“You wish for me to lie to you?” Fredrick asked.
“No, I prefer honesty between us.”
“As do I.”
Emilia placed her teacup down onto the tray and asked, “How is it that you are not married?”
A flirtatious smile came to his lips. “Are you interested in the position?”
She reared back. “Good gracious, no. You have spoken of your aversion to it, but I am just curious as to how a man as handsome as you?—”
“You think I am handsome?” he interjected.
Emilia felt her cheeks flush. “Well, I mean, surely you must know…” She pressed her lips together, wishing she could just disappear. She was mortified. Why had she even brought up such a thing?
Fredrick had sympathy for her because his next words were gentle. “I am just teasing you, Emilia. I won’t get married, not because I am not able to, but because I can’t.”
“Of course you can,” she said.
His tone grew somber. “No, you don’t understand,” he replied. “I can’t. The things I have done, what I have seen. No, I am not worthy to be loved by another.”
Emilia could hear the heartache in his voice, and she knew he believed the words he was saying. But he was wrong. She was determined to find a way to convince him otherwise.
Fredrick couldn’t quite believe what he had just revealed to Emilia. What had he been thinking? He didn’t want to have this conversation with her- he couldn’t. She wouldn’t understand his reasonings and he couldn’t stand the thought that she might pity him. He didn’t want anyone’s pity, much less hers.
So why did he feel Emilia was the only one that could help him- truly help him? It was ridiculous to think anyone could help him. He was in a misery of his own making, and nothing would change that.
Emilia shifted on the settee to face him. “You are wrong, Fredrick,” she said. “You are worthy of love.”
He shook his head. “The things I’ve done, the things I’ve seen…” His words trailed off. “You couldn’t possibly understand.”
“You are right,” she agreed. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t at least try, for your sake.”
“No, you are too kind-hearted to ever fathom what I did,” Fredrick said.
Emilia placed her hand on his sleeve. “You asked me to trust you, now I am asking for the same courtesy.”
“It isn’t that simple.”
“Whyever not?” Emilia asked. “Tell me what troubles you.”
Fredrick glanced down at her hand, knowing precisely how Emilia would react when he told her that he had killed a child. She would look at him with disgust and he didn’t think he could endure that. He cared for Emilia, so much so that he needed to protect her from himself.
“I don’t think I can,” Fredrick admitted.
“Yes, you can,” she encouraged.
Fredrick met her gaze and he could see compassion stirring within her. He knew her intentions were pure, but could he risk darkening her soul, just as his was?
In a soft voice, Emilia shared, “I want to help you, Fredrick. Tell me how to do so.”
“I am past hope.”
“I don’t believe that to be true,” Emilia said. “You are a good man.”
Fredrick huffed. “You are wrong?—”
She spoke over him. “I am not,” she asserted. “I know precisely the man that you are. Kind. Honorable. Loyal. You helped me when no one else would.”
