181

Isabella

Frederick looked at me with guarded eyes and a face that seemed to hold information. His mouth was set in a hard line, and his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. "Do you love her?" I asked him again, and this time he shook his head fervently. "So, why did you help her?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his eyebrows still knitted together.

"I see," I said as I sipped the tea brought by the manor staff. "When are you moving out, Frederick?"

"Moving out of where? I find that look of confusion on your face to be simply remarkable," I said with a giggle as I set down the teacup. His face looked puzzled, then his eyes widened in recognition, and his face colored pink with embarrassment.

"I don't understand what you mean by moving out," he said.

"You're in my house, Frederick. My parents' house. Whether or not you have a place to live is of no consequence to me. I generally don't want you here." I lifted the cup again to my face and took a sip.

He look