“Whatever you say, Kit.” Baldwin looked out over the garden again. “Whatever you say.”
Kit ignored the dry delivery and focused instead on the stars overhead. It was only the high emotion of losing his father that was making everything feel so odd. That was making him draw closer to Sarah. There was nothing more to it, no matter what silly stories his friends wanted to say.
No matter what his own tangled dreams tried to tell him.
Sarah glanced at the parlor door with a frown. Kit had been outside for a very long time. He wasn’t alone, of course. The Duke of Sheffield had followed him out.
Not that it mattered to Sarah, of course. Her relationship to Kit was no different than it had been before. One conversation about the nature of grief, one brief flash of connection, couldn’t change years of uneasy interaction. Kit was still her employer. He still didn’t like her.
Nothing had changed at all.
“Sarah?”
She turned, happy enough to be distracted from her odd thoughts, and smiled as the Duchess of Willowby approached. Aside from Isabel, this lady was the one Sarah was most comfortable with. The woman was a healer and she and her husband had joined the family a few weeks before the old duke’s death to see if the duchess could ease his pain. The woman had been nothing but kind and generous to the family, and to Sarah.
“Your Grace,” Sarah said. When Diana lifted her brows, she laughed. “Diana.”
“Better,” Diana chuckled. “How are you holding up?”
Sarah shrugged. “Well enough, I suppose. The household staff is all in mourning, though not as deeply as the family.”
She glanced again at the door to the terrace, thinking of Kit’s drawn face as they discussed the loss of his father. Despite their past, she felt for him.
Diana touched her hand. “I’m certain that this brings up painful memories of your own.”
Sarah bent her head. She had already had this painful conversation once tonight. She didn’t feel like repeating it. “I think of my mother, of course. Perhaps that will help me in my duties with Phoebe.”
Diana wrinkled her brow. “I suppose that is true. No one would understand the death of a parent more.” There was a brief, faraway look in her eyes for a moment, then her gaze cleared. “I saw you talking to Kit earlier, as well. I’m sure you will be a great comfort to them both.”
Sarah caught her breath. She’d been so wrapped up in her conversation with the duke, she hadn’t stopped to think that it had been held in a public room with everyone watching. Judging, perhaps. Making their own assumptions.
She shook her head. “I doubt the duke would seek my comfort. He is not fond of me.”
Diana wrinkled her brow. “Is he not? Well, I was not part of your circles until my marriage, so I do not know the circumstances. But he didn’t seem to be averse to your company a few moments ago.”
There was something in Diana’s tone that made Sarah’s heart jump a little. She stared at the observant, clever lady and tried to find words to combat her implication. Because that implication was very clear. Diana was saying she’d seen a connection between Sarah and Kit.
Which was preposterous beyond words. That was why she struggled with the very concept.
“He is…in an untenable position, I suppose. His father hired me and we all know how Kit—” She broke off immediately. Had she truly just called the man Kit to his friend’s wife? Oh, that was always how she referred to him in her mind. An old, unacceptable familiarity she had adopted for years.
But to do it out loud? When her position had so greatly changed? Heat suffused her cheeks and she wished to sink into the floor.
“I think between friends it is easier to refer to the dukes by their first names,” Diana said softly, her green stare holding firm on Sarah’s. “There are so many Your Graces in this room, your head would likely burst if you tried to refer to them all individually without confusing yourself.”
Sarah swallowed. Well, her friend had certainly given her one excuse for her bad behavior. She would cling to it, even though in her heart she knew that clarity wasn’t why she always thought of the man by not just his given name, but his nickname.
She pushed those thoughts aside. “The new duke,” she began slowly, “was close to his father, and if he wishes to sack me, then I suppose that would be difficult for him to do so. That was all I was trying to say.”
“Sack you?” Diana repeated. “Gracious, is that how deep whatever this animosity you think exists goes?”
Before Sarah could answer, the Duchess of Crestwood slipped up beside Diana and slid an arm around her. They two gave each other a warm squeeze and then Meg smiled at Sarah. “I was eavesdropping shamelessly, as I am wont to do. I heard the word animosity and got very curious.”
Sarah caught her breath. Oh God, this was the moment she had been dreading for years. Now Meg would have Sarah’s bad behavior thrown firmly in her face. It would be horrible and awkward and probably end in Sarah’s dismissal. How could it not?
“Sarah was just telling me that Kit has some secret reason for not liking her,” Diana explained. “Enough that she fears the security of her position here.”
Meg’s eyes went wide. “No. That cannot be. Whatever could you and Kit hold against each other?”
Sarah’s mouth dropped open and she stared at the duchess with wide eyes. Meg didn’t remember that awful night? How could she not? Sarah recalled each and every detail in fine relief. Every awful, tipsy word she’d said so long ago haunted her dreams, especially when she knew she’d have to talk to Meg or one of her friends.
Now, it was possible the duchess was just a fine actress, but she gave no indication that she was pretending not to recall the night that had changed Sarah’s life forever. The one that had put her in the path of a wrathful Kit. Meg just stared at Sarah with empathy and kindness and true confusion.
Sarah hesitated, for she had no idea what to do. Did she remind Meg of what she had done? Wouldn’t that only make everything worse? If she didn’t remind her, did that mean she was lying? Wouldn’t that only give Kit more ammunition against her if he found out?
Her head spun and she swallowed hard. “Once upon a time, His Grace and I had a rather unpleasant encounter,” she said slowly, trying to walk a fine line between the truth and the whole truth. “He has not forgiven me for something I said in a moment of foolishness.”
Meg blinked, but there was still no recognition on her face. “I’m sorry, I had no idea your relationship was so fraught. Is there anything we can do to help?”
Sarah shook her head. The very idea of Kit’s friends injecting themselves in their relationship, especially Meg…was terrifying. Kit would see it as a manipulation. He would add it to her list of crimes.
“Thank you, but it is really not your concern,” she said. “I’m certain the duke and I will work it out.”
Meg stared at her a moment, her brow wrinkling. Then she nodded. “Of course, my dear. If I overstepped my bounds, I do apologize. I’m a fixer, you see. Ask Simon and he will tell you. But I realize that you are a grown woman and well-capable of approaching your own problems.”
Sarah bent her head. “It was kindly meant and kindly taken, I assure you.”
“Very good.” Meg smiled. “Why don’t you two come with me? I’d like to discuss some details about tomorrow’s picnic with the rest of the ladies. We will have a great many small children to wrangle, even with the assistance of the nannies, and perhaps we can use Phoebe’s love of helping as some kind of distraction for her.”
Sarah pushed aside her bewilderment. She’d all but forgotten the picnic down by the lake that was planned for the next afternoon. It was a good reminder that she had duties here. Ones she had to take seriously and not just for her own sake.
So she did her best to forget all the difficulties she was facing with Kit and concentrated on Phoebe as she followed the ladies to their friends and all of them began to plan.
Sarah couldn’t help but feel nervous the next afternoon as she trailed along behind the large group of dukes and duchess and their children. She had not been able to sleep after excusing herself from their party the night before, tossing and turning as she relived every moment of her conversation with Kit. Had she said the right thing? The wrong thing? Would her candor and her attempt at comfort make their relationship better or worse?
When she was honest with herself, she also thought of other things. Like how full Kit’s lips were as they moved in conversation. How dark and soulful his eyes were. And those cheekbones. A man should not be blessed with such cheekbones—it really didn’t seem fair.
She sighed as Isabel fell back and linked arms with her. “You look tired.”
Sarah chose to ignore her sleepless night as the cause and instead focused on her job. “Well, with all the nannies given the morning off so this would be a family event, how could one not be?” Isabel cocked her head and Sarah shrugged because she knew her friend could see right through her. “It was a…trying morning.”
Isabel frowned. “I admit I could hear Phoebe when I was across the hall checking on the children in the nursery.”
Pursing her lips, Sarah let her attention drift ahead to her charge. Phoebe was walking with James and Emma’s oldest daughter, two-year-old Beatrice. She was holding the smaller girl’s hand and chatting amicably with Emma as they strolled.
A stark comparison to the morning’s collapse. “Phoebe is normally sweet as sugar in the morning,” Sarah said with a sigh. “But since her father’s death…”
Isabel squeezed her arm. “It is a phase. She’s so young, it must be hard for her to process such grief and uncertainty.”
“Well, her having a screaming fit cannot reflect well on me,” Sarah said.
“On the contrary, I think it reflects beautifully on you. She does not do such a thing to any of the duchesses.”
Sarah glared at her from the corner of her eye. “Thank you, that is helpful.”
Isabel laughed. “She trusts you, Sarah. She knows that she can act out in the worst way without risking the loss of your affection.
Sarah faltered in her steps at that assertion and both women came to a stop on the path. She stared at Phoebe again and her heart swelled with love for the little girl. “I-I suppose I had not thought of it that way.”
“At some point, of course it will be required to bring her back in line behaviorally,” Isabel said. “But for now, I think your patience and kindness are doing wonders. She adores you.”
Sarah shook her head. “Sometimes she does.”
“No. I was in the nursery with Adam after her fit and she came in to sit with me. You know how she is obsessed with the little ones.”
Sarah nodded.
“Well, she was telling me how much she loves everyone. Ranking those she loves, to be fair.”
Sarah laughed. “Oh dear. That seems unkind.”
“Well, if it helps, the geese seem to hold most her disdain. One chased her, so she loves him least. But do you know who she loves most?”
“Her brother, I’m certain,” Sarah said, unable to hold back her smile as Phoebe released Bibi and raced forward to fall in step beside Kit. Without even looking, he reached for her hand, and she saw the little girl laugh as she snatched it and they began to swing their arms between them.
“It was a tie,” Isabel said softly. “Between Kit and you.”
Tears leapt to Sarah’s eyes. Thanks to her position in the world, she had long ago given up on the idea of being a mother, herself. Despite the short duration of her employment, she had filled some of her maternal desires with her relationship with Phoebe.
“Oh,” she whispered.
Isabel laughed. “She even told me she thought you two should wed, then you would be a ‘real family’.”
Sarah’s tears fled, replaced by a lump that seemed to fill her throat immediately. “Gracious, I hope she doesn’t say that to the duke. He would be scandalized by the idea, given my position and his strong feelings regarding me.”
Isabel tilted her head. “Perhaps at some point he judged you for that day with Meg, but I was watching you two together at the gathering last night and he did not seem upset with you or judgmental.”
“A passing moment, likely brought on by grief,” Sarah said with a sigh. “Which apparently everyone in that room was watching and judging themselves. And why not? I’m a servant.”
“You are not,” Isabel said sharply.
The tears Sarah had felt when she thought of her connection to Phoebe returned, but this time they were focused on the loss of her connection to her old life. One she clearly had to address before it spiraled out of control. “Oh, Isabel, I do appreciate your kindness and the fact that you don’t treat me as if anything has changed. But the fact is that it has.”
Isabel shook her head, but Sarah didn’t allow her to interrupt. “Yes, it has,” she insisted. “My place is far below yours and it will be for the rest of my life. The best thing I can do for myself is to remember that fact. Accept it. And do my best to keep this job so I don’t require interference on my behalf again.”
“Sarah,” Isabel whispered.
“I will always love you very much,” Sarah continued. “And I will always remember you as my very best, most devoted friend. But right now I must go to Phoebe and put all my attentions on her. Enjoy your new friends and your lovely new life that I am so happy you get to lead.”
She leaned up, kissed Isabel’s cheek briefly and then scurried away. But she came down the hill toward the place where the picnic blankets had been laid out for the guests, she couldn’t help but feel she had at last walked away from her girlhood dreams.
And into the life she now had to embrace in order to survive.
Kit loved his sister, but at present he was losing patience with the little girl. As his friends sat spread across half a dozen picnic blankets, passing their young children around, eating and drinking, their laughter should have lightened his heavy heart.
Instead, all he could do was watch as Sarah knelt before Phoebe, sternly talking to the little girl. In the hour since they’d come down to the lake, his sister had thrown three tantrums, ranging from a pouting fit to a full-on screaming explosion.
She folded her arms across her chest even now and her lower lip poked out as she shouted, “No!”
Kit let out his breath in a long sigh and got up off the blanket where he’d been sitting. Ignoring everything else around him, he marched across the grass until he reached the pair and bent to look his sister in her face. “Phoebe, that is enough.”
Sarah glanced at him and back to his sister. “Please do not trouble yourself, Your Grace. I have matters in hand.”
He scowled at her. “Do you? It doesn’t seem entirely certain that is true.”
The color left her cheeks and she pushed to her feet. Before she could speak, Phoebe huffed out her own breath. “I want to go on the boat.”
Kit’s head began to throb and he gave his sister a sharp look. “Well, this is not the way to go about it.”
Once again, Sarah shook her head slightly and then reached out for Phoebe. Her hand hovered in the air between them and finally his sister took it, her face red with frustration and bright eyes sparkling with tears. In that moment, Kit saw how difficult her emotions were. How pain was driving her bad behavior. He had not been able to see the truth. Sarah had.
And he immediately wished he had not been so sharp with her, or with her governess.
“Phoebe,” Sarah said, gently but firmly. “Your brother is right that behaving badly will not give you what you desire. It’s a little early in the season for a ride on the boat.” Phoebe opened her mouth, the tears beginning to fall. Before she could shriek, Sarah continued, “But…if you will take a walk with me, if you will calm down and behave yourself for a few moments, then I will consider your request and we can talk abou
t it like ladies.”
Kit held his breath as they both stared at Phoebe. She was shifting now, her mind clearly turning on all her options. Then she drew a long, shuddering breath and said, “Yes, Miss Sarah.”
Sarah smiled at her and Kit’s heart stuttered. She was lovely when she smiled. He didn’t think he’d seen her do it ten times in all the years he’d known her. Circumstance had kept the expression from her face.
Circumstances that included the fact that she didn’t like him. That was his doing, of course, but now he regretted not seeing that look before. Not coaxing it in any way possible just because of how it lit her eyes.
He frowned at the paths his mind had taken him on. He reached out to ruffle his sister’s hair and she looked up at him with uncertainty. “Good girl, Phoebe. Now run ahead a moment, without going near the boats. I want to speak to Miss Carlton.”
Phoebe nodded and raced away, leaving Kit and Sarah alone. He turned toward her, expecting a moment to tell her how much he appreciated her kindness, but he found her glaring at him with what was clearly annoyance.
“Your Grace, I understand that Phoebe is your sister and you are my employer, but I must insist that you do not undermine my authority with her, nor my method in approaching her.”
He blinked at the hardness of Sarah’s tone. Normally she spoke to him either gently, as she had the previous night, or with hesitation. This was neither of those things.
“I beg your pardon?” he asked.
She folded her arms, which drew his attention to the swell of her breasts, but he dragged his gaze away to focus. She was truly angry. “I did not require your interference. You said it wasn’t clear that I had matters in hand, but I did.”
“She ought not to act—”
“Like a child?” she interrupted. “She is a child, Your Grace. And on top of that, your sister is grieving, just as you are. But she is a little girl, with only a fraction of your self-control, so her emotions show themselves in sometimes unpleasant ways. You would do well to remember that and give her the same space others give you.”
The Last Duke (The 1797 Club Book 10) Page 5