The Last Duke (The 1797 Club Book 10)

by Jess Michaels

  He shuddered as he closed the door and left her to sleep. Something had shifted in the moment since Meg had asked him if he’d been jealous of Simon, and this moment when she lay in his bed.

  Oh, there had been the fact she’d nearly died to protect his beloved sister. Of course that mattered. But it was more than that. More than he was ready to examine or accept.

  He exited his rooms and stepped into the hall, but after he shut the door, he turned to find Isabel standing there, her face pale and her expression lined with worry.

  “Is Matthew well?” he asked.

  She darted her gaze away and he knew the answer. Of course his friend would struggle to process what had happened today. It fed directly into an experience that had changed him to his core.

  “He is better,” she said softly. “He’s with our little Daniel at present. The baby gives him comfort.”

  Kit’s empathy rose as he looked closer at Isabel’s face. Their newborn would be a source of comfort to Matthew, but he could see Isabel’s pain.

  “He loves you deeply. Desperately,” he said softly. “It is not like anything I’ve ever seen before with him, you know. Ever.”

  He said the words as a way to comfort her, but they were true. Yes, Matthew had loved in the past. Losing his fiancée had devastated his friend. But the love Kit saw him share with Isabel was a deeper thing. More connected and well-suited. Something more mature and passionate and filled with much laughter and connection.

  “I know,” she said, and reached out to squeeze his hand. “But thank you. I actually came to check on Sarah. I had to help Matthew first, of course, but she was my best friend for years.” Her breath caught. “Do you think she despises me for not coming to her right away?”

  Kit drew back. “Of course not, Isabel. Diana and Amelia tended well to her, and I’m sure she understands where your first attentions had to lie. She is sleeping now, though.”

  Isabel’s face fell. “Oh. Well, that is good. Diana says it will be helpful for her.” She bent her head. “Kit, when I thought she was dead…when she was dead…”

  His own breath hitched at the horrible memory. “I know. I can scarcely bear to think of it. Thank God for Lucas’s knowledge that brought her back to us.”

  “It makes you appreciate how fleeting everything is, doesn’t it?” Isabel asked.

  “It does,” he agreed. “I’ve had quite a few reminders of that, as of late.”

  Isabel nodded. “For me, all I can think about is how Sarah has pulled away since she went into service. She feels we can no longer be such good friends. I’ve…I’ve let her distance herself because I thought it would help her transition, but that feels so wrong now. Like I failed her.”

  “You didn’t,” he reassured her gently. “If anyone failed her, I have. I know she has feared her position here. I told her today that she wouldn’t be sacked.”

  He didn’t add the part about the kissing, but he thought of it. Thought of her body rising against his, her mouth opening beneath his as she opened to him so damned sweetly.

  “That’s wonderful,” Isabel said. “It will take a weight from her. So it seems her life has changed in many ways. I wonder what will happen next.”

  He stared at Isabel a moment. This was Sarah’s best friend, the person who likely knew her best now that her mother was no longer with her. “I would like to do something nice for her,” he said. “For what she did, she deserves far more accolades than I could possibly arrange, but something to celebrate her.”

  Isabel’s face lit up, her worries fading slightly. “I love that idea, Kit. She has suffered so much in recent years, I would love to see her given some kind of special day. I can help if you’d like.”

  He nodded. “I hoped you would say just that. I welcome all your input. And I have a few ideas of my own.”

  Isabel linked arms with him and began to chatter away as they left the hall and headed for the stairs back to the main house. But as they walked together, he couldn’t help but think of the question Isabel had asked.

  What would happen next?

  He had no idea. And he wanted to know. Desperately.

  Chapter Nine

  Sarah cuddled deeper into warmth and sighed as her dreams began to fade. Odd dreams at that, of darkness and pain, transformed by a man’s mouth on hers, of her body lifting beneath him. And when she looked to see who this mysterious lover was she found…Kit. She knew she should pull away, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

  She didn’t want to.

  She let her eyes flutter open and tensed. Where was she? This wasn’t her bed in the little room next to Phoebe’s that was reserved for the governess.

  And then everything rushed back to her. The boat, the water, the kiss. None of that had been a dream—the previous day had truly happened. Her world had changed and it could never be the same.

  She rolled to her side and froze. There was a vase of flowers on the bedside table that had not been there before. Amongst the bright, happy blooms was a cluster of yellow primrose.

  Her heart thudded at the sight. It was possible that someone on the household staff had simply included the bright flower in the bouquet, but she couldn’t help but recall her conversation with Kit when she’d mentioned her affinity for the flower that reminded her so much of her late mother.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said as she got up slowly. She did feel steadier today than she had the prior one. Less tired after a blissful night’s sleep in Kit’s very comfortable bed. She couldn’t help but wonder where he had spent his night.

  Well, that wasn’t about to be repeated. She would certainly never find herself in his bed again. It would be back to normal now. She had to make certain of it so he wouldn’t have any reason to go back on his vow that he wouldn’t end her employment.

  She looked down at herself. She was still in his shirt. His now very wrinkled shirt, which she had slept in. And her gown was nowhere in sight. One of the maids must have taken it during the blurry time when Amelia and Diana were fussing over her, getting her out of the wet things and into something warm and dry.

  But that meant she was trapped here. There would be no efficient readying of herself, which she had perfected in the last few months, and then slipping back into her regular routine.

  She glanced at the door. Of course, the duke had a bell. But would it bring his valet? She was a little afraid of Mr. Stone, for he was very proper and very good at what he did. He judged the whole household. But if it didn’t bring Mr. Stone, then who?

  “Just ring the bell, girl,” she muttered. “You almost died—you can’t be afraid anymore.”

  She jerked the cord and then panicked. God, should she get back into his bed to wait for help? No, that seemed very wrong. She wasn’t the duchess. So she stepped back, settling herself as demurely as she could onto a chair beside the fire as she waited to see who would come. At least Kit was tall and his shirt came down to mid-thigh. She felt horribly exposed, but not as much as she could.

  A few moments passed and the door to the chamber opened to reveal one of the maids who had helped the previous afternoon after the accident. Jill stepped into the chamber with a bright smile. Sarah nearly wept in relief when she saw the young woman also had a gown and underthings draped over her arm and slippers tucked into her hand.

  “Good morning, Miss Sarah,” she said with a deferential nod of her head.

  Sarah wrinkled her brow. She’d been in service for months now. The girls below stairs were friendly in the house, but no one ever acted like anyone, aside from Barrymore and Stone, was higher than anyone else. They were servants, with rank and place, but without pretense.

  And now Jill all but curtseyed, and for a moment it was like she’d gone back in time to when her family still had money and her maid, Katie, would help her get ready for balls and parties.

  She blinked away the old memories, put herself firmly back in her current position and said, “Good morning, Jill. I
must say I’m so devilishly happy it is you who came and not Stone.”

  The maid giggled and some of the deferential wall came down. “Poor man had enough of an apoplexy when he had to go to the guest wing to help the duke ready himself. You should have heard him go on about needing to sneak into the dressing room while you slept in the adjoining.”

  Sarah’s heart sank. That talk could destroy someone below stairs as easily as it could above.

  “Oh, please tell me they all know, including Stone, that I didn’t choose to be put in the duke’s room yesterday.”

  Jill drew back with a nod. “Of course, miss! Gracious, your heroics were all the talk last night during our supper and this morning before the dukes and duchesses were up and about. Stone was put in his place right quick when we reminded him you had saved Miss Phoebe. He stopped his grousing then and looked mightily chagrined.”

  Sarah’s eyes went wide, not only at the news that Stone had been shamed into ceasing his talk about her, but also at the fact that the dukes and duchesses were already awake. “What time is it, Jill?”

  Jill smiled as she set the gown down on the edge of the bed and the other things beside it. “Half past ten, Miss Sarah.”

  Sarah jerked her hands to her mouth. She should have been up at dawn to prepare for the day, along with all the other servants. “Oh no! What he must think of me! Thank you for the gown—I will dress right away and ready myself as quickly as possible. Please tell the duke I am sorry, I didn’t mean to neglect my duties for so long!”

  Jill stared at her in surprise. “No one is angry, miss! On the contrary, we were told by His Grace to be sure not to wake you. And when you rang, I was asked to come help you ready yourself.”

  Sarah’s mouth dropped open. She hadn’t had help to ready herself in months. Once she’d sold all her finer gowns, she’d been sure to have her plain, serviceable wardrobe designed so that she could fasten and unfasten herself. Her hairstyle was no longer elaborate, but a loose bun at the nape of her neck.

  In truth, she rather liked the simplicity her life contained now, and the independence of caring for herself. She could be dressed and ready for her day in less than half an hour, when before she might have taken an hour or more with a maid fastening and fussing.

  “I couldn’t!” Sarah insisted.

  “I don’t want to get in trouble, miss,” Jill said, worrying her hands before herself and bringing Sarah’s focus back to the room.

  She sighed. “Of course.” She stepped toward Jill and slid the shirt from her body. “But you must stop addressing me as miss. I’ve been nothing but Sarah since I got here—please don’t put me in a position where I belong neither with those above stairs or those below it.”

  Jill seemed to ponder that a moment, then nodded. “Of course. Though I swear that His Grace does seem to see you differently.”

  Heat suffused Sarah’s cheeks, and she hoped it wasn’t too obvious to her friend as she helped her button her plain, black gown. Of course Kit saw her differently. He had kissed her so passionately not twenty-four hours before. She could practically still taste him on her lips. Nothing could be the same after that.

  “Sarah?” Jill said.

  She blinked and realized the maid was pointing at a chair before the table where Kit’s miniatures were set. Sarah took it, and Jill produced a brush from her pocket and began to run it through her hair.

  Sarah shivered in pleasure. She brushed her own hair, certainly, but there was something extra special about having someone else do it.

  Jill swiftly twisted and pinned her hair, then produced a hand mirror. “What do you think?”

  Sarah stared at herself. If she’d felt herself talented at doing her own hair, this moment disabused her of that belief. Jill had done wonders. The style was still simple, but it framed her face better and was more firmly anchored so that it wouldn’t fall during the day.

  “It’s wonderful,” she breathed. “I’ll have to have you teach me your tricks some night. You ought to be a lady’s maid, not a housemaid.”

  Jill’s cheeks filled with color. “Who wouldn’t rather be?” she asked. “But there is no position to be filled on that score currently, and when the duke marries, I’m certain his duchess will bring her own maid. But Miss Phoebe will one day require assistance, and I hope I will still be here to provide it.”

  Sarah pursed her lips. Although this was a kind household and the servants were treated well and compensated fairly, the life amongst their ranks was never easy. She knew a maid like Jill might work from six in the morning to eleven or twelve at night, with few breaks. And here she was, praying that in ten or twelve years' time, she might finally move up to a less taxing position as lady’s maid.

  She forced a smile. “About the time you are elevated to Lady Phoebe’s maid, I shall no longer be needed as governess.”

  Jill shook her head. “Of course you will. Certainly the duke will be married with his own children by then. You will have a job here for a long time to come.”

  Sarah ignored the pit that set itself into her stomach. Kit would marry. Of course he would. It was silly to think he wouldn’t, given his position and his responsibilities. He would marry some lady of Society and probably have eight children with her, if the passion of his one kiss was to be a guide.

  So her position would most definitely be safe. And yet she felt no pleasure in that fact.

  She shook her head. “Well, I have dallied enough. I do appreciate your help, but I suppose it is time for me to get back to my work. I assume Phoebe has already had her breakfast and will need to be collected for her studies before she joins the others today?”

  “Oh no, miss. Everyone is waiting for you in the breakfast room.”

  Sarah stared. “I’m sorry?”

  “Yes, His Grace’s orders were for you to join the party at breakfast as soon as you were ready. Miss Phoebe is with them, I believe. A special treat after yesterday’s terrible experience.”

  Sarah covered her mouth with her hands. “And here I am, taking my time. Thank you again.”

  She fled the room and hustled down the stairs toward the big breakfast room at the back of the house. But as she went, she couldn’t help but wonder what in the world Kit had been thinking asking her to join his friends. She didn’t belong there, as Jill’s statements had reminded her.

  And kisses or no, that wasn’t about to change. She needed to remember her place and not get swept up in what had to be a moment brought on by high emotions, nothing more.

  She heard the group before she reached the chamber. The door to the breakfast room was open and there was a buzz coming from it. Laughter and talk, chatter that said, once more, that life would come back into these halls. The death of the duke, the near tragedy on the lake, all would be forgotten over time. Or at least dulled.

  She drew in a deep breath to calm herself, then stepped into the chamber. All the dukes and duchesses were gathered there, with their children in their laps. It was clearly a big family gathering, and for a moment Sarah froze.

  That was why Kit had asked her to come, not because of any personal reason. He just wanted her to be a buffer for the children. To do her job.

  But that was quickly belied when the Duke of Abernathe got to his feet, smiled at her and said, “There she is, the heroine of the hour!”

  He began to clap. To her surprise, all the others joined him, applauding her as she bent her head and absorbed their attention and affection. It was unlike anything she’d ever known. After all, she’d never really fit in anywhere she’d gone. She had been the lower level of Society and now she was the kind of servant who didn’t really fit either. She’d been mostly alone, but never more so than after her mother’s death.

  And here she was, being applauded by the most influential group in all of England, save the royal family. It was almost overwhelming, and she found her head swimming with it.

  She glanced up to find Kit coming across the room toward h
er. He had a smile on his face and he held her gaze. She found herself clinging to that, using his easy strength as some kind of buoy.

  “I’m sorry I slept so late,” she burst out, wringing her hands in front of her.

  His brow wrinkled and his expression softened further. “You needed to rest. I’m happy you’re here now.”

  She worried her lip and dared to look up into his eyes once more. “I—we—I—”

  He chuckled, and the sound seemed to settle its way into her very blood. “Just say you’ll bear the celebration of the others.”

  She nodded at last, unable to think of anything else to do. He offered her an arm, and before she took it, she whispered, “There were flowers by my bedside this morning.”

  “Yes. I thought you would miss the ones in your room, so I picked you more and had Jill bring them to you.”

  Her lips parted and she couldn’t help the ragged catch of her breath. “You picked them? Yourself?”

  He glanced down and then lifted his hands, wiggling his fingers playfully. “Turns out these don’t stop working, even when one becomes duke. Was there enough yellow primrose?”

  Tears filled her eyes and she blinked at them before she whispered, “Oh yes, it was perfect.”

  He offered her an elbow again and she took it this time, shocked by the spark of awareness that seemed to flow between them when she dared to touch him. He led her to the main table in the large room and beckoned her to sit. She blinked. The empty chair was right between him and Phoebe. As she hugged the little girl gently, she couldn’t believe that was correct.

  That was a place of honor.

  But he didn’t seem to be teasing or mistaken. He pulled back her chair and she glided into place right in the middle of his friends and their families. Like she belonged there.

  Like he wanted her there even though she knew that couldn’t be true. Almost before she could shake out her napkin and rest it in her lap, a footman appeared with a towering plate of eggs, sausages and pastries. She shook her head as the fragrant aroma of the food hit her nostrils.