Diana had moved to Sarah and glanced up. “Adelaide, Emma and Meg are tending to her. Now go.”
Amelia gave him a short nod and then closed the door in his face. He stared at the barrier now between him and the woman who had nearly died to save his sister’s life. And he tipped forward to lean against the door as all the fear hit him at once.
Sarah was aware of the soft, female hands moving over her body. Her sopping wet gown was being stripped away, and they were talking to the maids. Warm air brushed her bare skin and someone was rubbing a towel over her none too gently. Her flesh tingled as heat returned to it and slowly her awareness increased.
“Here, hold up your arms,” Amelia, the Duchess of Brighthollow, said softly.
Sarah lifted them as high as they would go, despite how heavy all her limbs felt. A shirt came down over her naked body. A man’s shirt. She realized with a start that it was Kit’s shirt. It was leagues too big and smelled of him. Leather and sandalwood and something generally masculine.
The women caught her arms and helped her to unsteady feet. She let them draw her to the bed that the maids had turned down and slid between the sheets. Someone had placed a warming brick wrapped in flannel down at the bottom of the bed, and she shuddered as her cold toes hit that warm heaven.
She was coming back to reality now. Memories returned of going under the water. Of the darkness. Of a bright light that followed it. A tunnel of light that had felt so welcoming. She’d seen her mother there and farther back, over her shoulder, Kit’s father. Everything had seemed so warm and happy and good.
But her mother had reached out her hand and whispered, “Not yet, love.”
Then Sarah had been on the shores of the lake, her lungs burning as she retched up water. She had died. Or almost died? Either way, a wave of emotion rose up in her and she began to weep.
“Oh, dearest,” Amelia said as she climbed up beside Sarah on the bed and guided her head into her shoulder.
“My hair is wet, I’ll ruin your gown,” Sarah said, her shivers finally subsiding enough that she didn’t stammer.
“I don’t give a whit,” Amelia assured her as she smoothed her hand over that damp hair. “You cry now, it’s all right.”
Diana was bustling on the side of the bed, pressing her thumb to Sarah’s wrist, placing a hand on her forehead, checking her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Sarah sobbed.
Diana hesitated and then cupped her cheeks gently. “You have nothing to be sorry about. You were so very brave.”
She shook her head against her friend’s hands. “No. No, it was my fault.”
“How is that true?” Amelia asked.
“I knew Phoebe was in a dudgeon and that it was far too early to go out on the boats. I was trying to give her space and allow her a little extra time. I was responsible for keeping her safe and I-I didn’t.” Her thoughts spun to Phoebe’s terrified expression, to her fearful thrashing. “That little girl has been through so much. Was she truly unharmed?”
Amelia stroked her hair. “Just frightened, I think more over the potential of losing you than anything. You saved her life. And as far as it being your fault, any one of us might have taken her out in that boat. We’re all being a little more indulgent with her as she navigates her grief. If you hadn’t taken her, Hugh was discussing that he should, himself.”
“If he had, I’m sure he wouldn’t have let her flip the boat,” Sarah said, her tears subsiding as she lifted her head from Amelia’s now-damp shoulder.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Diana said as she finished with her bustling and perched on the edge of Kit’s bed. “As Amelia said, that could have happened to anyone.”
Sarah worried her lip. “I doubt the duke will see it that way,” she whispered, thinking of Kit’s arms around her as he carried her to the house, and of the sharpness with which he had spoken to her. “He shall sack me at last, put me out on the street without a reference.”
“No,” Amelia reassured her.
“He has been looking for a reason to do so,” Sarah said.
Diana shook her head. “If he dared to do something like that after your heroics, he would have a gaggle of duchesses at his throat. The gentlemen have learned over the years, my dear, not to cross the wives. Kit included.”
Amelia pushed to her feet. “I should go give the others an update on your condition.”
Diana nodded. “A very good idea. And I know that Adelaide will make certain Phoebe is dry, but also be sure those men changed their clothing. I will not deal with pneumonia because they refused to stop beating their chests.”
Amelia laughed as she gave a mock salute. “Yes, Your Grace.”
After she’d gone, Diana glanced at Sarah. “You cannot really believe that Kit would dismiss you so cavalierly?”
“I don’t know,” Sarah whispered. Except that wasn’t true. She did know. No matter what anyone said, she knew exactly the hell that would come. And probably sooner rather than later.
