‘Book,’ said Lotte as she followed it by climbing onto her uncle’s lap and resting her head on his chest. ‘Read story.’
Freddie’s face shuttered; any vulnerability or openness she thought she’d seen went completely as he picked up the book as if it were poisonous. Lotte took it from him and opened it randomly. ‘You like, is good.’ She snuggled closer, sticking her thumb in her mouth, waiting for Freddie to begin.
The colour leached from Freddie’s face, his gaze flicking over the page but not landing on any of the words. That’s when the truth hit Emily with all the force of a galloping horse.
Freddie couldn’t read.
No wonder he didn’t like books. She didn’t understand the how or the why of it. She knew he’d had an education; he’d gone to school like the rest of the Dashworth brothers. She’d been angry that he kept wasting it by not paying proper attention. Previously, she’d have believed it was something he had done on purpose, but she could seefrom the panic in his eyes that his lack was causing him great discomfort. Maybe there was something wrong with his eyesight. Maybe the person who had tried to teach him had failed in some fundamental way. Whatever the reason, Emily knew she would do anything to ease his horror.
‘May I read the story, Lotte?’
Lotte nodded. Emily slid the book from Freddie’s lap, her fingers brushing against the material clinging to his legs as she did so. She ignored the tiny explosions that went off in her hand as she moved away. She had not touched Freddie’s skin and so the reaction was ridiculous. She flexed her fingers a few times, willing them to stop their shaking. She was going to have to turn the pages in front of Freddie and it would not do her any good if he could see them trembling like this.
She turned to a page. ‘Look at this ferocious bear.’ She turned the book so Lotte could see the picture. ‘Look how long his claws are and at his big pointy teeth. Now everyone was scared of him because of the way he looked, but he had a deep secret he told nobody. He was afraid of… spiders. The tiny little creatures who like to spin webs to catch people unaware. He was so scared, his blood would start wobbling even if he saw one that was no bigger than a pinprick.’ Lotte’s eyes widened. ‘One day, he was walking in the woods, scaring all the people who dared to step near any ofhistrees when…’
She carried on making up the story as she went along, making it obvious to Freddie that she wasn’t reading the words from the page, that he could pick up any book and make a story from the pictures he saw.
She hoped that he wouldn’t withdraw from her, that their growing closeness wouldn’t come to an end now that she knew another one of his secrets. From the pale colour of his skin and the way his eyes were fixed on a point above her shoulder, she didn’t hold out much hopeand her heart ached at the thought that whatever it was that was starting between them might already be at an end.
Chapter Fifteen
Lotte shifted in his arms as Freddie wished for a quick death. Now Emily knew that he couldn’t read, that he had a dream he’d failed to achieve and that he found her so beautiful he fumbled his compliments like a half-witted fool. What on God’s green earth had possessed him to keep saying the word ‘different’? He may as well carve out his heart and lay it at her feet for her to trample on. Christ, what a fool he was.
It was obvious now, as Emily waxed lyrical about a bear named Simon who was so terrified of spiders that he was being picked on by one tinier than a full stop, that this was not the text that made up the book. The heavy tome that was now half resting on him and slowly cutting into his thigh was clearly some sort of reference book containing no stories suitable for a little girl. From the minute Charlotte had thrown it at him, Freddie had panicked. The words were tiny and were so busy leaping about the place before Freddie’s eyes that even glancing at them was making him feel nauseous. Although the overwhelming sick feeling could also be down to the fact that he had revealed everything about himself to Emily.
What must she think of him? Well, he knew what she would think—that he was a brainless idiot. That was what his aunt had always said whenever it came to the subject of his schooling, oranything to do with him really. But it had been his inability to follow a sentence that had borne the brunt of her condemnation.
Despite what his aunt had thought, he had tried to learn to read. Life would be a lot easier if he could do it, but no matter how hard he had stared at books, no matter how much his eyes had burned as he tried to stop the words leaping about, it had never happened. That part of his mind was broken.
He was a fool to even think that he could get a business off the ground. How could he even think about purchasing the ground near Berferd and building an exquisite garden? He wouldn’t be able to read any contracts, people would take advantage of him all the time and he’d be ruined within six months.
Lotte grew heavier in his arms, a sure sign she was drifting off to sleep. He should stand and take his leave. There was no point in him listening to this story about a bear afraid of spiders, even if it was funny and engaging.
The sitting room had taken on a soft golden glow as the spring sun had risen further. It was hitting Emily’s hair, making it shine like a halo. The flowers sewn onto her dress seemed to move in a breeze as her chest rose and fell. There was a light smattering of freckles on the left of her collarbone that he’d never noticed before. He wondered at the softness of her skin there, at the contrast between the bone and her delicate neck and how it would feel to use his lips to softly explore every part of her.
Lotte emitted a soft snort, her thumb falling out of her mouth and landing on her dress. Her mouth smacked together once, twice before she settled into an even deeper sleep.
Emily’s voice trailed off as she gazed at his niece and the room descended into silence save for the grandfather clock ticking somewhere deeper in the house.
‘She is so peaceful,’ Emily whispered. ‘I wish it was as easy to sleep like that as an adult.’
The old Freddie would have made some teasing comment about resting her head against his chest and seeing if it worked, but the words seemed too crass, too foolish. It would be a reminder of the man who was so ignorant he couldn’t read.
‘We never follow the words,’ Emily continued softly. ‘It is a very dry book, even I find it boring.’
She lifted her gaze and met his eyes for the first time in a while. He expected to see pity in her expression, but she was looking at him kindly and he realised she was giving him an out. He could make some comment about how all books were dull to him and they would be back to their normal position. He opened his mouth to do it, but he couldn’t. ‘I cannot read,’ he said instead.
She blinked. The only sign that she had heard him.
‘I have tried, but the words swim about on the page.’ He shrugged as the import of what he’d done hit him. It was one thing for her to guess at his failing, quite another for her toknowunequivocally. ‘We both know I am a careless man.’ He smoothed a hand down his trouser leg; his stomach turned to see that his fingers were not quite steady. ‘I obviously did not try hard enough.’
‘Do not do that,’ she said softly.
‘Do what?’
‘Put on the airs of a man you think the world wants to see.’
‘I am doing no such thing,’ he lied instinctively. ‘This is me.’
