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“Why do you think I know something about Walter?” I asked.

“Instinct,” Theo said.

“I hate to speak ill of the dead.”

“Go on,” Flynn said.

“Walter Green had more women than Josephine writing to him. All five of them with expectations that when he returned, he would marry them. Like your sister, the other ladies were from wealthy families.”

By the time I finished my diatribe, both men’s complexions had reddened.

“You were witness to this?” Theo asked.

I nodded. “We were together every day. Not much escaped notice.”

“You must tell her,” Flynn said.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Causing her further hurt is the last thing I want. She has an idea of him. One that gives her comfort. Shouldn’t I let well enough alone?”

The twins looked at each other, then back to me.

“This would be the unselfish thing to do,” Flynn said. “But self-sacrifice doesn’t get the girl.”

“I’m sorry to say, I agree,” Theo said. “As her brothers, we’d rather have her know the truth about someone she’s foolishly closed her heart over so that she might be happy with someone else.”

“A man worthy of her love,” Flynn said.

“A man like you, for example,” Theo said.

“You don’t know me,” I said. “What if I’m the same as Walter? Here for the money.”

“Are you?” Theo asked.

“No. I came to see if the girl I fell in love with from her letters was real. Or if my feelings were only a romantic ideal.”

“And?” Flynn asked.

“I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to win her heart. Also, to convince your father and the two of you that I’m worthy of her.”

“Well, all right then,” Flynn said. “Let’s get on with it.”

We were quiet as the twins and I entered the house. No sooner had we taken off our outer jackets than I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye. Josephine stood in the entryway of the sitting room.

“Jo, you’re still up?” Theo asked.

“Yes, I wanted to have a word with Phillip,” she said.

“I’m tired and headed to bed,” Theo said.

“You two behave yourselves,” Flynn said.

Flynn shot me a look before heading toward the stairs with Theo at his heels.

I followed her into the sitting room. The fire had died down to embers. A lantern shed a yellow light.

She stood in front of the fire with her arms crossed over her middle. “I’ve something to ask you, and it can’t wait a moment longer. I want to know how Walter died.”

I inwardly cringed. Knowing few details of his death would certainly frustrate her, as it had me. “What do you want to know?”


Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical