Then he looked back to the boy. Was that…his son?
“I’m fine, Papa,” Frederick said in a trembling voice.
“What the devil do you think you’re doing?” The marquess’ features set into foreboding lines. “I told you to stay put. Where’s Mademoiselle Fournier?”
“She wanted m-me to see the bears. I didn’t want to.” Frederick’s eyes welled.
Coming to her senses, Thea blurted, “It wasn’t his fault. The governess was trying to abduct him. She had apistol.”
“What?” Tremont’s voice turned dangerously hushed.
“She ran off in that direction.” Thea pointed toward the trees—and realized she still held the governess’ handkerchief. “She dropped this.”
He took it from her, his jaw tightening. His muscles bunched beneath the blue superfine of his jacket. “Stay here with Frederick,” he said tersely. “I’ll take a look—”
“Papa, I don’t feel well…”
Thea’s gaze flew to Frederick. An alarming flush had crept over the boy’s face. He weaved unsteadily on his feet, and Tremont caught him before he hit the ground. Cradled in his father’s arms, the boy gasped, his head turning to one side, eyes rolling back in his head. His thin limbs began to shake.
Chapter Three
“Hang in there.” Gabriel walled off his inner chaos, keeping his voice calm and steady even though he knew his son couldn’t hear him. He held on tightly to Freddy’s small, jerking body. “It’ll be over soon, I promise.”
“What can I do?” Thea’s gentle voice reached him. She’d knelt on Freddy’s other side. Beneath the brim of her bonnet, her hazel eyes were bright with worry.
“There’s nothing to do but wait,” Gabriel said tersely.
Silently, she kept vigil with him, holding Freddy’s hand. His thudding pulse measured the passing seconds.This fit is lasting too long. Why the devil hasn’t it stopped?
An eternity dragged by before the shaking finally ceased.
“P-papa?” Freddy mumbled, his lashes fluttering.
Relief scalded Gabriel’s insides. “I’m here. Rest. You’ve had another spell.”
A feeble moan broke from Freddy’s lips, his chest rising and falling on shallow breaths.
“Thea! We’ve been looking all over—Lord Tremont?” The Duchess of Strathaven approached, followed by her husband and sisters. Her gaze landed on Freddy’s prone figure. “Heavens, what is going on?”
“This is Lord Frederick, Tremont’s son. He isn’t feeling well,” Thea said, her manner blessedly discreet. “We must get him to safety as soon as possible.”
“I’ll get the carriage.” Strathaven paused, frowning. “Tremont, when did you return to Town? Where are you staying?”
To fund much-needed improvements to his country estate, Gabriel had sold his townhouse in London a while back. Strathaven, being his business partner and friend, knew about his financial circumstances. In fact, it was thanks to the duke’s brilliant investment schemes that Gabriel had made significant strides toward recovering his fortune in the last year.
“I’ve taken rooms at Mivart’s. We were only to stay for the weekend.” His chest tightened. “It is Frederick’s birthday, you see, and he wanted to see the gardens.”
“A hotel’s no place for a convalescence. You’ll come stay with us.” Strathaven’s ducal tone brooked no refusal. “I’ll send for my personal physician to see to your boy.”
“I don’t wish to inconvenience—”
To Gabriel’s consternation, Strathaven’s broad back was already fading into the distance.
“Don’t mind him. His Grace likes to have the last word,” the duchess said.
“I’m s-sorry to cause trouble,” Freddy said. “Please don’t be angry, Papa.”
“I am not angry.”Not at you.
