The image of Timmy came to his mind, and he tried to banish it. But he was unable to do so. Timmy’s eyes seemed to bore into his mind, reminding him of what he had done. How could he have killed someone so young? He had stripped Timmy of his future.
The door opened and Roswell stepped into the room. In a hushed voice, he said, “I just received word that Caleb is awake.”
Fredrick rose and approached his brother. “Let’s go,” he said. They had much they needed to discuss with Caleb, and he wasn’t getting much done here anyways.
After they departed from their mother’s bedchamber, Roswell asked, “How is she?”
“The same, I suppose,” Fredrick replied as they started walking down the corridor. “She was asleep the entire time I sat by her bed.”
Roswell frowned. “She is sleeping more and more now. I can’t help but wonder if the end is near.”
“The doctor believes so, but I am not quite ready to say goodbye,” Fredrick said.
“Neither am I, but I am just a stranger to her now,” Roswell admitted.
“As am I.”
Roswell’s eyes held compassion. “It is a terrible feeling to be forgotten, but I have reconciled with the fact that it is not Mother’s fault.”
“I just wish I had come home from the war earlier,” Fredrick said.
“No, you don’t,” Roswell countered. “Sometimes, I feel that your heart is still with the war effort on the Continent.”
Fredrick grew quiet. “You aren’t wrong. I miss my comrades,” he admitted. “I am doing nothing of importance here, while my friends are risking their lives to keep England safe. I feel like a failure.”
“I daresay that Caleb would disagree with you since you saved him from certain death yesterday,” Roswell remarked.
They started descending the stairs when Fredrick admitted, “I don’t know where I belong right now. I feel lost, alone, and all I feel is misery.”
“You need a wife.”
Fredrick looked heavenward at that ridiculous remark. “I need no such thing. In fact, that would only complicate matters.”
Stopping in the entry hall, Roswell turned to face him. “I used to be where you are and Anette helped me through the pain. She gave me a second chance at life, and I do not intend to take it for granted.”
“I appreciate what you are trying to do, but I do not want to take a wife,” he asserted.
“You need an heir.”
With a shake of his head, Fredrick responded, “You are my heir.”
“No offense, but I do not want to be a marquess. I would prefer if you settled down and had a bushel of children.”
Carson entered the entry hall and announced, “The coach is out front, my lords.”
They left the townhouse and entered the coach. It was only a short distance to Caleb’s townhouse and it wasn’t long before they were standing in front of the main door.
The door was opened, and the butler greeted them politely. “Good morning,” he said, opening the door wide.
“Where is my wife?” Roswell asked.
“She is in the parlor with her brother, Mr. Bolingbroke,” the butler informed them. “If you wait here, I will announce you.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Roswell responded, as he started towards the parlor.
Fredrick followed his brother into the room, attempting not to react when he noticed Caleb sitting on a settee. His face was terribly bruised and swollen.
Anette had risen from the settee when she saw Roswell. “My love biscuit,” she greeted. “I see that you got my message.”