“These are…”
“All your favorites,” Isabel said from just down the table with a warm smile for Sarah. “Kit wanted to be certain you would be pleased with your meal, so I passed along all I could remember to the cook.”
Sarah worried her lip. “Mrs. Parker must think this is a foolish to-do over a governess.”
Phoebe reached out and took her hand, holding it so tightly that it actually tingled. She stared up at her with wide, still apologetic eyes. “I helped.”
“You helped in the kitchen?” Sarah repeated in shock. “Has the world turned upside down since I went under the water?”
It was Lucas, Duke of Willowby, and the man who she now vaguely remembered had breathed life back into her lungs, who responded. “A shocking event like what you experienced can seem like it turns the world upside down. But I assure you, it is still turning exactly as it was before.”
Kit glanced at her briefly. “Lucas is right. And Mrs. Parker was more than pleased to spoil you, Sarah. You saved Phoebe and that means a great deal to everyone in this household, as she is dearly loved.” He smiled at his sister. “And she knows it, I think.”
Phoebe didn’t respond, but her giggle before she dove back into her food was answer enough to let the world know she liked being so loved by all around her. As the others fell back into conversation, Sarah began to eat. She hadn’t had a thing since a late breakfast before the picnic the day before. She realized now that she was famished and ate with gusto, hardly able to contain little moans of pleasure at the fine food.
She remained mostly quiet during the meal. She was still uncertain of her place at this table. These men and women could have at one time been considered her peers, but those days were long gone. And yet they were kind, considerate, welcoming to their happy, loving, loud fray.
The meal was a wonderful gift for her. A moment to relax out of her duties and just…be again. Be herself.
She glanced at Kit, who was talking at length to the Duke of Abernathe on his right, and she couldn’t help but admire the strength of him. It felt so much bigger now, so much more real since she’d touched him in a way that would shock the entire table if they knew, she was certain. It would surely become the talk of the below stairs set if the truth came out.
Suddenly her stomach felt a little less settled. She pushed her nearly empty plate aside. The others were also finishing their meals and the group began to move, readying to rise and to part ways for whatever would come in the day ahead.
At last, she tore herself away from the stolen moment and got to her feet. “Thank you all, again, for your kindness. I suppose I should get back to my duties. I have much to review for a return to Phoebe’s studies and I’m certain there is a great deal waiting for me after yesterday.”
She intended to curtsey away, but before she could step from the table, Diana pushed to her feet. “Absolutely not, my dear! You need to continue to rest, at least one more day.”
Sarah caught her breath and glanced at Kit, but he merely shrugged. “It is what the doctor ordered, Sarah. And after your heroics yesterday, I think you’ve earned far more than a mere breakfast in your honor. We would love for you to join in the party today, not as a governess, but as a friend to our group.”
Sarah gripped her hands against the table as those stunning words pierced through a veil of disbelief and confusion. Join the party? He could not mean that. But he looked entirely serious, and even more shocking, not a one of the dukes or duchesses seemed even the tiniest bit taken aback or annoyed by the idea of allowing an untitled interloper into their close gathering.
She knew she should say no. That despite their kindness, she didn’t truly belong in their fold anymore. But she didn’t. She wanted to pretend, to dream. And she would give herself that gift, just for the day.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling at the group as a whole.
Isabel got to her feet. “May we start with a walk in the garden? I haven’t had a moment to talk to you since…just since.”
Sarah nodded as she, too, got up. Isabel had been a friend to her almost her entire life. Right now she needed her, position be damned.
“Yes,” she said. “But first…”
She came around the table to where Diana and Lucas were standing, talking quietly. After a beat of hesitation, Sarah cleared her throat. “Your Grace,” she began. “I know it was you who saved my life at the lakeside.”
The tall, handsome man looked down at her and then he smiled softly. “It was entirely my pleasure, Miss Carlton. I am eternally grateful that my training, and my wife’s, could be of any service to you.”
The tears Sarah had been willing away collected again and one slid down her cheek. “If there is ever anything I could ever do to repay you—”
He shook his head. “Live a happy life, Sarah. That is all I would wish.”
Sarah blinked at the unfettered kindness of the man who had breathed her back into existence. She nodded slowly. “I’ll try.” Turning away, she smiled at Isabel. “A walk in the garden, yes?”
Isabel wiped at one of her own tears and then reached out to take her arm. “I cannot wait.”
Chapter Ten
Kit couldn’t help himself. As Sarah swept from the room on Isabel’s arm, their heads close together, whispering like the old friends they were, his heart swelled with pleasure. He’d wanted to give her a carefree day of fun after the nightmare of the previous afternoon. He knew the idea created conflicting feelings in her. Sarah was obviously aware of her new place, wanted to stay within its confines. And yet she was acquainted with his friends, clearly missed those old days when her life had been more relaxed.
That she had accepted the offer, even after hesitation, made him happy.
“Kit?”
He glanced down to find Phoebe reaching for his hand. When she took it, she was solemn, indeed. “Yes, what is it?” he asked before he crouched to her level.
“If Sarah is a lady again, does that mean she’ll go away?”
Kit tensed at the question and the image his sister had created in her misunderstanding. Sarah gone. He caught his breath. “No, sweetheart, Sarah is still your governess. Because she was so brave yesterday in saving you, we are giving her a special day. Do you understand?”
“So she won’t be a lady tomorrow?” Phoebe asked, brow wrinkling.
He shook his head. “Sarah will always be a lady. That cannot be changed by a job she holds or a life she leads. But she will be with you, taking care of you. Today, though, we’re going to be extra careful and kind to her.”
Phoebe seemed to understand that explanation and nodded slowly. “I’ll be extra kind. Do you think she’d like a picture?”
Meg had begun to approach with some of the other duchesses. She said, “I think she would love that. Will you help some of the other children and perhaps we can draw her something together?”
Of course Phoebe’s eyes lit up—she never turned down an opportunity to corral and rule the other, smaller children. “Yes!” she said, and let go of Kit’s hand to race off with the young children toward the playroom upstairs, their mothers and aunts in tow.
Kit stretched his back as he got to his feet once she was gone. It meant a great deal to him how much Phoebe loved Sarah. In just a few months, Sarah had forged a strong bond with his sister. Strong enough that she would die for her.
He shuddered and glanced toward the door where she and Isabel had departed a few moments before. He could picture every line of her face, every curve of her body, and it was entirely disconcerting.
The other dukes were milling about, talking about billiards or rides on the estate. Ewan was writing furiously in his notebook as Matthew read over his shoulder with a solemn expression. For the first time in a long time, Kit didn’t feel he…fit. He was in a very different place than all his friends, after all. And in his grief over his father and his confusion over Sarah, he suddenly didn’t feel as comfortable in the knowledge
of who he was.
“Kit, you look a man in need of an escape.” The Duke of Roseford clapped him on the shoulder as he said the words.
Kit smiled. Although they were almost polar opposites in their attitudes, he had always adored his wild friend. But even Robert had settled down, marrying his wife Katherine just six months before and then taking off on a whirlwind tour of the continent with her. They had only returned as Kit’s father grew closer to death.
“If anyone knows that look, it’s you,” Kit chuckled as he slung an arm around his old friend.
Robert grinned. “Ah, not so much anymore. I’m becoming more and more accustomed to being still. Or at least settled. I highly recommend it.” Kit’s smile fell, and as it did, so did Robert’s. His friend leaned a little closer. “To the study,” he said, grabbing Kit’s arm and all but dragging him from the room.
Kit allowed it, following Robert to the big, wood paneled room where his father had ruled over his family and lands until the final weeks of his life. He flinched as Robert shut the door behind them. It still looked like his father. It still smelled like him.
And the grief hit him like a quarter horse that had gotten free of its reins. He gripped the back of the chair in front of the fire and tried to breathe through it.
Robert tilted his head and crossed to pour them each a scotch. As he brought the glasses back and pointed Kit toward the chair he was leaning on, he said, “It’s too early for this, but everyone will blame me for that, not you.”
Kit took the drink and the seat and stared into the fire without seeing it. “Everyone is too busy tiptoeing around to blame me for anything.”
Robert took his own place and set his drink on the table between them without taking a sip. “Your father has not been dead a week, Kit. You deserve a little tiptoeing still. I’m certain one or more of us will make you aware if you become insufferable. I wish I could say I understood your pain.”
Kit glanced at his friend to find Robert’s expression pulled down. He saw a glimpse of the old Robert in his look, and the pain behind all his bad behavior over the years. Katherine had helped him with that. Helped him overcome the past and now he had a bright future ahead of him.
“I fear I had one of the only good men as father,” Kit said. “Matthew’s father being the other. Baldwin’s insomuch that he didn’t purposefully harm his family.”
Robert pursed his lips. “Just doomed them, at least briefly, thanks to his bad debts.”
“It’s not the same as Graham’s father, though. Or James’s. Or yours. Does being here make you think of him?”
Robert stared into the flames for a moment. “I hadn’t spoken to him for so long when he died. I had written him out of my life, thought I’d let it go, though I obviously hadn’t. I suppose I think of him fleetingly, but I think more about how far we’ve all come from our bad beginnings. Graham is a perfect example. His father abused him, far more than I think any of us was aware. And yet he is so gentle and loving to Maddie. She lights up his world.”
Kit smiled at the images his friend’s words conjured. “Yes, the problems of the past do seem to have faded considerably for our friends. And I know that as time passes, I will think of my father with great fondness. Those memories will no longer sting, but make me smile.”
“I think that’s true. Certainly I can think of ten stories of your father’s kindness that make me smile,” Robert said. “He was as close to a father as many of us had.”
“I do wish he were here to offer me advice.” Kit frowned.
Robert leaned farther forward. “Problems? Perhaps I can help. Is it the estate?”
Kit snorted. “No, he ran that like clockwork. It’s so well organized that Ewan tells me I could run away for a year and the legacy wouldn’t suffer in the slightest.”
Robert’s brow wrinkled. “Phoebe then?”
“Certainly I would love him to be here to help me with any challenges she’ll face. She is a spark and she does love to find dry tinder. I’m sure I will have many a gray hair from her spitfire ways in the years to come. But I know how to love her, I think. And that’s not something I need my father to tell me.”
Robert’s expression softened. “I’m glad you realize that. I watch you with her, you know. She adores you. She’s in her own grief at present, but she has a good heart and I know you will be the best brother and father she could hope for.”
Kit drew in a long breath. “I will try.”
“So if it isn’t your legacy that troubles you, nor your sister…then I can think of only one other thing.” Now Robert’s eyes sparkled like he knew some secret.
Kit’s heart sank. His friend had always been too talented at seeing the wicked where it lived. “And what is that?” he asked weakly.
“When Sarah Carlton came into the breakfast room this morning, I saw you light up like a candelabra. So my deductive skills tell me that perhaps your worries have less to do with serious, important endeavors and more to do with…feelings you are trying to avoid. And I don’t mean hearts and flowers feelings. I mean desires, Kit.”
Kit pushed to his feet and slugged back half his untouched scotch before he muttered, “Jesus.”
Robert chuckled as he settled back in his chair and crossed one ankle over the other. “This is me, you know. Biggest libertine in London.”
“Formerly,” Kit added.
“Proud former title holder,” Robert corrected. “I see all, I know all. So talk.”
Kit paced away. His mind was split in two on this subject. Part of him wanted to ignore Robert’s pressing, to keep the tangled subject of Sarah and his desires for her to himself. But the other part, the part that felt desperate and confused, knew he needed to speak to someone about it. And Robert was the best choice, given the very past they’d just been teasing each other about.
He cleared his throat, turned to face his friend and leaned back against the edge of the sideboard. “We’ve had a fraught relationship,” he began.
Robert blinked. “Ah yes, the night with…Charlotte?”
“Meg,” Kit correct.
Robert nodded. “Oh yes, yes, Sarah was mixed up in that mess with Meg and Simon and Graham what feels like ten lifetimes ago. You’ve been holding that against her?”
Kit pursed his lips. “Yes, that was the same tone of voice Meg used when she confronted me about it right before Phoebe’s boat capsized and everything went to hell. She chastised me for my attitude toward Sarah. And she said something else, and I’m going to admit to you now that it has stuck in my head ever since.”
“What did she say?”
Kit scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’ll regret telling you this, I’m sure. She said…she said that the reason I was so angry over Sarah’s impertinence had nothing to do with her being impolite to Meg.”
“What does she think it had to do with?” Robert asked.
“She thinks I was jealous that Sarah was hoping for a future with Simon.”
Robert’s eyes widened and he stared at Kit for a moment. Then he shrugged one shoulder. “Actually, that makes sense.”
“What?” Kit burst out. “What are you talking about?”
Robert rolled his eyes. “Come now, don’t rewrite history. You noticed Sarah Carlton long before that night. I recall you watching her a year before that mess. Sometimes you would comment on her gown or notice a change in her hair. And after that situation with Meg, you got even worse. Always tracking her around. Meg is probably right, though she always is. Damned annoying of her, and I’ve told Simon so many a time.”
“You court a punch in the face if you cross Simon in regards to Meg,” Kit said. “But now you’re supporting her theory and I feel like I’m being told I never knew my own mind.”
“You’ve always been serious,” Robert said gently. “Focused on taking on your father’s title and his responsibility. And then when he got sick, your focus turned in even more. That you weren’t ready to face your own…desires
…isn’t that surprising.”
Kit walked the length of the room, pausing at the window to stare out at the garden. Even from here he could see the bright yellow primrose dotting the landscape. Sarah’s flower. It had been there all along, of course, in his father’s garden for likely generations. Yet he’d never noticed it, never felt it mean something until now.
Was it the same with Sarah? Could Meg and Robert be right? Or was that just a flight of fantasy created by the terrifying events of the previous day and the weight of grief from losing his father?
“I kissed her,” he admitted.
“Did you now?” Robert drawled. “Where?”
Kit turned and stared at his friend. He couldn’t help but picture all the ways he could kiss Sarah. All the places that would make her blush and moan and sigh. “The…mouth?” he said slowly.
Robert tilted his head back and laughed. “Ah, I like that your mind takes you on such filthy paths. That bodes well for your future. But I meant where in the house, you great dolt.”
“Oh.” Kit’s cheeks flooded with heat. “My chamber. In…er…my bed.”
Robert was silent for a moment. A very long moment. His face was unreadable as he just stared at Kit like he’d grown a second head. “And here I called you a monk.”
“What?”
“Behind your back. Kit the Monk. I feel I should apologize, for I clearly misjudged you.”
“Thank you,” Kit said with a glare. “I appreciate the support.”
Robert’s teasing demeanor faded. “I’m not opposed to the idea of you being swept away by passion. God knows, it can be a very good thing. But I do wonder what brought it on. Was it just the grief? Just the fear of what happened yesterday? Just the gratitude?”
Kit returned to his seat and flopped there. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Yes. To all those things. But…it was more than that. I walked into that room and I just wanted to…to touch her. I wanted to touch her, and it had everything and nothing to do with the fact that she nearly died.”
The Last Duke (The 1797 Club Book 10) Page 10