“Wellington sent me home on assignment and requested I remain behind to attend to my ailing mother,” Fredrick shared.
“Could you go back after she passes?” Emilia inquired.
“No, I would be more of a hindrance than a help,” Fredrick said. “I just have to accept my days as a soldier are over. I am just an earl that has far too many regrets to quash the painful memories of my past.”
Emilia didn’t know what to say or do. She wanted to tell him that everything would be all right, but she didn’t know what the future held for him, or her.
While she tried to find the right words to provide some sort of comfort to him, Fredrick abruptly brought his horse to a halt and turned his gaze towards the woodlands.
“Did you see that?” he asked.
“I saw nothing,” Emilia replied.
Fredrick’s eyes scanned over the woodlands. “I saw a light shining through the trees. There, I saw it again.” He dismounted and offered his horse’s reins to the groom. “I will be back. Wait here.”
“Are you sure that is wise?” Emilia asked.
Lord Roswell had dismounted as well and was approaching Fredrick. “Did you see that?”
“I did,” Fredrick replied. “Shall we go investigate?”
As the gentlemen walked towards the woodlands, Anette moved her horse closer to Emilia. “They will be back shortly. Until then, what shall we talk about?”
“Cheese?” Emilia quipped.
Anette gave her an odd look. “Cheese?” she asked. “Is that what you and Fredrick were discussing?”
Emilia grinned. “It was just one of the many things that we spoke about.”
“Well, surely we can find something that is more interesting than cheese,” Anette responded.
The gentlemen stepped into the cover of trees, vanishing from her sight, leaving Emilia to wonder what they were truly investigating.
As Fredrick ventured into the woodlands, he retrieved his pistol, an unsettling feeling in his gut. Someone had signaled them, but he didn’t know who or for what purpose. It could very well be a trap.
Every one of his senses were heightened as he glanced over at his brother. The same uncertainty and wariness were etched on Roswell’s face, and it was clear they were both walking into the unknown.
Fredrick halted abruptly, his breath catching as he laid eyes on the last person he’d expected to find in the woodlands. It was the dark-haired lady who had once pretended to be a serving wench, or was it the other way around? Confusion swirled around her identity, but there was no doubt that she stood before him, clad in a simple blue gown with her hair elegantly arranged in a chignon.
The young woman dispensed with pleasantries and got right to the point. “I see that you got my signal,” she remarked with a steady demeanor.
“We did,” Fredrick responded, his tone edged with impatience. “What is it that you want?”
“Caleb is in trouble,” the young woman informed them. “You need to go help him.”
Roswell stepped forward and asked, “How do you know that?”
“Lord Drycott learned of his identity and intends to kill him,” she shared. “You must go save him before it is too late.”
Fredrick wasn’t ready to blindly accept her claims just because she said so. “Why should we trust you?”
Annoyance flickered in her eyes as she responded, “I am not asking you to trust me. I am merely informing you that Caleb needs your help, and quickly.”
Roswell frowned, echoing Fredrick’s doubts about trusting her too quickly. “How do you know all of this?”
“How I learned it is not important, but just know that I do,” she asserted.
“That isn’t good enough for me,” Roswell said.
