Hopefully, what she’d done in London, what she had allowed Jonathan to do, and what she still dreamed about wouldn’t be punished by anything happening to her brother.
Henrik had trusted her.He’d trusted Jonathan.That trust was a wound she would carry, raw and unhealed.But God help her, she couldn’t truly regret those few minutes of utter bliss.
Friedrich arrived two days after Henrik’s departure, having received a message from Lise’s mother.
Her betrothed had changed in the months since she’d last seen him.His cheeks were heavier, rounder.He was softer all around.His hazel eyes looked happier than someone from their occupied land ought to.
She tried to shake off the unkind thoughts, but Friedrich seemed unfamiliar despite having known him since they were children.Even his flaxen hair was newly styled, cut short and brushed forward onto his high forehead.
She couldn’t help contrasting it to Jonathan’s brown wavy hair, worn longer, always looking dashingly windswept.It was a nobleman’s affectation that shouldn’t please her.But it did.
In fact, Lise wished she could cease the callous comparison between her betrothed, who seemed ill-made and slack, and Jonathan, whose muscular figure pressed against her own curves was still a distinct and pulse-quickening memory.
Dear God, how would she ever get past it?
Friedrich brought gifts for her and her family.French wine, English tea procured through channels he did not explain, and a bolt of silk in a sunny golden yellow that she feared would make her skin look sallow.
“How on earth did you get such luxuries?”her mother asked, obviously impressed.Lise and Henrik hadn’t risked bringing even a single sachet of tea back from Britain in case they were stopped and searched.Even being a member of the KGL was less dangerous than breaking the Continental System, Bonaparte's economic blockade to weaken Britain.
Friedrich merely shrugged.“One must be practical in wartime and take advantage of opportunities awaiting those clever enough to see them.”
His answer made her father frown.
Then Friedrich kissed her hand with all the proper courtesy, under her parents’ watchful eyes.But even when they were left alone, he didn’t attempt to kiss her mouth.Lise wished her mother hadn’t given them permission to have ten minutes by themselves to get reacquainted.In the first few minutes, seated beside him on the sofa, she felt nothing in his presence.
Not relief, nor desire, not even the mild affection she’d once harbored for the boy who had pulled her braids and teased her over her inability to skip stones as far as he could, during their families’ summer trips together.While staying in aGutshäuser, on the shore of Kellersee, she played and fished and explored with Henrik and Friedrich as if she, too, were a boy.
Until the year she was clearly no longer a boy.By the end of that summer, her parents and his decided she and Friedrich would make an excellent couple.
So why was there now a hollow absence where feelings of devotion and fondness ought to be?
She tried.God knew she tried.She spent her ten minutes with him, giving Friedrich her undivided attention, feeling like it was punishment.He’d always had tongue enough for two sets of teeth, Henrik’s way of calling their friend talkative.Thus, Lise had little to do apart from nodding at appropriate intervals and offering small smiles when he paused and looked at her expectantly.
At one point, Friedrich mentioned “their future,” living where trade could flourish now and continue once the war ended.
When her mother rejoined them, bringing refreshing elderflower water and almond cookies, Lise could have wept with relief.Why had his prattling on so never bothered her before?Nor his hazel eyes, nor his blond curls, nor his overly full lips that now looked to be always a little… moist.
“Has Lise told you all about her trip?”her mother asked.
Her intended had asked very little about England, but he nodded anyway.
“Tell me how your dear parents are?”Frau von Ostenfeld asked him.His parents and hers had been friends since before any of their children were born.
After Friedrich answered, her mother asked after the welfare of his older brother, Captain Albrecht, Henrik’s commanding officer.
“I’m afraid I don’t know where he is, at present,” Friedrich said.“I’m sure Lise saw more of the KGL in Britain than you’ll see here.They are like ghosts moving across the landscape.”
Afterward, they went for a long ride, accompanied by her father.She was grateful to be allowed to let her horse fall back so the two men could ride side-by-side and continue conversing.
She had nothing to say to Friedrich, and the rest of her life not to say it.
Alone, when she was supposed to be changing for dinner, she sent her maid away, asking for half an hour’s peace.Then, sitting on the edge of her bed, pressing her fingers to her lips, Lise couldn’t resist letting her thoughts flit over every moment with Jonathan, from his insult to their waltz to the Earl’s dinner party to the dim passageway.
Jonathan had made her feel tingly and excited, as if everything and everyone else remained in a world of shadows.And that was evenbeforehe kissed her.Recalling the sound of his breathing, ragged against her ear, she considered it one of the most cherished sounds in her life.Second only to when he’d whispered her name against her skin.
“Tell me to stop,” he’d said.Then there was the moment he had refused her offer to touch him in return, his voice rough: “That belongs to your husband.”
She hadn’t known it was possible to feel grateful and bereft at once.
