Frankly, Rose was not positive of it either. She was still cross with him over his harsh words toward her and Percy, but his initial apologyhadfelt sincere.
Deciding to gamble on Thorfinn providing a good explanation for his behavior, Rose patted the seat next to her. He gave her a grateful look and sank down.
“Why don’t you call out each word from your brother’s letter?” Rose suggested. “I’ll look it up in the guide I created and tell you what it means. Then you can write down the correct term. That way, you’ll be the first to see Reggie’s message.”
“Thank you.”
The rough emotion in Thorfinn’s voice made Rose soften toward him just a little bit more. Nothing about this was easy for him. She needed to remember that as much as her emotions were stirred up, Thorfinn’s were exponentially more engendered. Thiswashis brother’s last letter to him.
They conducted the translation with a solemnity akin to a memorial service. Each word that they called out sounded like part of a somber Gregorian chant. With an air of reverence, Thorfinn recorded each word on a fresh sheet of paper until they reached the end of Reggie’s original letter.
Neither of them spoke for a long moment as Thorfinn stared down at the revealed message. His eye did not flick across the page, and Rose knew that he was gathering the strength to read the contents.
“I can leave,” she told him softly, instinctively reaching for his hand and giving it a squeeze.
“Nay,” Thorfinn said, his voice low and unfathomably deep. “Stay, please. I’m glad you are here.”
An encompassing ache filled Rose at the words. Despite the anger that had passed between them a few days ago, she wished she could help alleviate his pain ... and felt a bit honored that he wanted her by his side during this intensely private moment.
Thorfinn neededher.
Which was an odd feeling. No one had ever really needed Rose before. Yes, her patients had relied on her to bring them to safety. But that was a physical thing. An interchangeable thing. But Thorfinn neededherpresence,herwords,hercomfort.
And that ... that frightened Rose. For it meant acknowledging that she needed him too—that they’d formed a bond. And a connection like that opened a body to pain ... and to love.
But Rose didn’t run. She gripped Thorfinn’s hand even tighter.
He drew in his breath, his muscular shoulders rising nearly to his ears as he began to read in a deep, slightly unsteady voice:
Dear Sin,
I’ll begin with the classic line—if you’re reading this, I’m afraid that I am dead.
Thorfinn broke off with a faint bittersweet twist to his lips. “That was Reggie. Irreverent to the end.”
“Even in the poste de secours, his wry humor was obvious.” Rose’s eyes burned as she remembered the brave man whose hand she’d held as he’d breathed his last.
“Reggie always liked to make people smile.” Thorfinn’s voice seemed on the verge of breaking as he rapidly blinked his left eye. He drew in air, and even Rose swore she could feel its raggedness rumble in her own chest. Resolutely, Thorfinn gripped the paper and began again.
I hope it was a heroic death at least. If I had to die young, I pray that it was for a good cause. I used to want to die in glory, but I have learned that this damnable war holds little of that. You did the honorable thing, the brave thing by choosing to stay to provide for your younger siblings.
Thorfinn’s voice did crack then. As he took in gulps to steady himself, Rose rubbed his arm with her free hand. She knew the doubts he faced and could only imagine how much he’d needed to hear his brother say that.
“He’s right, you know,” Rose whispered fiercely, tears burning in her own eyes.
A jerk of his head seemed to be the only acknowledgment that Thorfinn was currently capable of giving before he continued on.
My behavior toward you was not only selfish, but childish. I cannot tell you how many times I thanked God that you were not at my side.
Thorfinn swallowed hard, and Rose knew he was taking a moment to absorb Reggie’s words. He seemed to gather strength from them before he plowed on.
One of those occasions was when I was captured by the Germans. I was badly wounded from shrapnel and sent to a hospital in German-occupied Belgium. I was fortunate to be placed under the care of a nurse whose father was English, and who had grown up in Kent. She’d been working in Belgium before the hostilities and had kept her position. At great risk to her own life, she helped British prisoners of war escape. Once I was capable of moving under my own locomotion, she arranged my perilous dash to freedom. Before I left, she told me that many of the wounded Allies had mentioned that it seemed as if the Germans had known their plans beforehand. I was the most well-connected prisoner that she had helped, and she urged me to uncover more.
While I was recovering, I formed connections with men from the War Office. I managed to secure a desk position there, and I began to unravel a spy ring. Not knowing who I could trust—and how high the problem went—I traveled to Hamarray to sort out my findings. I wished terribly to call upon you, but I was ashamed, and I did not want to bring danger to you and your siblings.
“Astrid was right that Reggie had felt too guilty to see me.” Thorfinn’s voice was thick as his throat muscles seemed to work double to get the sentence out. Rose wrapped one arm around him and squeezed.
“Despite the fact I knew him so briefly, even I saw that he sorely regretted how he treated you,” Rose said. “He cared deeply for you, Thorfinn. You were one of the loved ones he gave his life to protect.”
