Page 60 of Unchaining the Heart of the Marquess
“I sincerely hope not, My Lord. Perhaps with time, she will return to us.”
“I fear it would take a miracle, Mr. Withers.”
“Then I shall pray unceasingly, My Lord.”
“Thank you, Mr. Withers.”
Footmen arrived with hot water for his bath and Frederick allowed the valet to aid him in his undressing. He slid beneath the water’s steaming surface and laid back with his eyes closed, allowing his aching muscles to relax in its heat. An image of Josephine flashed through his mind, and his heart constricted painfully in his chest. He opened his eyes, but the image lingered.
Oh, Josephine, how will I live without you?
He scrubbed at his skin, washing the dirt away as if he could wash the hurt away along with it. “My Lord?” Mr. Withers inquired with concern toward his master’s behavior.
Frederick stopped scrubbing and sighed. “My apologies, Mr. Withers. I believe I will retire for the night.”
“Very well, My Lord.” The valet handed him a drying cloth, and he stepped out of the tub. He wrapped the cloth around his waist and dismissed his manservant for the night.
Not bothering to don nightclothes, Frederick crawled beneath the bed covers. Staring up at the bed canopy hanging above his head he prayed for sleep to come, begging the heavens for the respite only oblivion could bring. When sleep finally claimed him he was not granted the oblivion he sought but instead was tortured with visions of the woman he loved marrying another man. As they waved goodbye setting out on their honeymoon Frederick stood at the edge of the churchyard, watching her fade away.
Chapter 28
Frederick awoke the next morning feeling as if he had barely slept at all. Josephine had haunted his dreams the entire night, leaving him physically and emotionally drained. It felt as if every bit of joy had been ripped away from his life, leaving nothing but pain and dread. Rising, he resolved not to wallow in self-pity and dressed for the day.
Descending the stairs, he found his father still sitting in the library in the same clothes that he had had on the day before. “Father?”
“Hmmm?” he answered not bothering to turn around and look at his son.
“Have you slept at all?”
“Mmm,” he grunted and Frederick was not entirely certain whether it was to the affirmative or negative.
“You need to sleep, Father. This sitting about, not sleeping or eating, is not good for your health.” His father did not answer him. “Father if you do not take care of yourself, I will be forced to summon the physician.”
The threat of calling the doctor got the Duke’s attention. “There is no need for that.”
“Then please, Father, go eat, bathe, and sleep. Mother will return someday and when she does is this how you wish for her to find you?”
“No, it is not,” the Duke admitted.
“You go and take care of yourself. I will go down to London and look in on the investigation into Mother’s disappearance.”
“No, I want to have you here with me. Send Devon Tatham to confer with Lt. Buckworth. They are both military men, Tatham having been in the navy. They can work together to find your Mother this time. You have been gone long enough. I want my son here with me.”
“As you wish, Father, but you must agree to take better care of yourself.”
The Duke nodded his head and arose from his seat behind the desk. “I will.” He left the room and went to do as promised.
Frederick walked over to the desk and found a pile of crumpled papers on the floor. He bent over and picked one of them up uncrumpling it. The page was filled with his father’s handwriting.‘My Dearest Aurora…’The letters were to his mother. Not wishing to violate his father’s privacy he left the remainder of the papers where they lay and returned the one in his hand from whence he had found it.
Poor Father. I know how he feels.
Leaving the library, Frederick went out to the stables to inform Mr. Tatham of the Duke’s request. He found the stableman training a foal in the paddock. “My Lord,” Tatham greeted. “I see you have returned alone. I take it your journey was unsuccessful in persuading Miss Merton of your love?”
“I am afraid so, Mr. Tatham, but that is not what I have come to speak with you about. The Duke has requested that I remain here at Chescrown and that you go to London to offer aid in Lt. Buckworth’s search for the Duchess.”
Tatham looked up in surprise. “That is not what I expected.”
“No, nor I. Are you amenable to the task?”
