“Even if it were a matter of life and death?”
“Even then.”
Frederick frustrated, resisted the urge to shout at the man demanding him to reveal what he knew. Were he a violent man, he would have beaten the answers out of him, but he was not.
Llewelyn came and placed a hand on Frederick’s shoulder. “If I could tell you I would, but I cannot. I urge you again to ask your mother.”
Frederick was surprised by the man’s familiarity. “Did you send the letters threatening my mother?”
“No, I did not.”
Frederick stared into Llewelyn’s eyes and found no lie waiting there to be discovered, only truth, sympathy, and great sadness. “Very well then. It falls to me to cause her more pain than she is already enduring.”
“And for your sake, I am sorry for it.”
Leaving more frustrated than when he had arrived, Frederick mounted his horse and headed for Chescrown.
* * *
Josephine awoke to find Owen sitting at her bedside, having fallen asleep holding her hand. She blinked her eyes to clear their blurriness. She felt as if there was a great weight on her chest. She struggled to breathe, but it caught in her throat, and she fell into a fit of coughing that made her feel as though she were being ripped apart from the inside out. The sound awakened Owen, and he reached out to soothe her fevered brow with a cool wet cloth.
“Owen?”
“Yes, I am here.”
“What happened?”
“The doctor gave you a sleeping draught to allow you to rest. How do you feel?”
“As though I have a large stone sitting on my chest.” She coughed, punctuating the last word with such force that it brought her body up off of the bed. Her voice was raspy and hoarse, every word causing her pain. Her throat felt as though she had swallowed knives. “Water?”
Owen arose and poured her a cup of water. He held her head up and pressed the cup to her lips. She attempted to swallow, but coughs racked her body once more making it impossible. Owen wiped her face and set the cup down. “I will summon one of the maids to aid you in bathing.”
Josephine reached out and grabbed Owen’s hand. “Thank you for helping me.”
Owen smiled. “Always.”
Josephine watched as he left the room.He is a kind compassionate man. Mr. Tatham and Frederick are wrong about him. He is a good man.
A maid entered and assisted her with her toilette. The necessary experience was painful beyond anything she had ever known. She coughed throughout, and every touch of the cloth on her burning skin felt like a bruise. She had never been so sick in her entire life. Every breath was agony. Her mother entered bringing her a clean night dress. “How are you, dear?”
“I have been better.” Josephine attempted to smile but instead wound up in another fit of coughing.
“I see that.” Her mother reached out and smoothed the hair from her face.
“I feel so foolish. I brought it on myself when I tripped Frederick, and we fell into the pond,” she managed to croak out and then her voice broke. She tried to speak again, but nothing came out.
“You had no way of knowing what would happen. Rest, dear. I will come and look in on you when I have finished my chores.”
Josephine took the medicine her mother handed her and then was left on her own. She lay there staring up at the ceiling. Every time she began to doze off another round of coughs would shake her awake. Tears streamed down her cheeks, burning her eyes. She closed them to ease the discomfort and was startled when she felt a masculine hand wiping the wetness away. She opened her eyes to find Owen standing over her a worried look on his face.
“I heard you from down the hall and could not stay away. No one should suffer so alone. I had another footman take my place guarding the Duchess.”
“I do not want you to get into trouble for my sake by neglecting your duties,” she whispered.
“If there was ever a lass worth being in trouble for it is you, Josephine,” Owen replied, wiping the last of the tears away. “Auntie is making you a strong broth as we speak.” Josephine smiled at his flattery. He offered her another sip of the tea her mother had left by her side. “You rest now. I will be here beside you for anything you might need.”
“They were wrong about you,” she whispered, her eyes closing once more exhausted beyond all measure.
