“I danced,” she told him.
“Under Henrik’s watchful eyes, I imagine.”
He would be surprised how inattentive her brother had been when in the company of his friends and after a few glasses of punch.She merely shrugged.
“Did you dance with any man more than once?”
“Oh, heavens,” she said, squirming on her chair, recalling precisely how many times she had danced with Jonathan.But it wasn’t the waltz that Friedrich should be worried about.
“Maybe.Yes, I suppose I did.”Against her wishes, her cheeks heated.She probably appeared guilty.After trying to talk to Friedrich about not getting married, if that were at all possible, if he had even the smallest of doubts, Lise was now having to convince him she was still his faithful betrothed.
“Then some manwasvery interested in you,” he surmised.“More than ever, I wish I had been there.”
“You have little interest in the KGL apart from Henrik’s and your brother’s involvement.You would have been bored.”She should have stopped there, but her tongue had a mind of its own.“It’s good you didn’t come.”
“Really?”This time his eyes narrowed.
She’d gone too far.“I meant only that we were mostly in our same group of soldiers, a few wives, even one or two parents, and then me.”
“I see,” he said at last.Then, as if it were a threat, he said, “Next time you travel, it will be as my wife.”
That landed like a stone in her stomach.“Mm,” she said, noncommittally, unable to look him in the eyes for the misery that must show there.
“Your expression worries me, Lise,” Friedrich said.“We have known for years that we belong together.I do not like thinking that a few weeks away from me has caused you to change your mind.Either because you enjoyed your freedom in a foreign land or because you danced with another man.”
Deciding to tell him a little of the truth —that she was not suited to be his wife, that he deserved someone who cared more deeply for him than she did— yet Friedrich stopped her tongue with his next words.
“You mentioned my disinterest in the KGL.I assure you I am deeply concerned for my brother and for my friend.I would hate anything to happen to either.”
His tone caused her to lift her gaze from the table and look at him.“Please, don’t even think of anything bad happening,” she said, “let alone speak of it.
“Henrik is fortunate,” Friedrich went on.“Probably one of the most fortunate lieutenants in the Legion.Because of our betrothal, my brother has a particular reason to look out for Henrik.Should anything change between us, your brother would be merely another soldier.As the eldest son, Albert would take very personally any dishonor to me and to our family.If he learned I had been slighted, Henrik might be sent somewhere dangerous.”
Just like that, Friedrich had threatened Henrik’s life merely due to her morose countenance.
“Don’t forget the terrible confiscations.”He shook his head.“Did you know that families as close as Lübeck have been thrown out of their homes?If they see any vulnerability, there is no one to stop the French detachments from simply taking a house or even an entire estate.Of course, since you are my betrothed, my brother will throw the entire might of his regiment to protect you and your family.It’s most reassuring, isn’t it?”
All the blood had drained from her head.He was intimating that they could lose their home should she break off their engagement.
“Yet I am speaking nonsense,” Friedrich said, rising from his chair.“You are my Lise, and everything is fine.In fact, next time I visit, it will be my honor to present your father with theEhevertrag.Once he looks it over and signs it, I shall stop having such foolish thoughts that you have changed your mind.”
Leaning down, he took her hand and kissed it.His gaze caught and held hers, unwavering.Intense.Cold.
“You wouldn’t want to break my heart and dishonor me, would you?”
“Of course not,” she whispered.
Nodding, he left her sitting there.A few minutes later, when Lise knew he had gone, she was relieved, but mixed with that emotion was the unmistakable feeling of dread.
Chapter Seven
In the late afternoon, the light slanted golden and warm through the drawing room windows.Lise had set aside her embroidery hoop with its current pattern of oak leaves, because it gave her too much time to think.
So many wistful, impossible thoughts that mocked her unsettled heart.
She’d been out of kilter ever since Friedrich’s visit a week earlier.In order to keep her mind engaged and away from everything over which she had no control, she was reading a cherished gift from her father, a coming home present.The recently published book,Corinne, ou l’Italie, had come back with him from a trip to Eutin.As Madame de Staël’s novels were published first in French, Lise was occupying herself by translating it into German, simply for the mental stimulation and the amusement of it.
With her writing box across her thighs, and both the book and sheets of paper lying on its smooth walnut surface, she worked diligently.Beside her, on the same plush sofa, her mother was mending a tear in her father’s coat.
