“What is it, Lise?”
“I need to know what’s happening,” she said.“I cannot simply remain here in your house indefinitely.My parents will be home in a few days, and I must be back in Eutin by then.”
“That is unlikely,” he said.Then added, “Please sit.”
She did so, choosing to ignore his strange words and the frisson of alarm they evoked.Within the next twenty-four hours, Lise intended to leave, willy-nilly.And that was that.
Friedrich resumed his chair, steepling his fingers as he looked across his desk at her.Silently.
“You said you would help,” she reminded him.“You said —”
“I explained that these things take time.”
“Surely you learned something yesterday.Anything.”
Leaning back in his chair, he studied her with an intensity that made the back of her neck prickle.
“Again, your obsession with this Englishman makes me uneasy.Even more so, now that you’ve told me he’s a nobleman.Why wouldn’t you prefer this lord to me, a humble merchant?”
Thinking it a silly rhetorical question, particularly thehumblepart, considering they sat surrounded by the finest of everything, she said nothing.By the sudden red flush to his cheeks, shed’ annoyed him by not answering.
“Do you, Lise?Do you want this man rather than me?”
The question caught her off guard.“Why would you say that?”
When Friedrich rose again, abruptly this time, she broke off.He came around the desk and leaned his hips against it, directly in front of her.Crossing his arms, staring down at her, he didn’t look anything like the round-faced boy she used to play with.His features had thinned and hardened.
“I know what you told me,” he said.“But I also recall that Lord Bowen was hiding in your home when I last visited you.”
She gasped, and he shook his head.“You lied to my face about those horses being a gift for Henrik.Did you think I was stupid, Lise?”
“No, I —”
“You even tried to keep me out of your father’s stable.Why wouldn’t you tell me, your betrothed, about such a tricky situation?Why wouldn’t my loving Lise confide in me?Why would you keep the confidence of a stranger, instead, when you and I are nearly family?”
“He’s not a stranger,” she began, belatedly realizing that was the wrong tact.“That is, he’s —”
“What.Is.He.To.You?”Friedrich’s voice had taken on an edge, sharp and dangerous.“Tell me the truth.”
Lise’s heart hammered in her chest.About to stand, so she could move away, she waited too long.He trapped her.Leaning down, he calmly placed a broad hand on either arm of the chair.
“He’s a friend,” she began.
“I’m a friend,” he said softly.“A long-time family friend, and your particular friend, yours and Henrik’s.Why would a new friendship with this man make you close me out of your life?”
She shook her head.“He was simply a ...a kind man in London.And then, when he came to see Henrik, who wasn’t there, he was a well-behaved dinner guest.”She was stammering, her pulse racing.
“Kind and well-behaved,” he mused.“Am I not both of those things?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Are he and I equal, then, in your eyes?”
“Yes,” she said quickly, then shook her head.“I mean, no, not at all.You are my intended, and he’s ...he’s merely Henrik’s friend.”The word was so ridiculously tame and tepid.
“I see.Now you say he’s only Henrik’s friend,” Friedrich said.Then he brought his face close to hers.“You’re lying.I can see it in your eyes.You’re in love with him.”
“That’s absurd.”
