Page 93 of Yours Truly, the Duke
“Nothing,” Fredericka insisted earnestly.
“This isn’t easy for me, Fredericka.” She spoke softly, reassuringly. “The men will remain with you until I’m gone. It’s best for the children that you don’t put up a fight in front of them.”
“You are trying to take them away from me,” she said fiercely. “You think I’m not going to put up a fight?” Fredericka glanced at the side of the house where the men were standing and then picked up her skirts and rushed for the back door. One of the men was fast and caught her by the arm on the first step.
“Let me go!” She tried pulling away but was no match for his strength and the other man quickly took hold of her other arm and held it behind her back.
Her heart was beating so fast she could hardly speak. “They belong with me.”
“I do hate to see you so upset, Fredericka. I never wanted to win this way. I would have done something like this months ago if I had. We are family. I had no choice when I saw the children in peril.”
“No, not peril,” she pleaded. “It wasn’t.”
“I must ask you again not to create a scene for the children’s sake. And for mine too. I feel one of my headaches coming on and I really must get home and drink a tonic.”
Fredericka sucked in a deep breath and struggled against the strong men again. Jane’s headaches put her in bed for days. That would frighten Bella for sure and probably the other two.
“Jane, wait. I’ll go to the carriage with you and explain what’s happening and why we must do this. Tell the men to let me go.”
Her cousin looked at her for a long moment. She wasn’t gloating, or even triumphant. Just serious. Fredericka thought she might relent.
“They love me, you know,” Jane said. “You’ve never believed it, Fredericka, but they do. I’m not a stranger taking them away forever. You can visit. Often, if you wish.” She turned to the constable. “You can let her go after you hear my carriage drive away.” Jane hurried past them and out the gate.
Fredericka felt as if the world was crushing in on her. What would she do not seeing Bella’s sweet face first thing in the morning? Not hearing Charles taunt his sisters? Not having Elise rush up to her with a tight hug? What was she going to do now that her worst fear had come true? Jane had taken Angela’s children and Wyatt hadn’t been there to stop her.
When the officials finally let go of her, Fredericka swung the gate wide and rushed out.
Jane’s carriage was nowhere to be seen.
CHAPTER 27
DAISY—BEAUTY AND INNOCENCE
—L. H.
A wearied man seeks not the smiles
That brightly beam on all,
For dearer are thy simple wiles
That only one enthrall.
Travel to Oxford yesterday had been long, hot, and uncomfortable. Wyatt usually enjoyed the coach ride whenever he, Hurst, and Rick went out of town together for their tournaments. He wasn’t up for their usual drinking, jokes, jousting, and reliving wild times they’d had through the years. His friends knew something was wrong but had done their best to carry on with tradition.
Wyatt hadn’t wanted to go. Leaving Fredericka with such rancor between them hadn’t been easy, even though she’d wanted him to leave. The coach had hardly made it to the outskirts of London when he knew Oxford was the last place he wanted to be. His life was now with his wife. Not his friends and clubs.
Wyatt had won all the fencing matches of the day. Handily. With the pent-up frustration and anger against himself it had been easy. The Brass Deck had won the cricket competition too. Every player had bruises to prove it. The gentry and Oxford players were never easyon Polite Society. Neither group would have it any other way. Tough wins always made the wager payoffs sweeter.
Wyatt was seated in a private dining room beside a noisy taproom at the inn where he was staying, waiting for Hurst and Rick to join him. Later in the evening, the card tournaments with double elimination rounds would begin and go on all night. It was Wyatt’s best event and where he made the most money.
Ordinarily, he would be ecstatic at how well the members of the sporting club were performing, but he was brooding. A feeling that wasn’t common to him. He didn’t like the way he left things with Fredericka.
Instead of telling her what he felt her problem was with the children, Jane, and her sister and adding he might go back to his old life without her, why hadn’t he’d said,“I love you”? He should have told her the first time they made love. And the second and third. Every time he touched her, he should have told her. That was only one of the many mistakes he’d made with Fredericka. He should have been sensitive to the fact that she was already reeling from the incident with the children and Jane being witness to it.
Why hadn’t he told her why he hated poetry and the word “discipline”? Why hadn’t he asked her to help him slay his own demons rather than point hers out? He’d been such a damned bloody blackguard, he didn’t know if she could ever forgive him.
She had every right to be outraged. He’d been upset too, but his displeasure hadn’t affected the way he felt about her. It took a while to realize that. He was in love with her and should have told her that together they would make sure everything turned out all right. A talk with the children to make sure they understood what they’d done was wrong would have been a good idea too.It was his fault things got so heated between them before he left. And he had to make it right.
