Page 43 of Unchaining the Heart of the Marquess
“No, but Grandfather did.”
The Duke nodded his head. “That does not surprise me. Your grandfather did always view such matters in a different light than his peers.” He spoke as though such things were not to be desired.
“I am sure that having Aunt Rebecca opened his heart to those outside of the socially acceptable circle ofle bon ton.I am grateful for that aspect of his character, Father. It is not a flaw to have compassion for those less fortunate.”
“I do my Christian duty for the poor on the appropriate days,” the Duke retorted indignantly.
“Yes, you never miss a Boxing Day or Saint Thomas Day.” Knowing his father would not understand his desire to help the poachers by choosing not to blackmail them into speaking about the Duchess, Frederick decided to change the topic of discussion. “I will have a new pane of glass ordered for Mother’s window.”
“Yes, that would be best.” The Duke stared down at his wife’s face with a mixture of concern and hurt upon his face. Frederick knew that his mother’s behavior was difficult for all concerned, but especially on his father who was left to think the best and worst of his wife simultaneously.
Frederick nodded. “I will give you some time alone. Fear not for her safety. I have guards surrounding the manor house.”
“Thank you, my son, for your efforts.”
Frederick left the room and went down to the library where he found Lt. Buckworth sitting by the fire staring at a chess board. “Considering a game?”
The lieutenant looked up and smiled. “I was contemplating a game against myself, but would much prefer a worthy opponent if you are up for it.”
“Of course. It would serve as a much-needed distraction.” Frederick poured them each a brandy then sat down across from Buckworth.
“How is the Duchess?”
“Sleeping.”
“She was given quite a scare.”
“Yes, she was.”
“We will find the scoundrel who did this, Your Lordship.”
“There are so many unanswered questions.”
“All will be revealed in time, My Lord.”
“Yes, it is my dearest hope it is revealed before it is too late.”
“I will go out and look for signs of the intruder in the daylight upon the morn, but chances are any sign there might have been will have been covered up by our own men trampling it under foot.”
“It cannot be helped, but I appreciate your efforts.”
The men played well into the night. When Frederick retired, he slipped into Josephine’s room. Greeves had been called upon to serve his duty as guard. Mrs. Merton slept in the chair beside the bed. Frederick sat down on the edge of the bed and took Josephine’s hand in his own. He brushed the hair back from her face and watched her chest as it rose and fell with every wheezing breath. He removed the damp cloth from her forehead and dipped it in the bowl of water on the side table.
Josephine groaned in discomfort as he placed the cool cloth back on her forehead. Her eyes fluttered, and she peered up at Frederick through shuttered lids. “Rick,” she whispered, through dry, cracked lips.
Frederick reached for the cup of water by the bed and placed it against her lips. “I am sorry I was not here, Jo.”
“Your mother?” she croaked out.
“She is sleeping. We shall see what she has to say upon waking in the morn.” He explained to her everything that had happened since last they spoke.
Josephine listened silently until he was done, then squeezed his hand in sympathy. “You will figure it out,” she whispered. The few words she spoke seemed to take what little energy she had remaining.
Frederick’s heart constricted in his chest as he gazed down upon her pale, wasted features. “Jo, I am so sorry that this has happened to you.”
Josephine shook her head. “Do not worry about me,” she wheezed in an attempt to console him.
“I could no sooner stop worrying about you than I could blot out the sun,” Frederick answered. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it softly.
