Page 28 of Unchaining the Heart of the Marquess
“No,” she emphatically refused to see reason. She threw the wadded up paper she had been clutching toward the fireplace but missed, sending it bouncing across the room to the Duke’s feet.
The Duke bent over and picked it up. Opening it, he read it then closed his eyes as if in pain. “You should go, my son. There is much your mother and I have to discuss.”
“Yes, Father.” Frederick bowed his head in obedience and left the room. He could not escape the feeling that his world was about to be irrevocably altered.
Frederick stopped at Josephine’s room to inform her of his departure. He found Greeves and Mrs. Merton sitting by her side. Sharing stories about their youth. Josephine smiled through the pain as they laughed in delight at Greeves’ childhood antics. It was a charming sight, and Frederick wished it were he sitting there. He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by another round of laughing.
Not wishing to spoil the moment for Josephine, Frederick walked away, deciding to leave word of his departure with Mr. Johnson. He had just returned home and was now being forced to leave once more. Darkness had fallen across the land, and he was not looking forward to riding all the way to Pentford at night. He regretted not keeping his own counsel pertaining to his mother’s most recent threat.
Frederick walked out to the stables to have his horse saddled. Mr. Tatham was there mending harness. “I will be returning to Pentford.”
“Upon the morrow?”
“Now.”
Mr. Tatham’s eyebrows raised in question. “Is all well, My Lord?”
“I am afraid it is not, Mr. Tatham. I spoke with my mother about the most recent threat.”
“I see.”
“I have been asked to leave Chescrown for a time.”
Mr. Tatham’s brows shot up in surprise as he paused in his work. “The Duchess asked you to leave Chescrown?”
“Yes, she did. Father felt it was best if I did as she requested.”
The stableman’s mouth twisted into a disapproving frown, but he did not say anything more. He moved to saddle Frederick’s horse, frowning the entire time. Frederick knew Mr. Tatham cared for his well-being so did not fault him for feeling as he did. Frederick was rather upset about the entire situation himself.
“The doctor will be arriving before morn to see to Mother.”
“I will see that he is met at the front of the manor house by a groom.”
“Thank you, Mr. Tatham. You are always there when needed, day or night. Your loyalty and diligence do not go unnoticed.”
Mr. Tatham bowed his head in acknowledgement of Frederick’s words. “It is my pleasure to serve you, My Lord.” He finished saddling Frederick’s horse and handed him the reins. “Travel with care.” He laid his hand on Frederick’s shoulder in sympathy. “I will come and retrieve you myself when all has remedied itself.”
Frederick clapped the stableman on the shoulder, mounted his horse, and departed for Pentford. As he rode through the darkness, he had never felt more alone. He had managed to upset both Josephine and his mother, a fact that weighed heavy on his mind. His heart ached that he had alienated the two most important people in his life. He could not help fearing that he was on the verge of losing both of them forever, one to Owen Greeves’ arms, the other to the threats of an unseen stranger.
When he reached Pentford, he made arrangements to speak with Mr. Hanson upon the morrow, then he fell into bed exhausted. As he slept, he dreamed of Josephine floating in the water, an ethereal specter beckoning him to join her as she slowly sank into the deep.
Chapter 15
Josephine drifted in and out of a fevered sleep. Each time she awoke either Owen or her mother were there bathing her brow and whispering encouraging words. She struggled to breathe, and her body felt as though it were on fire. Owen carried her down to the pond to cool her fever several times during the night, each time bringing temporary relief, but the fever always returned. She heard her mother worrying about needing more medicine and Owen promising to find a way to get what was needed.
As the night drug on, she felt as though she was floating between life and death. Each time she sank into the dark depths of her mind, there was Frederick to pull her back out again, then she would open her eyes and see it was not Frederick at all, but Owen. She must have moaned Frederick’s name many times because each time Owen would tell her that His Lordship was no longer at Chescrown, but had left for Pentford.
He left me to die alone.Despair gripped her heart, and she reached out in the darkness to grasp Owen’s hands, to grasp at hope.
* * *
Frederick awoke in a cold sweat, Josephine’s name on his lips. He dreamed she had drowned, and he could not save her, her pale, lifeless body suspended in the darkness. He sat up in bed and swung his legs over the side. His head spun with fatigue and worry. He stood up and washed his face to clear away the fog. A knock sounded on the door, and Mr. Hanson entered. He opened the curtains, allowing light to flood in.
“Your valet from Chescrown has arrived, and Lt. Buckworth awaits you in the library.”
Frederick wrinkled his brow in confusion. Surely they too had not ridden through the night? “How long have I been asleep?”
“The sun has passed its midpoint, My Lord.”
