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“No, Walter, I’m not married. Even so, it’s too late for us. Too much has happened. I’m in love with someone else.” The desire to have him gone surged through me, followed by fear. I didn’t want him here. How would I get rid of him? Did I tell him about Phillip, or would that make it worse? Why had he come after I was finally happy? And this tall tale of amnesia? I didn’t believe it for a second. Had he deserted his post? I already knew him to be a liar. Perhaps he saw his opportunity to desert and took it.

“Don’t say so, Josephine. Please. I didn’t mean to be away for so long. The moment I remembered who I was, I knew I had to come find you. I knew you’d wait for me. You said so in your letters.”

“I did wait. Even after I thought you were dead, I pledged my eternal love to you. I told my family I was a spinster, having loved only you. I thought no one could measure up to you. All these years, I lived on the memory of those two weeks we had together.”

“See, I knew you’d be here. I knew my faithful Jo wouldn’t let me down. What an epic love story we are.” He smiled as he placed his hands on my shoulders. His expression turned tender. Only now I could see the skillful way he rearranged his features to what he thought I wanted to see.

How had I not seen how fake he was, how practiced in the art of deceit?

He caressed my cheek. I jerked away. I didn’t want his touch. Not the places where Phillip had touched me. My heart belonged to him now.

He continued on as if he hadn’t noticed my rebuke. “We can finally start our life together. Your family, are they well? I’ll finally get to meet them. You can’t imagine how I’ve longed to see you. I couldn’t bear the thought of you with someone else. My greatest fear was to find you married.” He picked up my left hand. His eyes filled as he brought my hand to his mouth. “I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long. The thought of you waiting here for me was all that got me through. You’ll marry me now, won’t you?”

I yanked my hands from his and backed up a few inches. “And my photograph? Do you still have it? Wouldn’t that have sustained you during these long months of separation?” I baited him just to see how quickly he could lie.

The corners of his mouth turned down into a frown. “My love, I dropped it somewhere along the way. I’ve lost more than a lifetime of sleep wondering where it went. If only I could remember the time after I was shot, I might be able to pin down when I lost it. Then at least I could imagine it lying somewhere in France. Waiting for me, just as you did.”

Triggered by the lie about the photograph, a blind fury came over me. “What about the others? The other women who thought you loved them? The ones who thought they were your one and only? Did you lose their photographs, too, or did you leave them behind in the same box where mine was?”

“What other women?” He stared at me with blank, innocent eyes.

“I know the truth. I know I wasn’t the only one who thought you’d return to them. Have you been to see them first? Am I your last stop? Did you work your way west? Were they all married so you came here for one last chance? Your despicable lies pile up one after the other, Walter. I know my photograph wasn’t with you as

you promised.” I held up a hand. “Don’t bother to try to defend yourself. I know everything. Every single thing out of your mouth has been a lie. You were only interested in my wealth.”

“How could you possibly know that?” His voice turned menacing. A glittering anger shot from his eyes. This was the real him. I’m seeing him for the first time, I thought. This is the real man. Dark and twisted. Conniving.

“Know about what? The other women? Or about how you found women with money and then seduced them with your charm?”

“All of it.” He spat the words out as if they were venom.

“Where have you really been all these years? Have you seen all the others first? Am I your last chance?”

His jaw clenched.

I was right. I was his last stop. His last chance to be taken in by an unsuspecting woman. The others had moved on, perhaps married already. He had to come to see if I was still available and charm me into believing whatever lies he’d come up with about his whereabouts.

“Answer my question.” He wrapped his hands around my shoulders and shook me. “How do you know this?”

My limbs went numb as the anger drained from me. I’d provoked him. He was dangerous. A cornered animal. Who knew what he might do?

Fiona. She was in the back. Please stay in the office, I prayed.

He tightened his grip on my shoulders and dug his fingers into the spot just above my shoulder blades.

I yelped with pain.

“How do you know about them?” he asked.

“How does that matter?” The words came out angry when it was really fear that seized me now.

“The only men who knew about the other women served with me in France, and most of them died in the same battle I escaped from. Who survived to tell you this?” His eyes had changed since he walked through the library doors. Instead of playful, they were wild. They reminded me of a feral cat we’d once found in the woods.

“Did you run away? Is the amnesia story a lie like so many of your others?” I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

“Shut up,” he said, spitting.

“How could you walk away from your fellow soldiers? You left them there to die to save yourself.”


Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical