Page 57 of Lady Frederica and the Scot Who Would Not
Guinevere sighed. “Frederica, I’m going to be blunt. There is nothing wrong with you.”
“I never said there was!”
“No,” Guinevere agreed, “you didn’t, but in the past month, sitting in the quiet nursery and rocking the children to sleep by myself, I have come to see that we—Viv, Huntley, Mama, Papa, myself, even our friends—might have made you feel that way through the years. I always thought you so sure of yourself, truth be told, too sure. But talking to you at the house a bit ago, when you told me that you were fleeing to the country rather than staying to make a life for yourself somewhere you love, I realized that you are not sure of yourself at all.”
Freddy’s mouth slipped open and her mind turned over her sister’s words.
Guinevere squeezed Freddy’s shoulder. “What do you remember most about childhood?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Freddy said, “the wordsdo stoplinked with my name.”
Guinevere bit her lip. “Yes, that’s what I recalled, as well. How often we would all say, ‘Freddy, do sit still.’ ‘Freddy, do stop chattering.’ ‘Freddy, do stop humming.’ ‘Freddy, do stop running.’ ‘Freddy, do be quiet’—especially when Vivian was ill.”
Freddy’s stomach tightened. “Yes,” she said, her voice quiet, and a flush heating her as she recalled when Vivian was at her most ill, and her family at their most cross, the scoldings became more severe and frequent. That was when she started to feel like there was something wrong with her, that she did not truly belong in her family, and then later, when she made her debut, that she did not belong in theton.
Tears filled Guinevere’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Freddy. You were different from the rest of us—more boisterous, exuberant, talkative, more ofeverything, especially full of life—and I think, for my part, I was a tad jealous. I know Viv was, as well, being ill and unable to be so lively, and I think Mama and Papa simply didn’t know how to contain you, so we all had a hand in making you feel there was something wrong with you.”
Freddy inhaled a sharp breath. She had felt that way, as if she were odd and out of place, and she had hated thinking she might never feel like she belonged. So she had made it about Mayfair and eventually set her sights on living in Covent Garden. Her pulse skittered. No place or person could ever make her feel like she belonged. Only she could do that by accepting herself and loving herself, even if Gabriel never did.
“I don’t want you to go to the country to await your child or to live there permanently, as you suggested earlier. You’d be miserable there.”
“Yes, I would.” Freddy sniffed and wiped at her cheeks, which suddenly had warm tears rolling down them. “I never expected to fall in love,” she whispered to her sister.
“Whyever not?” Guinevere asked.
“Because,” Freddy said, admitting something out loud she had only just truly understood, “I couldn’t see how someone would ever possibly love me, so I convinced myself I wasn’t interested in love, only in living somewhere I was accepted and felt I belonged. And then along came Gabriel, and I fell in love with him.”
Guinevere hugged Freddy. “You’re more than worthy of love.”
Freddy rested against her sister’s comfortable shoulder for a moment. “If only Gabriel would see that he can love again.”
“Well, he won’t be made to see that if you run off to the country.”
Freddy straightened and wiped her cheeks. “Quite right. I’ll be staying.”
“That’s my Ferocious Freddy.”
Freddy grinned. “I quite like that.”
Her sister winked at her. “I thought you might. Now, what do you think you’ll do about Beckford?”
Freddy inhaled a long, deep breath, a sense of calm falling over her. “First, I’m going to fix a problem for him, which I hope might help matters, and then I’ll continue to fight for him. For us.”
“That sounds about right,” Guinevere said.
Yes.Freddy smiled.Yes, it does.
Chapter Twenty-One
Getting out of the house and past Gabriel’s guards went exactly as Freddy, Blythe, and Huntley had planned. Blythe and Huntley staged a row upon exiting the home while Freddy slipped out one of the windows. The three of them met on the corner of the street behind the house and then made their way together to the orphanage.
They were well ahead of the appointed hour that Hawk was to arrive, but they took care entering the dark orphanage. Huntley went in first, pistol raised, and crept from room to room to ensure no one was there waiting for them. Once he signaled all was clear, Blythe and Freddy entered. They went to the hiding spot by the window that Blythe had told Freddy about, which Blythe and Huntley had decided was the best option after visiting the orphanage several times. Huntley positioned himself belowstairs as Blythe and Freddy kept lookout.
Freddy’s breath came out in white circles in the cold night air, and she shivered as she crouched by Blythe. To her left, something scampered and scratched, making her skin crawl, and to her right, water trickled from some unseen spot. She soothed herself by counting Blythe’s inhalations, so when Blythe suddenly seemed to stop breathing, Freddy’s heart stammered.
“He’s here,” Blythe whispered.
Freddy glanced out the window, and Hawk walked through the heavy fog that had descended looking more like a ghost than a man. Blythe gave out a whistle to alert Huntley, and then she and Freddy rose and moved silently down the stairs to position themselves at the foot of the staircase deep in the shadows. If Huntley had any trouble overtaking Hawk, they would aid him.
