She ignored the nausea, the anxiety, and opened the door to Phoebe’s chamber. She’d put the little girl down for bed half an hour before, but she wanted to check on her, make sure she’d been able to sleep. That had become a struggle since her father’s death.
Sarah stepped into the chamber and stood a moment, letting her eyes become accustomed to the darkness in the room. When she could make out shapes of furniture, she tiptoed forward until she stood beside Phoebe’s bed in the firelight.
To Sarah’s great relief, the girl was fast asleep, her little thumb tucked between her lips. Someday Sarah would have to discourage that behavior, but for now she had no intention of taking away any habit that offered comfort to her charge.
She leaned in and smoothed a lock of hair from the little girl’s face. She did care for Phoebe. In the time she’d been here, they’d grown very close, closer since the death of her father, when Phoebe had begun to turn into herself more and more. Sarah could only hope she wouldn’t be dismissed and not just for her own sake.
She sighed and slipped back out of the room. As she gently shut the door and turned, she started. Coming from the room across the hall was the Duchess of Crestwood.
Meg smiled as she stepped closer. “Miss Carlton,” she said in a low tone. “I was just checking on my son. Were you looking in on Phoebe?”
Sarah swallowed hard. She had not had a conversation with this woman for three years. She’d avoided an encounter strenuously. And yet here she was in the hall with her and the duchess was smiling like nothing terrible had ever transpired between them.
“Er, yes,” Sarah managed when she gathered her composure. “She’s been having trouble falling asleep lately.”
The duchess’s smile fell. “Poor little lamb. She must miss her father fiercely.”
Sarah nodded. “Indeed, that is true. Though I think having a full house of friends is helping her a great deal. She so enjoys having the younger children here.”
“She’s wonderful with them,” Margaret said immediately. “I overheard her telling Emma yesterday that she can help because she’s a big girl, not a baby anymore.”
Sarah smiled. “That sounds like Phoebe.”
She shifted as she realized how familiarly they were speaking. Too much so, considering their past and the lady’s position. Sarah took a step back and was about to make her excuse to leave the hall when the duchess tilted her head.
“You seem to be very close to Phoebe, despite being employed here such a short time. I’m sure that offers her great comfort.”
“I hope so,” Sarah said, glancing back at the door, her personal worries gone for a moment.
When she looked at the duchess again, she saw a small smile on her face. “If your duties for the night are finished, I think everyone would love it if you joined us. The group is having after-supper drinks in the parlor.”
Sarah couldn’t help it when her jaw dropped open at the unexpected invitation. “Oh no, I couldn’t,” she said.
The duchess lifted her brows. “No?”
Sarah shook her head. “I cannot imagine it would be appropriate, nor that the Duke of Kingsacre would appreciate his sister’s governess inserting herself into such a gathering.”
Margaret’s face wrinkled. “Gracious, Miss Carlton, that is ridiculous. I am inviting you—it isn’t as if you would be striding in of your own volition. And you were raised as a member of Society, known to everyone in that room. You are one of our dear Isabel’s friends and I know she loves to see you. Iinsistthat you join us.”
“My dress,” Sarah said as she looked down at her plain, serviceable black gown. Although it wasn’t as fine as the lady before her, she was grasping for any last straw that might save her from the perseverance of this woman.
Margaret looked her up and down. “Looks no different than mine. Everyone is wearing mourning attire. It isn’t an exhibition. Please?”
Sarah’s shoulders rolled forward on the please. She had avoided Margaret so strenuously in the years after their ugly encounter, she’d almost forgotten how friendly and persuasive she could be. Now she found herself nodding.
“Of course, Your Grace,” she said on a sigh, and stepped in next to the duchess as they began to move up the hall together, back toward the stairs.
Margaret turned to face her. “Oh no, you mustn’t Your Grace me. You are off duty now that Phoebe is asleep and we are amongst friends. Meg, I insist.”
Sarah gaped.Meg? Great God, she could only imagine the ramifications that doing as she was asked would create. Especially if Kit heard her speaking so impertinently. Still, she couldn’t refuse, so she simply nodded. “If you would prefer it.”
“I would,” Meg said, smiling as they made their way down the stairs and through the hall to the parlor.
As they neared it, Sarah could hear voices from within. To her surprise, their tone was lighter than it had been in the past few days. Gentle laughter filtered into the hallway. Life was coming back into the house, as it always did in the end.
She knew better than most that life went on, even when it hurt.
Meg led her in, and as she slipped in behind her, she was shocked when the duchess announced, “I have found Miss Carlton and convinced her to join our party now that her charge is asleep.”
