Her lips curved up slightly. "Frederick." My heart felt as if it would burst from my chest. My name sounded wonderful coming from her lips. No one, except my mother of course, had ever called me by my Christian name, and it sounded like angels singing, if I can be so cliché.
"Frederick," she said again, making my heart pound in my ears. Never in my life had I felt such an overwhelming emotion running through me. Never. I wanted Rebecca as mine so it would last forever. I needed it to last forever. Rebecca gently tugged at her hands and removed them from mine. Her face which had once been so full of love and passion turned downcast and she turned so I could not see her fully. "I have something I must tell you."
I know now that I should have been concerned about her sudden turn. I know that I should have questioned it more, but I didn't because, be it ever so silly to you, I trusted her. I had no reason not to trust her. And I loved her — love did strange things to me and I vow never to let it control me ever again.
Love — the most vile of sins.
I heard her words, she had something to tell me, but couldn't grasp anything horrible for there was no way she would or could have done something evil. "Whatever it is, it can wait, Miss Rebecca."
I had my own truth to tell her and I didn't want to sully the night, waste it on petty confessions. We were alone. That was all that mattered.
"No," she said backing away. "No. I must tell you this before we go any farther. I've made…"
But I didn't listen. "Whatever it is, it is fine. I assure you. I am infatuated with you. Nothing you can tell me will change that." Thinking back on the hope in my voice… I was a different person back then.
She took another step back, but I couldn't let her do that. She was slipping away, just when I'd gotten her. Whatever this secret was tore her apart and I couldn't let that happen. I grabbed her arm and spun her to face me. "Don't do this." I held her wrists in my hands. "Please, whatever it is you feel you need to tell me, I don't care. I care about you. I want to be… with you."
"Please stop" She said as a cold tear fell down her cheek. She tried to pull away. I wouldn't let her because I knew… I knew that if I let her go, she would go forever and I couldn't understand why.
"You brought me here," I said, my confusion and fear caused me to tighten my grasp on her wrists.
"I did." Her voice trembled.
"You brought me here because you care for me, as I care for you." It wasn't a question. I knew it… I knew it!
"Frederick," she pulled on her wrists, but I wouldn't let her go. I needed her close to me. Everything seemed so confusing. She had brought me there. She's smiled at me. She had laughed, not at me, but with me. Not two moments before, she loved me and now whatever she had to tell me was breaking us apart? No… no. I wouldn't let that happen. I couldn't.
When I tightened my grip, I saw something in her eyes I never wanted to see. Fear. She was becoming afraid of me, and I couldn't understand why. All I wanted was to be close to her. All I needed was for her to be close to me. And I keep saying it, but I couldn't understand — at the time — why she was acting like this.
"Why did you bring me here?" I asked, not letting go. I couldn't let her go.
"I had to tell you something and I didn't feel it was proper to tell you in front of all those guests or your friends." Her voice quivered in the cold.
"Yes. I know. You had to tell me something. That's why I followed so willingly."
She backed away and I followed, still holding her hands. "You were going to tell me you love me, just as I love you."
"Frederick…" She shook her head, causing the hood to fall from her cloak. "I just…."
Her back hit the railing of the veranda and she had no place to go — no place to escape from her true feelings. "Rebecca," I had never spoken to her so informally. I couldn't help it. Desperate times. I used her hands in mine to tilt her chin up so she could look into my eyes and truly see how much I cared for her. She needed to know and then she wouldn't be so scared. "Rebecca, whatever it is, you have to tell me, it doesn't matter. It is fine. You could have committed the greatest sin of them all, and it would not matter to me."
She whimpered and trembled against me. I took it as a good sign. "Please, don't do this."
I could not fathom what she meant by that. Don't do what? Profess my love? Tell her that her past didn't matter to me because I loved her for who she was now? I ask you, how is that bad?
I smiled as warmly as I could to reassure her. "You have nothing to fear from me, my sweet, sweet Rebecca. I would never hurt you."
Another tear rolled down her cheek and I didn't understand why. I hoped it was a happy tear because she had finally found her match. Did ladies not do that in the storybooks? Did they not cry from happiness when a man came along offering to take care of them — protect them for the rest of their days? Love, security, what more could a woman want?