Page 39 of Unchaining the Heart of the Marquess
“I am sorry for your loss. What did she die from?”
“Pneumonia.”
“Josephine has pneumonia.” Fear tightened his throat and made his heart beat faster.
“Take my advice, My Lord, and tell her how you feel. Societal strictures be damned. Refusing the woman you love out of a sense of pride and obligation will leave you nothing but regret.”
Frederick sighed and leaned back in his seat. “Our journey to Scotland has given me much to consider. I see the wisdom in your words now, far more than I would have before our time there. I am beginning to see that I may have been quite foolish.”
“It is a strong man that can admit when he is wrong, My Lord. Foolishness can be forgiven; she simply needs to hear you say the words.”
Frederick chuckled. “You are a bold-speaking man, Lieutenant. Not many would be brave enough to speak to me as you have. I appreciate your honesty.”
“Always, My Lord.”
* * *
When morning dawned, Frederick and Lt. Buckworth left for Chescrown. The man that Mr. Hanson had sent to Chescrown Manor had fallen off of his horse and been forced to return without making it to finish his errand. He had barely made it back to Pentford. Frederick had no way of knowing how his mother would receive him, but he sincerely hoped that she had calmed since his departure. He was fairly certain that when she discovered what he had been about in Scotland, she would not be calm for very long.
Upon arriving at Chescrown, Frederick dismounted and immediately entered the house in search of his father. He found him in the library and wasted no time in handing him the note. “I am glad to see you, my son, but your mother is no better than when you last spoke with her. The doctor administered her a sleeping draught that she has been taking in copious doses since your departure.”
“I need to speak with her, Father, but it is doubtful that she will be pleased.” He was not sure he should tell his father about Scotland before discussing it with his mother first.
“She is sleeping now, but you may speak with her when she awakens.”
“Thank you, Father.”
“She would not tell me anything either, no matter how much I threatened or cajoled her. Perhaps you will have better success with her now that you have started receiving your own letters. I do not like this, Frederick. I do not like threats to my family.”
“Nor I, Father.” He sat studying his father’s haggard features for a time. He wished he could remove the strain of the situation from his life. “How is Josephine?”
The Duke’s face took on a sad cast. “She is not faring well at all. You should prepare yourself. It is a miracle that she has survived this long. She has been hovering between this world and the next for some time, but somehow she awakens in the morn to face another day of fevered torment. I am sorry, my son.”
“No!” Frederick cried out rising from his seat and racing from the room. He took the stairs two at a time.
Bursting through the door, Frederick was brought up short by the wasted form that lay in the bed before him. Her once vibrant red curls lay plastered to her head with sweat. She had dark circles under her eyes that resembled bruises. Her cheeks that had once been full and rosy were now sunken in. When she breathed the most horrible wheezing sound emerged from her lips as she struggled and fought for every breath.
“Josephine!”
Hearing her name, she stirred restlessly but did not answer. “My Lord?” Mrs. Merton arose from a chair at the side of the bed.
“Mrs. Merton. I am so very sorry that I was not here to aid you with her care. I did not know of the serious nature of her condition.”
“Your presence would not have made any difference, My Lord, but I thank you for your kindness all the same. Mr. Greeves has been invaluable in his care of Josephine.”
“And where is Greeves now?”
“He is in the forest gathering what herbs he can find to aid in Josephine’s care. He has spent every moment diligently fighting the fever. Were it not for him, Josephine would have perished.”
Frederick moved forward and sat down on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb her. He took her hand in his. It felt smaller than it had just days before. A terrible rattling sound emerged from her throat. Her chest fell and then paused, refusing to rise.
You cannot die, Josephine! Please do not die!
Chapter 19
“Josephine!” Frederick reached out and shook her by the shoulders. Her chest rose once more, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Please, My Lord. She needs her rest,” Mrs. Merton requested, clearly distressed by his behavior.
