by Aria Norton
Nash wanted to blurt out that he was sorry that he could not save her from his father, or give her a better future. In some way, I am to blame for all that has happened, and I have no means of fixing it.
“Only tired, as I said.”
Freddi narrowed her eyes at him. “Did you not sleep last night?”
She does not believe my excuse, but I can give her no other reason. However, the thought of sitting on his own in his room did not sit well with him. I need companionship, and Freddi will not do. Perhaps some time with Willoughby would be beneficial to him.
“Yes, I did. Rather, I think some fresh air will do me some good.” He got up, grabbing his coat. “I shall see you later.”
Freddi stood up. “Where are you going, Nash?”
“Willoughby. I would like to spend a little more time with him before we... before we return to Alfriston. Who knows when I shall see him next?”
An odd look passed over her eyes as she looked at him for the longest while. I feel as though she is trying to read my mind, and if I stay any longer, she may succeed.
“Very well, do as you please. Edwina and I shall keep ourselves busy.”
At the mention of her name, the woman looked up. “Are you off somewhere, my Lord?”
“Yes, to Lord Curtis. I shall see you both later this evening.”
The woman frowned but nodded. "Oh, all right. Shall we wait for you for dinner?"
"No, Edwina," Freddi replied, still looking at him. "Lord Salisbury would like to spend the remainder of our time in London with his old friend. I daresay that he will eat there as well."
The sting in Freddi's words was felt in the very marrow of his bones. Not only have I disappointed her, but I have also somehow angered and offended her. Perhaps it would be best that he leave the room in case the strong urge to divulge the state of his mind and feelings came over him.
“Do not worry about me, Edwina. Goodbye.”
Nash felt Freddi's eyes on him, but he did not turn around as he left the room. Not only had the London trail grown cold, but so had his future with Freddi.
***
Willoughby had taken one look at Nash and brought him into his study for a brandy. Nash was grateful that after all these years, his friend could still read him well enough to take action rather than ask many questions about his mood. Willoughby handed him the brandy before taking a seat opposite him.
“I take it that your trip to Ann George did not turn out in the way you had hoped?”
Nash sighed. “No. I have hit dead end upon dead end with no relief in sight.”
“What will you do now?”
“Return to Alfriston. I am afraid that there is not much else that I can do at this stage. Without any other evidence or clue, my hands are tied.”
“And Freddi?”
Nash put the glass to his brow, rolling it across his forehead. What could he say about Freddi? Willoughby already knew of his love for Freddi, but what he did not know was that she was not his fiancée, not yet. Not even if I return to France. I cannot expect her to wait for me while I secure a small fortune for us. But would she do so if he were to confess his feelings?
Not a man alive welcomed rejection and she would surely reject him if he could offer her nothing. No, Freddi is not that type of woman, but how can I expect her to wait for me? Where is the fairness in that? What will she do while she waits? She cannot look after herself in Alfriston, Father has made sure of that. Her only option is to marry Down or find employment away from the town. If she leaves Alfriston, she is likely to find a man who will appreciate her beauty and nature and take her as his wife. A sharp pain pierced his heart, making him take a quick breath. Willoughby seemed to understand him despite his lack of communication.
“You are in a fix, old friend. What are your options once you return to Alfriston? Your father is not the type of man to agree to such a union.”
“I would rather not think on it, Willoughby. Right now, I wish to drink this excellent brandy and think on the glory years of our youth.”
A time before everything went pear-shaped in his life. If he could turn back the hands of time, he would do so in a heartbeat. I would go back to that day and change the events that led up to this unfortunate life. A life where ten years of his existence were spent without the woman he loved. As a boy, Nash might not have known what love was, but he had understood that Freddi was vital to him. Being away from her had been the hardest thing to bear, far more than being estranged from his father.
As he had grown into an adult, Nash had come to realise that his feelings for Freddi were those of a man completely and utterly in love with a woman. Nash recalled how memories of her laugh and smile had comforted him during those early months after his injury. He only had to close his eyes to see her face, the way her eyes would turn into slits as she laughed freely, or the way her lovely mouth stretched wide into a grin.
All those memories of the twelve-year-old Freddi had not prepared him for the woman she had become during the years of their separation. She hardly smiles or laughs now, but that is to be expected. However, my love for her has not changed, despite her stubborn distance from me.
Three glasses later, Nash felt freer to talk about his predicament. Willoughby is my friend, I can tell him anything.
“Do you know what defeat looks like?” he asked.
“Tell me.”
"Me," Nash said, beating his chest. "I am what defeat looks like."
“Do not say such things, Nash, it is not your fault that your father has enemies.”
Nash waved his hand, clutching his head when the room tilted to the side.
“Why is your study moving?”
“Moving?” Willoughby asked, looking around.
“Yes. Look, it is moving slowly, nothing is standing still.” Nash peered closely at his friend. “And neither are you. Sit still, Willoughby, you are making me dizzy.”
Willoughby laughed. “You may have had one too many drinks, old friend. Perhaps it is time for you to have something lighter to drink, or better yet, why not something to eat?”
“Eat? I have not done that today.”
“No wonder you are in this state! Nash, you should know better than to drink on an empty stomach. I shall have Mrs Bridges prepare some food. I normally do not eat anything heavy in the evenings, but you are in need of a solid meal. Just a moment.”
Willoughby disappeared from view, leaving Nash to himself. He placed his glass on the table, but missed it entirely, and watched it fall to the carpet. Fortunately, the glass did not shatter, but rolled beneath Willoughby's desk. Perhaps I have imbibed a tad too much, but three glasses of brandy are hardly enough to rob me of my senses. Leaving his chair, Nash got to his knees, landing with a thud.
“What the deuces?!”
Rubbing his kneecaps, he looked beneath the desk for the offending glass. Willoughby found him in that position, his expression one of amusement.
“The floor is not normally a place that I find my guests, Nash.”
“Amusing as it may seem, there is practicality to it. I have dropped your glass, and I wished to retrieve it.”
"Leave it be. Bernadette will get it when she cleans the study tomorrow. I think that we should retire to the drawing-room to await our dinner. A tea tray will be brought to us there while we wait."
“Yes, fine.”
Nash tried to get up, but the room began to spin again. He paused, cursing himself for his weakness. Two hands appeared beneath his armpits, lifting him up.
“Do not feel ashamed, old friend. We all have our moments, particularly when we wish to forget about our circumstances. Alas, alcohol comes with its own consequences.”
But Nash had not forgotten about his circumstances, the alcohol had only worked to dull his control of his body. Willoughby led him to the drawing-room, guiding him to a sofa.
“Rest easy, our tea should arrive shortly.”
Nash nodded, laying his head on the armrest. “Thank you, Willoughby. I
am not normally like this, but some things are harder than most to bear.”
“Share the load, and tell me of it. I already know that your father does not approve of her, Nash, and I gave you my word that I would help you and Freddi in any way that I can. If you would tell me of the trials you face once you return to Alfriston, I may be of use to you.”
Should he tell his friend? I am exhausted from keeping up with this lie and trying to solve a case that does not wish to be solved. Would Willoughby judge him? Perhaps. However, Nash found himself revealing the truth behind his and Freddi's relationship despite the warning in his head.
“I feel drained, Willoughby. Nothing is turning out in the way that I had hoped.” He looked down. “The engagement is fake.”
“What do you mean?”
“Freddi and I are not engaged. It was a lie I came up with to protect her honour.”
Nash looked up, expecting to see an expression of disgust on his friend's face, but instead, he saw understanding.
“I would have done the same had I been in your place.”
Relieved, Nash laughed. “You do not know how worried I was about you finding out about this. The brandy has undoubtedly loosened my tongue, but I am glad that it did.”
“I would not have judged you, Nash, you were never one to take something as serious as this lightly. If you felt a fake engagement was the best solution for your situation, then it was. But what of your feelings for Freddi? You seemed so sincere in speaking of your love for her.”
“Only the engagement is fake, but I meant everything else that I said. I love Freddi, Willoughby, and I truly wish to marry her. But I have many obstacles before me, and I am afraid that I will never make her mine.”
“Do you speak of your father?”
“He is but one aspect of the problem. I have not told Freddi what I feel for her, and she does not know that I wish to marry her.”
“Why ever not? Do not be a fool, Nash! Life is far too short to have these types of regrets.”
Nash rubbed his temples. "I know, I know, but I have nothing to offer her, Willoughby. I will return to France, and she may marry a man old enough to be her father."
Willoughby tutted, shaking his head. “I would not have taken you for a coward, Nash. But I must confess that I had an inkling that your engagement was not all it appeared to be.”
"Perhaps I am a coward, but I am one in love with a woman who does not know the full extent of my feelings." He chuckled, the sound sad rather than merry. "I do not know if she truly loves me, but in my heart, I think she might, or perhaps it is only wishful thinking."
"Nash, I can tell you without a doubt that Freddi feels something strong for you. I managed to observe her a little the day that you came to see me, and I know that her heart is not without affection for you."
Willoughby's words lifted his heart. “Indeed? Do you truly think so?”
“Yes, I would not speak it unless I was certain of it. My advice to you is to tell her of your feelings, and allow her to decide if she wishes to be with you or not.”
Nash could not see himself doing such a thing. It sounded selfish of him, as though he were piling on troubles for her. Their tea was brought then, followed by word that their dinner was ready to be served in the dining hall. Nash chewed on Willoughby's words as he worked his way through roast beef, gravy, and potatoes, wondering if his friend's words had any practical wisdom to them. They were words that he continued to ponder when he returned to Rose's Inn, and far into the night as he lay in bed. Coward or not, his first priority was Freddi. He had to do what was best for her.
***
Freddi stared at her eggs. They had grown so cold that the broken yolks had congealed to the plate. Edwina had insisted that she eat some breakfast, but her appetite had disappeared around the same time Nash had left them yesterday. I have not seen him yet, and I do not know if he has returned. Why did he choose to worry her so? Was there any pleasure to be derived from her worries about his safety? He does as he pleases, and yet he wishes to control what I do. Where is the fairness in this?
“Dear, you have hardly touched your breakfast.”
Freddi looked at Edwina's clean plate. The woman had moped up every bit of grease with a chunk of bread and was happily licking her fingers.
“I am not hungry, Edwina. Perhaps I shall eat something a little later.”
“You hardly had anything to eat at dinner, and now you have not touched your breakfast save to push it around a bit. Now I know that you are worried about your young man, but you do not need to be. He returned last night just after midnight.”
Freddi's whole body sprung to attention. “Why did you not tell me of this sooner? I did not hear him return.”
“I am a light sleeper, my dear. I tend to hear most things that happen around me, including conversations.”
The woman gave her a meaningful look. Why do I have the feeling that she is telling me something? Realisation dawned like lightening.
“You heard our conversation of the day before?”
Edwina nodded. “Yes, but rest assured that I am not such a nosey woman as to interfere. The important part is that Lord Salisbury returned last night, and judging by his heavy footsteps, he may have had a little too much to drink.”
Nash, tipsy? Freddi had never witnessed it before. No wonder he did not return any sooner, he was far too busy drinking. Annoyed, Freddi stabbed an egg with her fork and shovelled it into her mouth. Of all the selfish things to do to me! We came to London together, but I have thus far felt as though he has been doing most of the work alone.
Yes, having a chaperone might be cumbersome, but it was hardly her fault that he had insisted on calling her his fiancée and not his sister. As I see it, we could have had more work done had I been his relation. A cousin would have done perfectly, as well! Why did he not think of that? Perhaps he had intended to keep her out of the investigation, and if that were the case, then he had done her an injustice. Just wait until I see him.
Nash walked into the inn's dining hall ten minutes later, his demeanour one of a man who had given up. Everything that Freddi had wanted to say to him vanished with the rapid arrival of her concern.
“Would you like some breakfast, Nash? There are eggs and ham.”
“Yes, that would be lovely- thank you, Freddi.”
Freddi felt as though he were thanking her for more than just her offer to fix him a plate. She watched as he sat down, his drop into the chair heavy and uncontrolled. He does not appear tipsy, perhaps he is just tired from the late hour he kept yesterday. Freddi put three eggs, two large slices of ham, and a chunk of bread on his plate, placing it in front of him before making him some tea.
“How did you sleep, my Lord?” Edwina asked.
"As well as to be expected. Our trip to London has come to an abrupt end, and we must travel back." Nash reached into his breast pocket, taking out a few notes. "Thank you for assisting us, Edwina. You have our appreciation."
Nash passed the notes to a frowning Edwina, who took them without counting.
“So soon? You have not yet passed a week here, my Lord. Must you leave so soon?”
“Yes. Our business here has concluded, and our home awaits us.”
Edwina turned to her. “Freddi, do you agree with this? I would be sorry to see you go. I have grown rather attached to the both of you.”
Freddi's eyes travelled to Nash. Has he given up? If we return to Alfriston, then it will mark the end of our time together. There was nothing that she could do about it even if she wanted to stay longer in London. I have no money to do a thing; I am at the mercy of his decision.
