is shoved down their throats, until they will be forced to spit it out
themselves?"
"You are indeed a wise woman, Lady Alice," Adrien Haverston said, lifting his wine
and adding, "to Lady Alice."
"To Lady Alice!" everyone cried, raising their own glasses while the lady of the
manor tried to hide the flush on her face.
*****
McKenzie and Calan Haverston delivered the good news.
With the Highmores giving details of Frances' recovery and Doctor Johannes'
statements of how he was successful, the Men of Courts were forced to close the
case before a trial was ensued.
Benedict could merely care less what the rest of Wickhurst thought so long as
Agatha's name was cleared. However, he had to ask Jefferson to talk to the servants
who may have strong opinions on the matter for he will not allow a single one of
them to serve Agatha thinking she was a witch.
As to the Vicar, the man had disappeared. Mayhap he returned to Kaylock, mayhap he
did not and was waiting for the right moment to attack once more. But McKenzie
Haverston had made certain that the Town Guards cleared all matters in Kaylock and
left the village with a different understanding of what had happened, and what they
had done to Agatha's family many years past.
Agatha had made it clear, should Kaylock decide to welcome her without intention of
killing her, that she shall never set foot in that place again. She constantly
prayed for the souls of her grandmother and her sisters, and they shall forever be
in her heart. They were no longer in Kaylock, but wherever she may be.
Cole Devitt signed the necessary papers, clearing Agatha Blair of any accusation.
He also stated in one of the articles on the Herald that the town of Wickhurst
ought to learn from the past events, reminding the ton that anyone could be an
Agatha Blair against a vile society and that all ought to be careful with their
words, and more importantly, what they chose to believe.
None of the Everards had heard from the man himself. There were no more visits, no
other confrontations of any kind. It was as though Cole Devitt had disappeared once
more despite the fact that he was residing in town.
Agatha wondered if Margaret's frequent blank looks had anything to do with Cole
Devitt being in Wickhurst. Even a fool would know that Margaret and Cole Devitt
shared a past that was beyond casual familiarity. Mayhap Lady Alice knew, and so
did Benedict. But it was certain no one was willing to talk about it.
As for the Haverstons, they had decided to go back to Willowfair to fetch the rest
of their families for the wedding in Wickhurst. Adrien Haverston had said that no
wedding shall commence if no Haverston was present. The Everards were merely glad
to comply.
*****
Benedict and Agatha were allowed by their guards, namely the twins, a few moments
to be alone.
Ysabella had said, "Well, whatever the two of you decide to do tonight, I am
certain the child shall come out without rousing gossip, considering the wedding is
in three days' time. They do count the months, not the days, I believe," making
Benedict scowl.
They sat in silence in the garden, relishing a night filled with naught but
excitement for the wedding.
So much had come to pass that Agatha had not gone tired of expressing her
disbelief.
"You will someday come to realize that you are not living a dream, Blair," he said
against her hair as she rested her head on his shoulder. "And mayhap I will come to
believe I am living it, although I believe I am starting to."
Agatha leaned away to stare at her beast. She need not know what he looked like
before his scars, nor did she wish to know more of his past than what she already
knew. He was her future and nothing could change that as much as nothing could
change the past.
"I have thought of taking you aboveground," he admitted laughingly.
"It is possible," she said.
He stared at her, dumbfounded. "You also believe the gossip? That there are
passages out of the Town?"
Agatha considered her next words. "Promise me you will not repeat my words."
"I promise," he said instantly, his expression eager as a boy. She smiled.
"I worked in the Mary House for some time and I have heard stories among the
members of the club. How do you think I knew of Calan Haverston being a Leaguer?
The League holds their small assemblies in the private rooms of the club. You will
be greatly amazed by how much you could hear through the walls."
His eyes widened. "So it is true. There are passages."
"Of course. How do you ken the Founders arrived down here? But they are guarded by
Passage Guards."
"And it is true there have been people who came aboveground?"
Agatha nodded. "Quite a few, as a matter of fact," she replied with a smile. "So
you see, we could have made it aboveground should you have chosen to run away with
me."
He let out a throaty chuckle. "The twins would love that story even more, will they
not?"
Agatha sighed. "I believe they will."
Benedict's eyes lit up as an idea came to mind. "I have this mischievous plan
against the twins."
Agatha narrowed her eyes. "Against the twins?" Benedict nodded. "What mischievous
plan?"
He smiled. She loved how he could think of mischievous things now. "I will tell you
after we are wed."
"I do not think it is wise to go against the twins, Benedict. Look how Ralph
suffers most of the time."
Her beast simply smiled. "This is my revenge for them having planned to match you
with the doctor. Let me at least do it just once."
"You do it, but I am having no part in it. And Doctor Johannes is a good man."
"That is why I am taking my revenge on the twins." He planted a quick kiss on her
lips. "You will thoroughly enjoy it."
Agatha highly doubted that.

XXXIII. Bewitched
"Well, it is coming to an end," Violet said to her sister. "The Town sure sounds
like a Victorian wannabe kind of place what with all their societal rules and all
that shit."

"Can you just keep reading? Save your comments in the end?" Valerie snapped,
snatching the book from Violet. "I like it though. My kind of stories, really."
Violet snorted. "Not trying to sound pessimistic, Val, but this sort of story does
not ring so well for me. It does, however, make me curious. Who wrote this?"
Valerie knew her sister would not stop her questions unless they found out the
answer. And she for one was also curious as to who penned the story and the others
inside the chest. She stood from the bed where they had been reading while the
storm continued to brew outside the cabin.
Walking toward the chest filled with the same leather-bound books she held in her
hand, Valerie rummaged through it, piling all of the contents outside the chest
until she reached the bottom where a book far different from the others lay.
"I got something," she uttered with excitement and Violet jumped from the bed to
join her.
"Another book?"
"It's different," Valerie said, taking the book in one hand. It looked vaguely
familiar and the materials looked like the usual ones one would find in the
scrapbooking section of a local bookstore.
"Well, that looks new."
"Because it is from here, I guess. I mean, our time and not that of the Town's."
"Then open it," Violet urged, taking the other book from her hand.
Valerie opened to the first page and both their eyes scanned the page. "F.T.,"
Valerie read.
"I knew it!" Violet cried with triumph. "It is grandma's! Okay, now I am gonna read
everything. Like, everything, Val. And the moment we get out of here, we should do
our own research."
Valerie frowned, searching for any possible candidate among their family, anyone
who had the same initials. She turned the first page of the book and realized it
was another story.
"Save that for last, Val. Let's finish the rest before that one," Violet said,
walking to the bed.
Her sister was right. The initials could not be anyone else's but their
grandmother's. "F.T.," she muttered under her breath before she closed the book and
returned it inside the best to read later after the rest. "Fiona Trilby."
*****
As predicted by Lady Alice, the entire Wickhurst suddenly grew remorseful.
Not that they showed it, really. They simply started to reluctantly accept Agatha
into society, sending the entire Everards invitations to the balls around the town.
That was the extent of their remorse, and although Benedict was not so fond of
society, he knew it made things easier for him and Agatha.
Now, they no longer had to fear for the future of the twins, or even Margaret. The
Everards were once more a part of society.
Benedict had insisted that the wedding be only attended by their closest of friends
and the service people who had been loyal to the family, but Lady Alice claimed
that to push the rest of Wickhurst away when the scandal was still fresh would be
met with yet another attack.
As much as he hated to see the many lords and ladies who had scratched the Everards
off their list of ball guest weeks ago, he had to agree with his mother's
suggestion. Agatha, on the other hand, was rather more considerate, almost
grateful, and that somehow eased Benedict's ire.
The twins were excitedly waiting in the front rows of the church, loving the look
of their brother as he anxiously waited for his bride to arrive. The Haverstons
were seated behind them, the wives trying to calm their restless children who were
about to cause havoc if the wedding would not start soon.
It was then that Agatha came out and walked down the aisle, radiant and beautiful
in a large, white gown. The twins jumped to their feet along with everyone else.
Lady Alice was already in tears and the twins could not help but look from Agatha's
smiling and glowing face to Benedict's scarred one, his eyes filled with so much
joy they had never seen before.
Ysabella grabbed her sister's hand and squeezed tight. Their eyes filled with tears
of happiness. It was that same feeling they witnessed in the many couples they had
both helped and the same feeling they felt at that moment that reminded them why
they had done the foolish things they did.
Love conquering all was a dream for many, but for Ysabella and Emma it was a
possibility of reality. No one ought to be deprived of the love many people Ralph
had termed as their victims found with their help.
Both of them were sniffing in tears along with Mary Haverston sitting behind them
as Agatha finally reached Benedict. Their brother took his bride's hand in his. The
twins had been to many weddings, yet this was one of the very few they attended
that was filled with so much love and happiness.
Everyone sat down as Benedict Harold Morgan Everard and Agatha Blair faced the
vicar and professed their love.
Ysabella looked around, ignoring the flat faces of those they were forced to
invite, keeping in memory the look of those who were genuinely happy to be among
the guests.
"Why is Levi paying too much attention on Tori?" whispered Ysabella to Emma.
Emma followed her gaze to where Levi was sitting beside Tori and Margaret. "I have
not failed to notice the way he seems to not tear himself away from Tori as well."
Emma turned and locked her eyes with Ysabella. A smile slowly crept up their faces
and both leaned back against their seats with a satisfied and excited glimmer in
their eyes.
*****
Agatha could not stop the racing of her heart. She had been married to Benedict for
two days now and they had spent it traveling to Devonshire. Not once had he made
any move to touch her, not even when they stopped by a tavern to rest for a night.
She was certain he wanted their first night to happen in Devonshire and now that
they had arrived and finished their dinner, she could not help but be restless. She
knew very little of what happened between a woman and a man. Lady Alice had tried
to talk to her but her new mother merely said that it was one she ought to enjoy
doing, adding that everything that would happen would come naturally and she would
know what to do.
Honestly, Agatha doubted her mother-in-law.
She was used to reading and learning things from books. Mayhap she ought to have
taken Lady Cressida's offer to talk to her about such things. What she had read
from books were too scientific in nature that she found them hard to even imagine.
The many nights of passionate kisses she spent with Benedict may not be enough to
guide her tonight, she thought, as she changed into her nightdress and brushed her
hair.
The door opened and Benedict appeared, wearing his robe.
"I do not know what to do," she admitted before he even took a step forward. She
stood to her feet and faced him, her eyes wide with concern. "I am afraid I will
disappoint you, Benedict."
Benedict chuckled and rushed toward her. Pulling her close to him, he leaned his
head back to look down at her with a smile. "You can never do anything wrong in
what we are about to do, Blair."
His hand lightly ran down her spine and she felt the same tingling sensation she
used to whenever his skin teased hers. Leaning forward, Benedict's breath brushed
over her lips as he whispered, "All you need to do is feel, wife."
Agatha closed her eyes and raised to her toes to plant her lips against Benedict,
knowing she had surprised him, yet relieved that he was pleased for he was suddenly
taking the lead, his tongue forcing her mouth to open and receive him in a kiss
very familiar to both of them.
Yet it felt different as well. She was kissing her husband now-not her master,
lover or fiancé. She was not kissing the Lord of Devonshire. She was kissing the
man she loved, the man who was willing to face society's wrath for her; the man
who, in front of his own ancestors, confessed his love for her.
Before Agatha realized it, Benedict swept her off the floor and carried her to the
bed. Every layer of reservation she may have felt earlier was stripped off with
each layer of fabric Benedict removed. When she had expected shame when she was
laid bare before him, she surprisingly did not. The desire reflected in his green
eyes told her how much her husband adored every part of her and whether it was
wrong or not, Agatha cared not that she did not care at all.
Benedict stripped off his robe and came down to cover her with his own warmth.
"You're beautiful," he whispered. He swallowed hard as her hands began to explore
every pane of his back, his shoulders and the back of his neck. His head docked to
kiss a trail from her jaw down to her neck, his hand cupping one breast, kneading
and coaxing the tip to arousal. His breath was hot against her ear. "I love every
part of you, Blair."
Agatha could barely think of a word so she uttered, "Will you ever stop calling me
Blair?"
His nibbled the lobe of her ear, his mouth wet. She could feel every part of him
pressing against her. "Everyone else will now call you Agatha, or Lady Everard, or
Lady Agatha, or Lady Devonshire. None would ever call you Blair," he rasped against
her ear, his hips purposely brushing against hers. Agatha squirmed as she felt
something coil in the pit of her stomach.
"Only you," she answered back, kissing his shoulder as his mouth descended back
down her throat and eventually claimed one breast.
Agatha writhed beneath him, her fingers running through his dark hair, guiding his
mouth to where she wanted it to be.
"Only me," he rasped, settling between her legs.
Agatha's eyes welled with tears, blurring her vision of his green ones. She closed
them as his lips returned to devour hers in a soul-shattering kiss, knowing full
well that whatever may happen after this night would never be close to anything in
her past.
As she let herself be lost in passion and desire with the man she loved, Agatha
started to realize she was not living a dream. It was the dream that found her.
*****
"I cannot believe you have not taken your words back," Agatha snapped at her
husband. His hand squeezed hers with a laugh. "You ought to tell them it was but a
mere jest, Benedict."
But her husband shook his head, chuckling. "There is no way would I ease their
minds. You can tell them, if you wish, clear the matter if you must, Blair. I am
doing no such thing."
"They sent me a missive not five days ago, inquiring if it is in fact true. I
cannot believe you told them that after the wedding. I just cannot!"
"I was not expecting they would believe me, really," Benedict admitted. "I did not
realize they are a superstitious pair."
"Well, you know Ysabella and Emma. They can both be wise and gullible in most
occasions. Why do you ken Ralph gets a chance winning in some of their squabbles?
It is not that they allow him, but he can really fool them if he opts to."
Benedict chuckled. He received a smack on his arm for it. "We have arrived," he
announced as he looked out the carriage window.
"Now, how do you suppose will I be able to explain it to them?" Agatha asked as the
carriage stopped outside the Everard estate.
"You simply don't or you simply say it is not true at all."
"And they shall make your life a living hell. They have been too afraid I actually
did it. I can imagine their worry."
Benedict opened the door and jumped down the carriage. Agatha took his hand and
allowed him to help her climb down.
"You are the only one who knew of what I did who is not in agreement to what I
did."
"Of course! Levi and Maxwell did not even consider it a serious matter. Nicholas
and Ralph thought it was funny. Margaret does not know as well as Mother. And I
tell you, Benedict, both of them shall not find it amusing as well." She climbed
the stairs ahead of him just as Jefferson opened the doors.
"My lady, welcome back," he said with a bow, and to Benedict, "Your brothers have
arrived not an hour ago, my lord."
"Where are the twins, Jefferson?" she demanded as her husband chortled behind her.
Seriously, she could no longer remember the old beast he was before they were wed
for it was apparent that an entirely new creature had surfaced inside Benedict
Everard, although Lady Alice had claimed otherwise saying it had always been there
and merely recently re-surfaced. "Do not even attempt to talk to me until dinner,"
she snapped over her shoulder, walking away in search for the twins.
"Agatha! Agatha!" Ysabella's voice said from above the stairs. Agatha skidded to a
stop and looked up to see her bounding down the stairs with Emma and their black
cat, Mrs. Beagle, behind her. "You have not replied to our letter! Did you receive
it? Is it true?"
"Do take it back, Agatha. If it is indeed true, do take it back!" Emma begged.
Agatha looked over her shoulder to find that her husband had escaped and was
nowhere to be found.
"What was the content of your missive again?" she asked, buying herself enough time
to form a proper response.
"Benedict told us that you have poured potions in one of our drinks," Ysabella
started, looking at Emma for help.
"And that it would make Ysa undesirable to men until she is seven and twenty," Emma
said.
"And Em to have an endless line of suitors," Ysabella finished, her face desperate.
"But I wish to marry my next season!"
"And I do not wish to wed at all!" Emma cried.
Agatha pursed her lips to keep from smiling. "There is no such thing," she told
them.
The paused, blinked, suddenly looking dumbfounded. "There is not?"
"Of course."
Relief washed over their faces. Agatha smiled and started to turn. "But there might
be a spell for such," she added as she ambled away, containing her laughter.
"Agatha!" the twins cried out. "You did not, did you? You did not cast a spell on
us!"
"That will depend on how you behave in the future!"
"But you are not a witch! You said so yourself!"
"Witch or no witch, who can really tell?"
"Agatha!" the twins' horrified cries followed her until tea time. Mayhap she'd
allow more time for Benedict to relish this one until the morrow.
*****
"It is not true, Ysa," Emma told her sister as they walked to the parlor. "Agatha
is no witch."
"But admit that you are quite worried."
"Well, I can have endless suitors but who ever said I must choose one and marry
one?"
Ysabella frowned, considering Emma's statement. "And I could always seduce a lord
to marry me before I am seven and twenty," she uttered.
"You see? True or not, we still can find way around it." Emma grabbed her sister's
hand and pulled her toward the parlor door. "Come, we must put up that trap for
Ralph before tea time. Did you bring the-" but she stopped just outside the door.
"What is it?" Ysabella asked.
Emma placed one finger over her lips to signal her sister for silence. "Margaret is
inside with Tori," she whispered.
Ysabella planted her ear against the door.
"-to get my inheritance," Tori was saying.
"Your stepmother wants you to marry her nephew for your inheritance?" Margaret
asked, aghast. "But she cannot do that!"
"Oh, she can," Tori said. "She can because she is my legal guardian until I am
thirty. She can and she will."
"And if you choose to marry someone else?"
"She cannot stop it. But I must find a husband before the engagement is announced.
She has not said a word to me, but I am certain it is to happen soon."
"We have to help her," Margaret uttered after a while.
The twins frowned. Was someone else in the room with them?
"I do not see how I can help," Levi's voice spoke. Ysabella and Emma's eyes
widened. "Are you suggesting I find her a husband?"
"Well, yes, of course!" Margaret retorted.
"As you may have failed to notice, Margaret, I have been absent from Wickhurst for
quite a long time."
"But your friends are still in town and most of them bachelors still. Gather them
around and find Tori a husband."
A long pause followed before Levi said, "I am sorry, Tori, but you are past the
marrying age."
"And I'd rather stay a spinster than marry my stepmother's nephew. You have seen
him around Wickhurst, Margaret. You tell your brother what he is like."
"Horrible, disgusting form of a human being," Margaret uttered with spite.
Levi let out a heavy sigh. "I shall try to help, but I cannot promise anything.
Most eligible bachelors prefer a younger wife."
"Then I shall find someone who will accept someone at eight and twenty. We do not
have to live like other couples."
"You are looking for a knight in shining armor, Tori, not a husband."
"Are they not the same?"
"No."
"Well, so be it. I am looking for a man who could take me away from my stepmother's
care before she spends all my fortune. He does not have to be wealthy. In fact, I'd
rather we find someone who is drowning in debt. My dowry alone is enough to entice
anyone."
"And yet you are unmarried," Levi stated dryly.
"Because I was not given the chance to say yes before," Tori snapped back.
"Stop the useless banter, the two of you. We ought to find a solution to your
problem, Tori. We do not have time to spend with the two of you fighting like Ralph
and the twins."
"Very well," said their brother, "if you seek a husband, we shall find you one."
Ysabella leaned away from the door, her brows cocked high as she looked at Emma.
Her sister smiled, took her hand and pulled her away from the parlor door. "Forget
about the trap. We have plans to make, Ysa. Those three do not know a single thing
about finding the perfect match."
*****
"Well? Have you had your fill of entertainment?" Agatha asked her husband hours
after the loud family dinner.
"No, not really, but I do appreciate you not telling the twins earlier."
"I shall, first thing in the morrow," she said. "And why do you say you did not
enjoy it?"
"They looked rather distracted and it was not certainly about my lie for they were
rather thrillingly excited about something else entirely. Can you not tell?"
"Well, they have been whispering to each other throughout dinner, which was not
odd, but I have not seen them since Tori left after tea. Something could have
happened between tea time and dinner."
"They are planning something. I can feel it brewing somewhere."
"Another match?"
"Lord, please, no."
Agatha looped her arm around his. "Can you not say you are not grateful they chose
us?"
"Mayhap, but they somehow also managed to make things unbearable to a point. I
cannot even say which I prefer-them making us their project or you casting a spell
on me."
She chuckled. "Have you ever wondered, even for a mere second, if I indeed
bewitched you?" she asked in a light, playful tone.
Benedict paused and turned to her with a smile. He reached to run the back of his
finger along her jaw. "Have you ever wondered if it was I who did?"
"I believe I asked first."
"That was my answer."
"Your answer?"
Benedict leaned down to plant a chaste kiss on her lips. "One would think it was I
who cast a spell on you, Blair. The beast has bewitched the beauty."
"And they lived happily ever after?"
He shrugged, his green eyes tender and mild. "All I can say is that they lived."

Author's Note
First of all, I would like to say sorry for the mistakes you may have encountered
while reading this story (and my other stories). I have always said that I don't
edit or proofread my works. Being a nurse working on different shifts do not give
me enough time to edit or proofread. I hope you understand?
Anyway, I am still at awe by the response this work has received from the readers.
I never even imagined it would gather new readers who did not read the Haverston
series. So let me thank each and everyone of you for being a part of this work! It
has been on the number spot in Historical Fiction for days now, followed by the
Haverston Family Series! I've never had four of my stories on the top-most list
ever, so YAY!
I know some of you are quite disappointed that I did not give a lot of exposure for
the Haverstons, but know that I want to focus on the Everards this time. Giving the
Haverstons too much exposure will only confuse new readers. I aim for stand-alone
works despite this being part of a series. Another is the fairy tale thing I have
promised. I did try to loosely base this story on a fairy tale but then I got
carried away and the plot changed. LOL. Oh well...
I did not plan for a lot of drama for the Everards, especially in this book. I
wanted to focus more on the family and establish them as a whole and I hope I
managed to do that with To Bewitch a Beast.
Also, I know that many of you were quite hoping for a Margaret-Cole story to be
next, but I have already planned for the next story which is that of Levi's and
Tori's. Those who want Margaret's story will have to wait for the third book
(hint!).
I will be uploading the preview of Charmer Beguiled in this work in a few days.
Anyway, I will not make this a long one for we still have seven more books to go
through anyway.
Thank you once again and see you on the next book!
From the gossip section of The Town Herald,
Greenwriter

Charmer Beguiled Preview

I. A Long Drive
"It's going to be a long day, I tell you," Violet whined as they both stared
blankly under the hood of their car. "We should have stayed in the cabin and
demanded for our friends to drop everything they are doing and get their asses down
here as they promised."
"Your friends," Valerie corrected, squinting against the sunlight. The storm had
passed and the weather was back to its summer glory.
The black-haired twins jumped back when a hissing sound came from under the hood.
"We're going to die! We're going to die!" Violet started screaming.
"Shut up!" Valerie said. They had been staring at their car for almost an hour now
with unreliable reception and no food. It was about time to give up, so Valerie
walked to the side of the road and waited.
"What are you doing?" Violet asked.
"Waiting for a kind soul."
"Kind soul. Yeah, right. You mean psychopaths who feed on young ladies stuck in the
middle of a lone road."
"I'd rather risk it than be stuck here without food. We've been stuck in grandma's
cabin long enough."
"Reading her stories and eating canned goods. I want to eat a burger," Violet said
with longing.
"I see a truck," Valerie said, jumping up and down, waving her arms over her head.
"Don't!" Violet said.
"Why not?"
"Have you not been watching the news? There are a lot of killers who-"
"You mean gray-haired couples driving a truck?"
Violet frowned as she placed her hand over her eyes. "Well, if they are a couple of
old people, I don't see why we can't ask for help."
The truck stopped. The old woman in the passenger seat rolled down her window with
a smile. "What are you two young ladies doing in the middle of the road?"
Her husband leaned over and asked, "You girls having trouble?"
"It's our car," Violet said. "We can't get a reception and-"
"It must be because of the storm," said the old woman. "There's a great stop not
far from here. If you want, we can drop you there."
Violet and Valerie jumped. They have passed by that stop on their way to the cabin
two days ago. "That would be great, thank you!"
They rushed to the back of the car and grabbed their things. Valerie carried the
other bag full of their grandmother's books.
The old woman smiled at them as they struggled to get the books inside.
"Sorry," Valerie murmured. "I'm Valerie, by the way. And this is my twin, Violet."
"Patricia and Dave at your service," the old lady offered with a smile, looking at
their bags. "It's the first to see someone on a trip with so many books."
"Oh, we did not arrive here with these books. We found them, actually," Violet
explained.
"It seems our grandmother had a perk for writing stories. She wrote them," Valerie
explained.
Patricia's smile widened. "It is interesting that young people are quite surprised
to discover their grandparents can actually do something other than being...well,
old."
"They are interesting, actually," Violet said. "And she has a memoir too, but we
are saving that for last."
Patricia looked over her shoulder. "Will it be rude if we ask about them?"
Valerie turned to look at Violet. Her twin sister shrugged.
"It is kind of a weird set of stories, really," Valerie said. "So far they all take
place in this place called The Town."
Dave looked at them through the rearview mirror, his face interested. His wife was
almost facing the twins now, her eyes eager.
"The Town is located hundreds of feet belowground," Violet continued. "They live in
our time, I guess, but they have actually managed to conserve some sort of an era-
Victorian or Edwardian? We are not sure yet, but yeah... it is a place that lives
in the past."
"That's interesting," Patricia said.
"We have read two stories so far and has just started with the third," said
Valerie.
"I like the second one better, she likes the first one," Violet added, pointing at
Valerie.
"How big is this place-The Town?" the lady asked.
"The books say it expands half of the continent," Valerie replied. "They have holes
built aboveground, such holes are protected with walls. The holes give them
ventilation, light for their crops. They also have hidden passages that lead
aboveground and such passages are guarded by the Passage Guards."
"There are a very few individuals from aboveground who knows of its existence,"
Violet interrupted. "They are men of great power-and we're assuming they are the
CIA or the presidents but we can never be certain-and have been in constant contact
with some of the men in the Town who guard the Town's secrets and ensure their
safety. These men from the Town are called the League of Founders and they are sort
of like our CIA or NSA counterpart. Until today, as the books say, the Town is a
well-kept secret, unknown to almost all aboveground."
A frown formed on Patricia's face, deepening the lines on her forehead. "Their life
belowground sounds quite boring."
"I think so, too," Violet replied. "But they do have parks and woods with holes
above them. They go there to bask in the sunlight, experience snow and rain, watch
the stars and even hear the noise we make above here. But then these are the only
things they know of our lives here. They've never seen the ocean or the mountains.
They can read them in books and all that, but yeah...life there is quite boring."
"No, not really. The stories we have read so far are quite interesting. I really
like the era they live in. It is quite intoxicating once you delve into the story,
full of scandals and all that."
"Question," Dave said, breaking his silence. "If there are passages out of the
Town, why can't they go up here and experience life as it is?"
The twins grimaced. "The passages are actually a secret to most of the townspeople-
that's what they call themselves. But there are a few who knows of their existence
and it's not as if they can just go right through the passages without getting
killed. The Founders, the ones who built the Town, made it certain that they will
forever be safe from the changes in our world. The Passage Guards are serious with
their job and their police or detectives who call themselves Town Guards will make
it impossible for anyone to even take the first step toward a passage if they ever
find one."
"Oh, well, your grandmother sure did make things difficult," Patricia said,
laughing.
"That's what we intend to ask her. Once we get to her," Valerie said, "Which we are
going to do if we ever get out of here."
"I feel bad for those who want to go out of the Town," the lady said, looking at
her husband. "I am sure it is suffocating down there."
The twins laughed. "Well, it is just a story," said Violet. "You are welcome to
read the second book," she added. "We just finished it."
"I can?" Excitement crossed the old woman's features as Violet handed her the book.
"Of course. These books deserve more than two readers."
Dave stole a look as his wife opened the first page. "Read it out loud, for God's
sake, Patricia."
The three women laughed.
And so Patricia read...
"There were still a few who still dared to dream of what it would be like to see
the ocean or feel the breeze. Some knew there was a way out of the Town, while some
had no idea at all. But they still dreamed to have a taste of something beyond what
the holes could offer.
Yet they were just dreams and there was life they had to live underground. They had
balls to go to, gowns to buy, callers to entertain, lands to cultivate, mines to
dig, estates to furnish and the list went on. The world aboveground was but a mere
illusion to the people below. It was a passing fancy that would cross a scullery
maid's mind from time to time, or fill the dreams of a poor stable boy in the
evenings. And when the lights were turned on all over The Town and the sunlight
would shine through the holes, the dreams were forgotten and life would come back
to haunt.
The Founders had laid the foundation, provided the holes and many systems to make
The Town livable and safe in the event of natural and human threats. Buildings were
erected, water was provided and bountiful, lands were cultivated and most of all,
status was maintained.
The gentries, middle class and service people alike all had but one goal: live."
"Wait, they do not have nobles? Only gentries?" asked Dave.
Patricia looked at the twins for answer.
"Well, they do have like a general title for the gentries. They call them lords and
ladies, but no specific title. It is quite confusing at first, actually," Violet
answered.
"I guess the noble titles diminished throughout the time. They have lived
underground for centuries and maybe the nobles who did come down with the Founders
married down into gentries and so the status has changed. But then, the gentries in
these stories have so much power that they can still be considered nobles minus the
title. They don't have kings and queens. They have the Leaders as a ruling body."
"Continue," Dave said to Patricia.
Patricia winked at the twins before she continued. "And they all lived according to
how the Founders envisioned centuries ago. They lived in a place frozen in time, a
time long considered by the people aboveground a history. Yes, one could say they
were history itself.
The Townspeople may be located hundreds of feet belowground, but they do have their
own fairy tales to tell-stories of love, adventures and mysteries; of handsome and
not-so-handsome lords; of beautiful and mayhap-pretty maidens. These are tales that
could be as old as time and as old as love..."