His Lady in Breeches

XXXV. Rite of Passage

"Your husband seems excited than worried, Ysabella," Maxwell dryly noted while the four of them waited across the street from where the red stone formations were located in the small village of Blucksley. Beyond the formations lay what the townspeople would call tree rocks for the stone pillars extended way up above. He had walked through similar formations in the hunting trips he spent with his brothers in the past, but those incidents could be counted in one hand. Such formations were rare. And most hid secrets.

It was no wonder that the one they were facing now hid another small village where bandits resided. And it was no wonder as well that his bloody sisters once found their way into that bandit village and made themselves new friends.

Ysabella turned her head to study her husband and she smiled. "He simply desires to see you experience Ned and Barto's rite of passage, brother."

Wakefield turned his blonde head at his wife. "I believe your friends unreservedly follow traditions, darling. I am merely happy to no longer be a part of it." He turned to Maxwell and asked, "You do know Levi went through the same thing, yes?"

Maxwell ignored his brother-in-law and turned to Maxine who had been silent since they arrived in Blucksley. He faced her as she sat on a large rock beside Ysabella. He went down to level his gaze with hers and asked, "Are you certain you do not wish to do this on the morrow? We can do so at any day you wish, Maxie."

Ysabella, sensing their conversation to be private, jumped to her feet and snatched her husband's hand, saying, "I wish to stretch my legs, darling," and dragged him away.

Maxine lifted her head and gazed at Maxwell, her pale grey eyes determined yet hesitant. "Do you reckon they can provide us with answers?"

He nodded despite the fact that he was doubtful. There were too many bandits all over the Town. Maxwell would indeed consider themselves very lucky if Ysabella's friends could point them at the right direction.

"You are lying," his wife said with a sigh, looking up ahead at the stone formations.

He scoffed and stood up straight, stretching his legs. "I am a cynic, Maxie," he said to his wife, "but I do not diffuse hope when it is due."

He heard her snort. "Of course—"

"Oi!" a loud voice boomed from across the street.

Ysabella and Wakefield whirled around a few paces away and Maxine saw his sister's face light up as she ran toward the voice. Her husband was striding fast behind her.

Maxwell looked down at his wife and offered his hand. "I believe that is the bandit language for 'move your arse'."

Maxine rolled her eyes and took his hand to pull herself up. "I believe that is the bandit language for 'trouble is coming'."

They both turned and walked across the street to join Ysabella and Wakefield. The couple was facing two young bandits, both wearing newspaper boy hats and large coats.

"'This yer brother, Ysa?" the taller of the two men said.

Ysabella nodded with a smile. "Maxwell, yes," she said. "And his wife, Maxine."

Now that he had the chance to study both men, Maxwell let out a groan. "Not only did we meet these two gentlemen on a carriage ride to Willowfair," he said, addressing his sister, "but I believe they were also in attendance at your wedding, Ysa."

The taller of the two playfully pushed the other, saying, "Didn't I tell ye he's an Everard?"

"Aye," said the other.