Page 47 of Hazard a Guest
“Yes.”
Freddy sighed again. “Why? Why does it matter? She doesn’t love me anymore.”
“Freddy,” said Joe, impatient but not loud, “I don’t think it would matter if she didn’t.”
At that, Freddy raised his eyes, a look of raw pain and hope muddled on his features.
“She saw those dice,” Joe continued, patting his pocket. “She saw them on the first night I played and she looked like she’d been slapped. Why? Why did she look like that, Freddy?”
He made a sound, something between a scoff and a humorless chuckle. “I finally get you to call me by my name,” he said, “and it’s in reprimand.”
“Freddy,” Joe said again, not moving, not changing.
He let the clock tick. He let the branches tap the windows. He let Freddy breathe. Rushing him would only harm him and perhaps harm the truth too.
It took a moment for Joe to realize the other man was crying. It was a quiet thing, silent. Just tears pooling on the lower lids of his eyes, just a hitch in the breaths he was taking.
It almost made him abandon the ask. It almost wasn’t worth it, to hurt him when he had never harmed Joe in any way. Not once.
He pushed away from the door and walked to the other end of the bed, sitting on the corner opposite to Freddy. He didn’t look at him. He focused on the carpet at their feet, willing to wait as long as necessary for Freddy to be ready.
It was a confrontation, yes, but it was also a gift that Freddy was willingly giving. Joe would not take that for granted.
It only took a moment. When he spoke, he sounded almost like another man. Hollow. Away.
“You know I’ve done unforgivable things,” Freddy began. “You know about Dot. About Claire. What I did to Ember was worse, but it was all connected, all at once.”
Joe nodded, but he didn’t look up. He knew it wouldn’t help if he did.
Freddy drew a shaking breath. “I was drowning in it. I couldn’t stop. I hated the idea that I might need to stop. Silas was away on some case or another, unable to stop me or to help me. I have a lot of money tied up in my father’s legal bindings, control from beyond his cold grave. He knew I couldn’t be trusted with it. No access to the fortune beyond a yearly allowance, until I married and produced an heir. That was the bequest. That was his final curse.”
He pushed himself off the bed, landing hard on his feet, and began to pace. “So I had to get married. Fine. I didn’t want to stop rolling the dice, but I needed to pause. I needed to change tack just long enough to be whole again. So I asked Ember to take the dice and not to give them back until I was settled. She agreed. I trusted her. She trusted me. Then I went out and I found Dorothy Fletcher. It was all exactly as I wanted it to be. It was easy. Perfect.”
Joe frowned.
“I couldn’t have anticipated Claire. I couldn’t have known that I’d host a soiree to celebrate my engagement and an angel would descend from the staircase and ruin my life. I didn’t think I could fall in love, and then moments later, I couldn’t remember ever not being in love with her. It was a disaster, Joe. It was horrible because she felt it too. It was like the universe put us in one another’s way. It doomed us as it blessed us because I was involved. Because it was me.”
He spun around. He leaned down. He forced Joe to meet his eye. “I had to have her. I was possessed. It would have been worse to marry Dot while loving Claire. You see that, don’t you? Worse.”
Joe only blinked. He only blinked because he could not see it. He couldn’t comprehend it. It sounded like a horror.
But that was enough for Freddy. Freddy nodded like he’d received an affirmation. “Right. So I was going to elope with her. To take her away from London and figure it out. It was the only thing to do. But I had no money, Joe. I needed the dice and I needed a loan. So I went to get them.”
They shared a breath, a pregnant, stale breath of still air.
“From Ember,” Joe said.
“From Ember,” agreed Freddy. “Bloody Ember who insisted on keeping her word. She wouldn’t … she wouldn’t give them back. She kept shouting at me, telling me to be better. Telling me I had to pay for her roof. Reminding me that we had an agreement. And she would not give them back.”
The tears had come back, Joe realized. They were streaming down Freddy’s face while he ranted, while he paced.
“I lost my mind. I went completely mad,” Freddy confessed, throwing his hands up, raging at it, at the ghost of himself. “I took her jewelry. I took the boxes and pouches and precious things from her rooms. I knew my dice would be in one of them and the rest would pay my way, would give me Claire. I took it all. I kicked over her chairs. I screamed. I made her …” He paused, squeezing his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. “I made her afraid,” he finished. “And I didn’t stop then. I didn’t stop until I got to the Continent and sold every single thing without an ounce of remorse. Everything but the dice.”
Joe watched him. He didn’t trust himself to speak. He didn’t trust himself to move.
“No,” amended Freddy softly. “The dice and the other thing. The thing no one would buy. I don’t even know why she had it. It was a cross made out of dried grass. I keep trying to give it back to her, you know. I brought it. I just … can’t.”
“Made out of grass?” Joe repeated, because it was the only thing to cling to that wouldn’t break him, that wouldn’t shove him over some precipice of emotion. “What do you mean?”
