His brother raised his eyebrow inquisitively. “No?” Roswell asked. “It just seems that you two are getting rather close to one another.”
Fredrick shifted uncomfortably in his seat, knowing his brother was being far too perceptive. “You would be wrong,” he lied.
“I don’t think I am,” Roswell said. “Surely you know by now that Anette has been trying to push you and Emilia together.”
“I had my suspicions.”
Roswell cocked his head, his gaze thoughtful. “Was she wrong to do so?”
“Yes,” Fredrick rushed to reply. “I have no desire to marry, and I do not wish to give Emilia false hope.”
“Is that what you think you are doing?”
Fredrick stood up abruptly. “I do not wish to discuss this.”
Leaning back in his seat, Roswell continued to press. “What is wrong with Emilia?”
“Nothing is wrong with her,” he stated.
“Then why are you trying to push her away?” Roswell questioned. “It is evident that you have feelings for her.”
Fredrick walked over to the mantel over the hearth and leaned against it. “It doesn’t matter what I feel for her. I won’t marry her. It wouldn’t be fair to her.”
“Emilia seems rather taken by you.”
Fredrick sighed. “I do not presume to know what she is feeling, but she can have her pick of suitors. She doesn’t need me.”
“She may not need you, but I think she is precisely whatyouneed,” Roswell said.
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I do not want anyone to share in my misery. It is my burden to bear alone.”
Roswell grew silent. “I kept Anette at arm’s length because I didn’t want her to be involved in my life as a spy. That, and a promise I made to Caleb. But I realized that I was wrong to do so. I am stronger with Anette in my life.”
“I do not contest that, but you haven’t experienced what I did on the battlefield,” Fredrick argued. “War degrades a man, leaving him a mere shadow of his former self.”
“You are still the same person,” Roswell said.
“Maybe to you, but to me, I feel different. I feel alone.”
Rising, Roswell approached him. “You are not alone. You have many people who care about you.”
“What about the lives I took?” Fredrick demanded. “They had loved ones waiting for them, as well. But I took that from them.”
Roswell placed a comforting hand on Fredrick’s shoulder. “I do not mean to diminish what you have gone through, but you are home now. You are safe.”
Fredrick closed his eyes as he felt tears forming in his eyes. He may be safe, but it didn’t take away the haunting images of the people that he had killed, especially Timmy’s. The memories seemed etched into his very soul, and he didn’t think he would ever rid himself of those.
Miss Delacourt’s voice came from the open window. “This is all very touching, but I’m afraid I don’t have much time.”
After she climbed through the window, she ran her hand down her pink gown and explained, “I had to wait until my companion retired for the evening before I could sneak out.”
“You have a companion?” Roswell asked.
“I do,” Miss Delacourt replied. “But that is not why I am here, is it?”
Fredrick turned to face her. “Perhaps we should become better acquainted with one another before we get started.”
With a dismissive wave of her hand, Miss Delacourt replied, “That is not necessary. I know everything I need to know about both of you.”
