Brooke had recently decided to confront the Dustins.
One last time, before their painful end that she was planning caught up with the two Earls of Ireland.
She wanted to know, to find out if they were sorry for what had happened, if they had any regrets, if their last sentence of suffering could be taken for granted.
So she gathered in the common room, in the silent company of Dickon Dustin.
William had not made himself available and for this reason the woman felt advantageous in being able to have a face-to-face confrontation with Dickon.
He had betrayed the rebels for the royals, he had betrayed their ideology, their morality, but most of all the trust that Brooke had always found for her peer.
Dickon knew this, he knew he was a coward in that situation, Brooklyn understood it.
They were both sitting, facing each other, they did not speak, their gazes were not even crossed as the Earl insisted on not wanting to raise his eyes to her.
Brooke was looking at his face.
His brown eyes, which seemed wet, sad, his pale face which at that moment had taken a turn of slight redness, contrasting with the dark freckles that stained his cheeks.
The precious D of white yarn that on the right side of his white shirt, there was no doubt that she was talking to the right Dustin.
-How do you feel, Dickon?- she asked him, already knowing that he felt partly guilty of the murder -you didn't shoot, right? What are you worried about then? You were just part of a little theatre, just a puppet, in the hands of your brother...-.
Dickon didn't take all of his sarcasm well, but he had to admit how he really felt right now, he couldn't keep it all inside him anymore.
-I'm...sorry- he replied biting his lower lip hard, almost aggressively, as if he wanted to punish himself for what happened.
On the other hand, Brooklyn sat, with her legs crossed, in a manner so disheveled of someone who has now lost the motivation.
She would never have granted him this victory, never in his life, the death of his best friend, Brooke had seen him die in her own arms and she cared for him more than anything else.
-You can spare these words, you could have done a lot for Francis, you could have saved his life, you could have tried to stop your brother instead of staying there doing nothing...- Brooklyn scolded him severely.
Dickon looked up, looked at her face for a few seconds, looked at the beautiful light brown color of her skin, illuminated by the sunlight, her big blue eyes.
She felt deeply disappointed in his behaviour.
-You also knew that Francis did not take drugs and you knew well that it was not he who overdosed your cousin Abigail...-.
Dickon nodded sadly.
It was true, he too seemed to know that everything William had suspected was false, he knew Francis too well and he knew that he was idealistic and irreproachable.
-I couldn't... I could not stop him, William is...he's my brother- a stammered whisper came out of the Earl's dry thin lips, making him detest with that statement for his cowardice.
-He is your brother and this has no weight on your life, you have a brain of your own, a heart of your own, an ethic, a morality, William is only a killer, yet, even after the death of your beloved Francis you continue to faithfully follow his footsteps...- Brooke scolded him again more unnerved as at that last statement, she abruptly got up from the soft and precious upholstered chair in the common area.
-If kinship does not really matter to you, explain to me, how come you continue to want Gilbert's revenge, say, wasn't he too, your half-brother?- Dickon started talking again, as more, those questions and reproaches were putting in a position to be able to respond.
Brooke was shortly speechless, it was true what he said, but her brother had never killed anyone, not like William Dustin, he was the only one who deserved death for what he had done.
-I will tell everyone that your brother, your identical twin is a killer, as soon as I get the chance!- Brooke walked over to him, grabbed his shirt tightly, squeezed it, she wanted to hurt him.
What happened to Dickon? It had never been like this in the past.
Was it possible that his brother had managed to brainwash him?
He smiled mockingly.
The young Earl shook his head, squeezing her wrist tightly.
-How naive...Brooklyn...- he said pushing her away.
Brooke saw fear in the man's eyes, he was scared, terrified, full of anger and sadness.
It was possible that all that aggression was nothing more than a sick self-defense system.
-If you only try to reveal this secret, it will be trouble for you, when the rebels discover that a person, so respectable, holds such a great value in her womb...and I mean...you know what I'm talking about...what you are trying to hide from everybody-.
At that statement Brooke was struck by shivers, by fear, no one had revealed her secret, how could Dickon know anything.
He would not have dared in every way, he could not have revealed such a great secret or the esteem for her would have dropped to a minimum putting a drastic end to her and the revolution.
The threat was so great, so risky, that the Earl knew perfectly well Brooklyn would never open her mouth again on that fact, nor would she ever provoke him again.
She was amazed by that statement, she realised that she could not do anything against him.
Dickon loved that feeling, for the first time, the power and fear, he was free yet frustrated.
Brooke was left confused and full of disappointment, as she believed she had Dickon in her grasp when in reality it was he who had her in his power.