Chapter 4

Frederic seethed as he paced his study. He couldn't believe this. All that effort, all the time, energy, blood, sweat, and tears wasted. After weeks of tracking the man who'd killed his brother, he was right there.

He could have had them.

The groan he let out seemed to echo through the silent house. His mother was still asleep. Or at least he assumed she was. Even during the day, she tended not to come out of her room much.

He paced the room, rage bubbling inside him. He'd been so close.

It had taken him years just to learn the name of the man responsible. Months to learn his movements, erratic as they were.

This had been the first time he'd managed to get close. He thought that was going to be it. He was going to catch that man.

He was going to get justice for Evan.

But then that woman stumbled out. And what was he supposed to do? Let her get herself killed?

He knew what would have happened if he hadn't stepped in. If they found her… he didn't want to think about what could have happened.

No, he couldn't regret stepping in. He knew he'd made the right choice, even if he did lose his one chance at justice to do it.

Besides, what was he really going to do? There were so many of them. Realistically, he wouldn't have been able to take all of them. All he could have done was tail them and hope for a glimpse of the criminal's face.

He flopped down at his desk with a sigh. She was safe and probably learned her lesson. The best thing he could do now was just get back to work.

The sun was coming up before he made his way to bed. He stole a few hours of sleep before waking up around eight in the morning.

As he dressed in his cream and navy suit, he listened for any sign that Louisa, his mother, was awake and moving around.

When he didn't hear anything, he sighed.

Maybe she was already awake and in the parlor or taking a walk in the garden. Frederic knew it was wishful thinking, but it was early enough in the day that he felt like he was allowed to indulge.

Once he was dressed, he made his way back to his study. As he walked, he passed a footman.

"Have them send my breakfast to my study. I have work to do."

"Yes, Your Grace."

He shut himself in his study for the rest of the day.

No one disturbed him until a little after lunch, when his concentration was broken by a soft knock on the door that he recognized immediately as Louisa's.

"Come in," he said quickly.

The door swung open, and the pale woman entered, her black cotton dress plain even for a mourning gown.

"We've received quite a few invitations for this month. I thought you might want to review them." She held out a stack of envelopes.

Frederic took them with a smile. "Thank you. Did any of them interest you?"

She shrugged. "I don't know if I'll be attending. I'm not feeling very well, and I'd hate to have to cancel last minute."

He tried not to let his disappointment show. He wasn't surprised by her answer, but he always hoped it would be different. He thought getting out would help give her something to focus on other than Evan, but she always declined every invitation.

"Of course, Mother. Why don't you pick a few that you think would be best for me to attend and decline the rest."

"You don't have any preference?"

"You know I trust your judgment."

She huffed. "You know, you should really be looking for a wife."

He forced a smile. It wasn't the first time she brought it up, and he was sure it wouldn't be the last. He couldn't even think about the possibility of marriage until he caught his brother's killer, but he couldn't tell her that.

"I will. I just haven't met the right lady yet."

"And you won't as long as you stay locked away in your study all day. You need to get out more. When was the last time you just went for a walk?"

He shrugged. "A few days ago, I think."

"Was it the last time I forced you to go on one with me?"

"It might have been."

"Then it was almost two weeks ago."

"What? No, that can't be right."

"Freddy, I counted the days before I came here. That's why I was going to ask you to take me on another one."

He hesitated for a moment. On one hand, he still had a lot of work to do, but on the other hand, he couldn't tell her no.

Frederic smiled. "All right, I suppose I should take a break."

"Splendid!" She tugged him outside.

He just smiled. It was good to see her smiling about something, even if it did seem a little forced.

"How has your work been?" she asked as they walked along the cobblestone street. "It seems like you constantly have something that needs your attention."

"There is a lot that goes into being a duke. I just want to make sure I'm doing the best job I can."

It wasn't a lie.

It just wasn't the whole truth. After all, how could he tell her he was hunting for the man responsible for Evan's death? If anyone so much as mentioned his name, she went so still, it was like she was no longer living in her body.

She huffed. "Yes, I remember how much time your father spent working. He still had time to have a family."

"And so will I. Just not yet."

She sighed again. "When?"

"When I meet the right lady."

"Hard for that to happen when you spend all your time alone in your study."

"Then accept more invitations on my behalf."

"If I do, will you go?"

"I'd definitely consider it."

She laughed. "Careful, I may just take you up on that."

He could only hope she wouldn't, but if she did, he would simply have to find the time to go. For the moment, he focused on enjoying the air. As they walked, they talked about how his work was going and what he had been up to. It was intended to be nothing more than a short walk, but he knew his fate as soon as she rounded a corner and saw a small artists' market in the park.

Louisa lit up. "Do you think we can take a stroll? Just see what they have to offer."

"Sure, why not?"

As they strolled through the stalls, it wasn't long until something caught her eye. Louisa gasped. With a dreamy smile, she moved towards a booth selling watercolor paintings, but that wasn't what caught her eye.

Frederic followed her gaze. On a small table in front of the paintings was a sign advertising painting lessons and a few artfully carved pale wooden boxes holding paints, brushes, and paper.

He smiled. "You should get a set. It's been a while since you've painted, hasn't it?"

She jerked back like she'd been burned. "Don't be silly. I was just admiring this man's paintings! I quite like this one." She pointed to a seemingly random painting of a pale blue hummingbird.

She purchased the painting and then turned. "Come along, Freddy. There's so much to see still."

But he turned back to the man behind the stand. "When you send the painting to our estate, throw in one of those watercolor boxes." He slid over the money.

"Of course, Sir. I'll make sure to pick a good one."

He nodded and then chased after her.

When Frederic caught up with her, she frowned. "You better not have done what I think you did."

He chuckled. "And how am I supposed to know what you think I did?"

"Why did you linger at that stand?"

"Someone had to give the poor man delivery instructions, or would you simply have him hauling the painting from door to door all evening?"

She huffed. "I'm sure he would have managed just fine without whatever meddling you were doing."

"Meddling! Mother, you wound me. When have I ever been known to meddle?"

"Honestly, Freddy, you really are a menace."

They ended up spending most of the afternoon walking through the market. The pair purchased a few more paintings and even a sculpture before returning home.

Frederic didn't go back to his study after that. Instead, he waited downstairs until the man from the stand arrived with his delivery. The second the paints were in his hands, he slipped into Louisa's drawing room.

He carefully laid everything out before slipping away. He knew there was a decent chance she wouldn't use the paints.

After all, she hardly painted once his father died. Then Evan passed, and she seemed to lose all interest in, well, everything for so long. More than that, one of the first things she did when she started to get motivated was to donate all of her art supplies to a local school.

So maybe she'd never lay a finger on them. Maybe they would be purely decorative, just something she looked at here and there. Maybe she would just shove them in the back of a drawer and forget about them, out of sight out of mind.

But at least she would have the option.

And maybe one day, something would make her truly happy, and she would paint again.