“Friends, my lady? Onlyfriends?” Sarah whispered, her voice cracking as frustrated and desperate tears filled her eyes. In the end, she knew there was no point to this display. She had no power, no money, no prospect.
No future. She had no future. And that had probably been true long before Crestwood and Meg had gone and gotten trapped in a cottage overnight together. The weight of that truth sank in and nearly buckled her.
“You are overwrought,” Meg said firmly. “And perhaps you’ve had too much punch.”
“I amnotoverwrought,” Sarah muttered. “I just don’t like to see someone grab for everything in the world because she thinks she can just take, take, take. My only consolation is that this scandal is so desperate that you may never recover. And when they whisper about you, I shall be the first one to tell them whatIobserved with my own two eyes.”
“That is enough.”
Both women turned, and Sarah’s breath departed her lungs entirely. The Earl of Idlewood was now standing just at Meg’s side, and he was glaring down at Sarah.
She’d been a keen observer of Society for a long time. In her position, she had to be. Almost everyone made her nervous, for most were far higher than she in station, but no one gave her stomach as many flutters as this very man. Unlike his friends, the men of their duke club, he was very serious. Almost wiser than his years. He was always watching, always present in whatever situation he encountered. He rarely talked to her, but when he did it was…mesmerizing.
And God’s teeth, but he was handsome. Even when he was staring at her like she was a bug to be crushed, his lean face and intelligent brown eyes were impossible not to note.
“L-Lord Idlewood,” Sarah said, forcing her gaze away from both his judgment and his distraction. “I did not see you there.”
“I would wager not, or you would not have said such wretched things,” Idlewood said softly. “Walk away now and go back to your mother. I’d also suggest you start planning on how you’re to tell her.”
Sarah shivered at the quiet command of his tone. At the horrors his words implied. “Tell her?”
Idlewood arched a brow. “When the Duke of Abernathe finds out you were attacking his sister, your invitations to many events are going to disappear. I assume you’ll need to tell your mother why.”
Sarah’s heart felt like it stopped in her chest as she stared at him. He almost looked bored, despite the fact that he was saying words that were world destroyers. Would he truly speak of her indiscreet behavior to Abernathe?
Everyone knew the duke was protective of his sister. He was a golden child, untouchable in even the deepest scandal. If he wished, he could bring down all the final, delicate threads of hope that remained for Sarah.
Idlewood held her stare as he said, “Now run along.”
Sarah couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t do anything except purse her lips together as she turned on her heel and slowly walked away. As she did so, the tears she had been fighting filled her eyes and she blinked to keep them at bay.
She’d spent her adult life trying to do the right thing. The proper thing. The ladylike thing. She did all that because she knew it was her only chance at any kind of future.
And now with one tipsy moment of foolishness, it seemed she had collapsed all her prospects and fantasies. She would have to face those consequences, because she had no doubt that the Earl of Idlewood would make good on his threats.
And her world would come crumbling down at last.
Chapter One
June 1813
Christopher Collins, Earl of Idlewood, sat at his father’s bedside, watching the old man’s breaths become more and more labored. The Duke of Kingsacre had been failing for such a long time, his illness taking pieces of him year by year, month by month, day by day. But it had progressed so slowly Kit had somehow allowed himself to feel that this day would never come.
And yet here it was. It felt like someone was tearing out his heart. Kit bent his neck, pressing his forehead against his father’s arm.
The old duke coughed and his fingers flexed against Kit’s hand gently. “You…have been…a good son,” he whispered, his voice raspy and heavy with strain.
Tears stung Kit’s eyes and he lifted his gaze to his father’s face. “I can only hope I will be half as good a duke as you are,” he said. “I am certain I will fail at it.”
His father’s expression softened and he smiled gently. “Never. You could…never…fail. Where…is…Phoebe?”
Kit straightened and looked toward his father’s chamber door. As if on cue, it opened and his younger sister, just five years old, stepped inside. She clung to the hand of her governess. Kit frowned. His father had hired Sarah Carlton to fill that position after her final fall from grace. She’d joined the household just two months before. The duke had not asked Kit’s opinion on the subject.
He did have one, of course. Healwayshad opinions when it came to Sarah. But right now he shoved them away, just as he had been since her recent arrival to the estate. He did not have the energy or time to deal with her.
Not when his father deserved all his attention.
“Papa?” Phoebe whispered, her voice breaking as she turned into Sarah’s skirt.
