Frederick stood up in concern. “What has happened?”
“I was not made privy to the details. I was commanded to retrieve you as quickly as a horse could carry me,” Mr. Tatham replied, compassion for Frederick plain in his eyes.
Frederick nodded his head and handed the letter he had been writing to Mr. Hanson. “Please see that this gets to the magistrate. Send any replies to Chescrown.” Turning to Mr. Tatham, Frederick met his eyes, “Let us go.”
The two of them rode to Chescrown as swiftly as they could. Upon their arrival, Frederick leaped from his horse and threw the reins to Mr. Tatham. He entered the house and was met by the butler, Mr. Johnson, in the hall. “The Duchess is in her bedchamber. The doctor is with her now.”
Frederick took the stairs two at a time, traversing the corridor with long strides. He found his mother in bed, pale and weak. His father and the doctor stood by her bedside. “My apologies for not being here sooner. We rode as quickly as we could.”
“It is understandable, considering the distance between the estates,” the Duke answered. “Come, Frederick, where we can talk without disturbing your mother further.”
Frederick followed his father out into the corridor. The Duke handed him a folded piece of paper. “Read this.”
The Duke waited silently as Frederick read the note. It was addressed to his mother. “What does this mean?‘I know what you have done, and I will see that your deeds are revealed. Your life is coming to its end.’What could Mother have possibly done to warrant such a threat?”
“Nothing. I know your mother better than any other person in England. She has nothing to hide. I cannot imagine what the letter is referring to, nor can your mother. The threat to her life was more than she could bear, and she fainted. It was quite a shock to be verbally accosted in such a way.” The Duke ran his hands through his hair in frustration and worry. He handed Frederick another note, this one addressed to the Duke. It read,‘Your wife lied to you.’
“Mother would never,” Frederick protested.
“No, she would not. Someone wishes to do our family harm. It would be best if we stay together here at Chescrown. The journey from here to Pentford leaves you open to harm. We do not know what we are facing.” The Duke’s face was creased with worry. He looked more tired than Frederick had ever seen him.
“I am dealing with a pressing issue at Pentford. The search for the poachers took a particularly mysterious turn. I will tell you about it when things have quieted down but suffice it to say, I cannot remain here at Chescrown. I will stay the night to ensure that all is cared for in regards to Mother’s safety before I return to Pentford.” Frederick laid a reassuring hand on his father’s shoulder.
“How can you leave us at a time such as this?” His father asked perturbed. “As my heir, your loyalty should be to Chescrown.”
“Father, my loyalty belongs to both estates, as you well know. I would not leave here were the situation at Pentford not dangerous and just as worrisome. We will ascertain who is threatening Mother and bring them to justice. I have a man, a soldier, I have hired at Pentford to aid in capturing the poachers. Perhaps he would be able to assist with this as well.” Frederick attempted to console his father, but the Duke would have none of it.
“Your mother is more important than a herd of deer, Frederick,” the Duke chastised.
“The poachers held me and my men at gunpoint, Father. I will not leave my men in harm’s way, without being there to do all I can to keep them and grandfather’s legacy safe. You have any number of men already here at Chescrown to aid in Mother’s protection. I will return as soon as I am able.” The Duke waved off Frederick’s words as if they were nothing, then turned and rejoined the doctor at his wife’s bedside.
“How is she?” Josephine’s voice asked from the hallway behind him.
He turned to find her eyes filled with tears. He closed his mother’s bedchamber door so that his parents would not hear them. “The doctor is with her now. I won’t know anything until he is done. What happened?”
“The Duchess received a letter, opened it, then fainted, hitting her head on a table. I was there, but I could not get to her before she fell.” Tears spilled onto her cheeks as she spoke. “If I had only caught her.”
“It was not your fault, Jo.” He took her into his arms and let her cry against his chest. The warm wetness soaked through his shirt onto his skin. The sound of her sobs broke his heart, and he longed to take the fear and guilt from her. “Truly, Jo, there is nothing you could have done.”
Their private moment was interrupted by the clearing of a masculine throat. Frederick looked up to find a man he did not recognize standing in the corridor watching them. “Who are you?” Frederick demanded to know. He shielded Josephine with his body, placing himself between her and the man.
“Owen Greeves, My Lord. I am the new footman. Mr. Johnson said you might need my assistance.” Frederick did not like the admiring look in the man’s eyes when he looked at Josephine.
“Yes, I would like to speak with each of the household staff in the library downstairs. Please follow me to the library,” Frederick instructed, releasing Josephine. “I will come and find you later, Jo.” Josephine nodded, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “I will be scrubbing blood from the floor in the drawing room.” Frederick nodded, then turned to lead Owen Greeves down the stairs.
“I find it interesting, Greeves, that my mother and father begin receiving threatening letters just as you join our household,” Frederick noted, studying the man’s eyes to see if there was a reaction to his words.
“I would suspect the new man as well, Your Lordship, but I can assure you that it was not I.”
“How did you come to hold a position here at Chescrown?” Frederick asked, taking a seat at his father’s desk. He pulled out writing materials and placed them in front of the footman.
“My aunt, Mary Stone, is the cook. She procured the position on my behalf,” Owen Greeves explained.
“Do you know how to read and write?” Frederick asked.
“Yes.”
“Write what I tell you,” Frederick instructed. The footman nodded in consent and picked up the pen. Frederick pulled the notes from his pocket and read aloud, “Your life is coming to its end.”
