Page 41 of Unchaining the Heart of the Marquess
“Son?”
“I have lost them both.” Tears burned his eyes. He had never felt so helpless or alone than he did at that moment standing in his childhood home.
“You have not lost your mother. She loves you. The doctor says that she is suffering from female hysteria and that with time and rest it should pass. He informed me that it is not uncommon for women of your mother’s maturity. Give her time, my son.”
“What if we do not have time? What if the threats are acted upon before we can ascertain the source in order to stop them?”
“She is here at home, surrounded by guards and servants. No one can harm her, my son. This worry is not good for you. I should not have involved you in this. It was unwise of me to do so. I was simply too upset to think clearly and wished to share the burden. I was wrong to have done so. Go and rest from your journey. We will speak more later over tea in the library. I think it would be best if you remained here at Chescrown out of your mother’s view for the time being now that you are receiving your own letters.”
“I cannot simply cease my inquiries, Father. This matter must be laid to rest.”
“Then let your Lt. Buckworth do so. You are my only son, the sole heir to my Dukedom. I cannot risk your life for the sake of anyone, even your mother.”
“You know as well as I that as a man of honor I could no sooner ignore a threat against my own mother in order to protect myself than you yourself could. It is an unfathomable request, Father.”
“And as a man of honor do you not owe your father the obedience of an heir? You are a nobleman in your own right and as such have the power to make your own decisions, but before you do, please remember that you hold more than your own future at stake. If you were to die, then both Pentford and Chescrown would fall.”
Frederick sighed in frustration and raked his fingers through his hair. “This cannot stand Father. There is something important that Mother is not telling us and her refusal to be forthright is putting us all in danger.”
“You should not speak of your mother in such a fashion, but unfortunately I am beginning to agree with you. What have you learned thus far?”
Frederick relayed everything he had learned while he was in Scotland and everything that had happened with the Evans brothers. “We are missing something, Father, and I know Mother holds the key, but why she will not aid me in her protection, I do not understand.”
“I will attempt to speak with her again myself. Perhaps she will be more forthcoming now that you, too, are receiving missives. I cannot imagine your mother doing anything that would cause such a thing to happen, nor to feel guilt over a mere maid’s death that was not her doing. It was the maid’s job to travel with her mistress. There is no blame to be had there, no matter what her family may believe.”
Though Frederick had lived with the prejudices of his class his entire life, it bothered him to hear his father speak of the maid and her family in such a way now. He thought of Josephine lying sick in her bed and how easily such a thing could have happened to her. It turned his stomach to think of how little regard her death would mean to his parents and yet it would mean the end of his world.
Overwhelmed, frustrated, and angry about everything that had happened, as well as frightened for Josephine’s life, Frederick closed his eyes as if to will it all away. Sighing, he opened them. “As you wish. I will wait for your word.” His father nodded and returned to his mother’s bedchamber. Frederick attempted to look in on Josephine once more but found the door closed. Not wishing to disturb her rest, he exited the house and walked down to the stables.
As he walked, he could almost hear what Josephine would have said about the situation. ‘She was more than just a maid, Frederick. She was a person like you or me.’She had always had her own views on such topics of discussion. In many ways, she had made him a better man, a more compassionate man. It was her guiding voice that he heard now and that urged him ever forward in facing whatever truths lay behind recent events.
The image of her ghostly pale features flashed before his eyes. He had never seen her in such a state, and it worried him. His heart ached to be by her side holding her hand. Reaching the stables he found Mr. Tatham brushing down his and the lieutenant’s horses. “Good to have you home again, Your Lordship.”
“Thank you, Mr. Tatham. ‘Tis good to be home. Much has transpired since last we spoke.”
“Yes. I was sorry to hear of Miss Merton’s illness. The poor girl is fading away before her mother’s eyes. That young footman Greeves has taken an interest in her care. I believe I misjudged the lad. If she pulls through, it will be because of him.”
Frederick shuffled around uncomfortably at the stableman’s words. On the one hand, he was grateful to Greeves for caring for Josephine in his absence. On the other, he was so full of jealousy for the friendship between Greeves and Josephine that he was ashamed of himself. “I am glad that she has had someone capable to care for her.”
Sensing Frederick’s feelings on the matter, Mr. Tatham changed the subject. “How are things at Pentford?”
Frederick filled him in on everything that had transpired since his leaving Chescrown and his mother’s reaction to his time in Scotland. “She is hiding something, Mr. Tatham. I just know it.”
A myriad of emotions crossed the stableman’s face, and at one point, Frederick was fairly certain that Mr. Tatham had tears in his eyes. “A sad story to be sure, My Lord. I hope that you are able to discover the truth and gain some peace concerning the matter.”
“As do I, Mr. Tatham. As do I.”
The two of them stood and talked for some time about various topics in an attempt to distract Frederick from his worries until the sun began to fade from the sky. Bidding the stableman a good night, Frederick returned to the house. Changing for supper, he met his father and Lt. Buckworth in the dining room.
“Did you speak with Mother?”
“Yes, I did, but without success. I fear your mother is near the brink of insanity. She ranted and raved, throwing things about the room. I fear I was forced to run from the room until she calmed herself. I have instructed the maid to administer another of the doctor’s sleeping draughts. I am sorry Frederick, but for your mother’s sake I must forbid you entry to her chambers for the time being.”
“Yes, of course, Father. I am sorry to have upset her so.” Frederick could not believe the change in his mother’s behavior. Once a steady noble lady of impeccable character, the Duchess had become volatile. It was incomprehensible, and Frederick felt the loss keenly.
“Whatever happens, we cannot let word of this get out. The scandal would be unbearable. I hope we can count on your discretion, Lt. Buckworth?” The Duke pointedly looked at the man they guested.
“Yes, of course, Your Grace. You may count on me for the utmost discretion in all matters.”
