“You do?” she whispered.
He tilted his head. “Of course I do, with all my heart. And when we are sad, sometimes we don’t behave well. But we must do better, mustn’t we? We must try a little harder so our grief doesn’t make things worse.”
She seemed to ponder that a moment and then she nodded. “Yes, Kit.”
“If you are sad, instead of getting angry or acting badly, you come to me. We can talk about Papa. We can be sad together.”
“And talk to Sarah,” Phoebe said, lifting her hand to play with one of his buttons.
“Yes, and talk to Sarah,” he said with a soft sigh.
“Can I see her now?” Phoebe asked. He heard the hesitation in her voice. The guilt.
“You shall,” he said with a little squeeze for her. “But I need to talk to her first.”
And it could no longer wait.
Sarah rested her head back on the fluffy pillows, staring up at the finely carved ceiling above the comfortable bed. She was exhausted and her eyelids drooped, though she tried to stay awake. It felt wrong to sleep in Kit’s bed. Wrong to be in his bed at all, no matter how welcoming it felt.
Diana stepped up to look at her. Sarah smiled. “You must stop fussing,” she said. “I’m fine.”
“You drowned and were brought back to life thanks to my husband’s training. I will fuss all I like.”
Sarah sighed. “I should get up. Get back to work.”
She moved to sit up, but Diana placed a hand on her shoulder and held her steady. “I think not!”
“I cannot stay in the Duke of Kingsacre’s bed all day, Diana,” Sarah protested, though she didn’t fight the hand holding her in place. “It is unseemly!”
Before Diana could answer, there was a light knock on the door from the antechamber. Sarah tensed, fearful of who had come. Diana shot her a hard look and then slipped off to answer. She didn’t open the door all the way, but spoke to the person outside for a brief moment. Then she opened the door and Sarah caught her breath.
It was Kit. His gaze slid past Diana and speared her, unreadable. Unmovable. And she was suddenly painfully aware that she was in the man’s shirt and nothing else, propped up in his bed, her hair down around her shoulders.
“Diana,” he said without removing his gaze from Sarah. “I’d like to speak to Miss Carlton alone.”
Diana blanched and glanced back at Sarah. She could see the healer fighting a little war in her head between propriety and the fact that Kit was Sarah’s employer and could ask whatever he liked of her.
She arched a brow. “Let her rest,” she said, then smiled back at Sarah and slid from the room.
Kit reached back and shut the door behind her, and they were alone. In his bedchamber. Sarah had never felt so exposed, and she lifted the sheets just a little more as he took a long step toward her in the suddenly very quiet room.
She swallowed hard. “Your Grace, I apologize for all the trouble,” she squeaked out.
He kept moving forward, though his jaw tensed a fraction. “Hmmm.”
She worried her lip at the noncommittal response. Dear God, but he was tall. Had he always been so tall? Perhaps it was just that she’d never seen him from this angle.
She shook the odd thought away and focused. She knew what was coming—there was no use being a ninny about it. It was better just to face it and have it done with.
“I assume you have come here to sack me,” she said, happy that her voice was a little stronger than it had been a moment before.
The words stopped him in his tracks and he came to a halt at the foot of the bed. He stared at her, his eyes wide, and his cool demeanor cracked for a moment.
“Do you?” he asked.
“Of course. You’ve been looking for a reason, haven’t you?” She didn’t wait for his response as her high emotions, which had been held inside for so long, suddenly bubbled up. She supposed it didn’t matter anymore. She was done for, so she might as well just let it all out. “You don’t like me because of what happened all those years ago between me and the Duchess of Crestwood. Which isn’t fair! If I owe anyone an apology for that night, it is Meg, not you. And yet you have lorded it over me since that horrible moment when you threatened to destroy me.”
His cheek twitched. “Are you finished?”
