She arched a brow to show his irreverence meant nothing to her as she replied, “Mr. Hale.”
But the way his lips pressed together as if holding back amusement before he rolled them in against his tongue had her disdainful expression sliding away as more fluttering sensations erupted in her core.
She glanced quickly to the children.
Although Frederick appeared his usual stoic self, Katherine could see the pain in his eyes after he gave Claire a heartfelt embrace. Then he stepped back to allow Hale to scoop the little girl up in his arms.
Cornflower-blue eyes welled with tears as the girl asked, “Fweddie be wight back?”
“I’m afraid not,” Frederick replied simply.
As Claire’s bottom lip extended in a pout that immediately began to tremble, Hale’s expression revealed a deep shadow of helplessness. It was there for just an instant and then gone again, and Katherine felt a brief compulsion to offer some sort of comfort or encouragement. Luckily, the moment passed before she had a chance to embarrass herself as he mumbled something to the girl about Frederick needing to go home.
Understanding that a quick exit might be best at that point, Katherine turned and placed a hand on Frederick’s elbow to lead him from the room. Once in the entry hall, they could hear soft, hiccoughing sobs and Hale’s low, rumbling tones as he tried to soothe the girl’s sadness.
Katherine’s chest tightened with regret, but there was no way to avoid certain partings. Glancing at Frederick, she could see he was doing his best to conceal his emotions behind a firm expression. He’d been through so much.
Chapter Six
The drive to Mayfair was quiet. Though she had her brother safely back in her care, Katherine couldn’t forget everything he’d told her about his abduction.
Or...abductions, rather.
Though Frederick’s cleverness had helped him escape the first kidnappers, his empathy and compassion had kept him in the clutches of the second. A shiver chilled her skin. If not for Hale, she might have lost her brother forever.
The Duke of Northmoor’s London residence was disturbingly quiet when they arrived, as it always was.
For decades, the house had kept a bare minimum of staff—just what was needed to maintain the place. And Katherine hadn’t bothered to hire on more even after they moved in several months ago.
Their father had not been a typical British aristocrat. He’d abhorred politics and disdained London and the society it kept. Considered an eccentric all his life due to his passionately erudite nature, Charles Blackwell had preferred to spend his life and raise his family in relative seclusion at the family seat in Lincolnshire. There, he’d spent the majority of his time in his laboratory in the east wing of their country manor, where he performed various experiments and studies to further his knowledge of herbalism and pharmacology.
With their mother gone and a father who was rather obsessively focused on his work, Katherine and Frederick had experienced an unusually independent childhood.
Katherine’s education was directed by a governess for several years until she outgrew the lessons provided and sought to expand her education via the books in her father’s extensive library and through practical application. By the time Frederick was old enough for a tutor, Katherine felt herself well prepared to take on the responsibility. But her brother soon surpassed her teachings in the way she had her governess’s.
Most people would have been shocked by the Blackwell children’s unconventional educations. But the duke encouraged their independence, likely because it allowed him to focus on his own work, which was far more important.
Katherine and Frederick had thrived in the freedom of their country upbringing, where they’d had unlimited autonomy to roam and explore and simply be. But London was nothing like Lincolnshire.
Katherine understood what had driven her young brother into the streets of a city brimming with energy and life despite its somewhat drab and dreary undertones—such a significant contrast to the ever-spreading greenery and wide-open skies of home.
But the dangers of town couldn’t be underestimated. She’d have to make it clear to Frederick that such risky activities could not continue. Though she honestly hated the thought of it, she needed to start imparting to him the importance of his position as a duke of the realm. Their father had not put much emphasis on his title or social responsibilities, but Katherine had always assumed that when the time came, he would have at least given Frederick the information and resources to decide what kind of duke he wished to be.
Now that responsibility would be hers.
Not tonight, however.
Once home, Katherine directed Frederick up to his room for a long soak in a bath. “When you’ve freshened up, shall we gather in the upstairs sitting room for a light supper?” she suggested. “Afterward, perhaps we could play chess...or we could just talk.”
“I’m sorry, Kit.” His dark eyes quietly implored. “I’m content to be home again, but I think I’d prefer to turn in early tonight.”
Katherine nodded and offered a smile. “Of course.” She remained in the entryway, watching as he made his way up the stairs and noted once again how much more mature he appeared. His steps were surer, his gaze more level, the set of his shoulders stronger. It had only been a couple weeks, yet her brother had changed—inexorably.
The next several days were a struggle of trying to return to some semblance of normality. It became clear rather quickly that Frederick did not wish to talk further on the details of his ordeal, and Katherine did not press. She trusted him to come to her in his own time.
Though she chose not to pry, she did try to interest him in the things he typically enjoyed. The puzzles and mazes he used to spend days creating. The books on historical military strategy they would discuss in heated debate. Or any of the dozens of mechanical blueprints he’d been working on in the last couple years.
Unfortunately, nothing managed to trigger the same spark of inspiration and excitement she used to see so frequently in
