Sarah reached down to stroke her hand along Phoebe’s red hair. “It’s all right, poppin,” she said softly. “Go see your papa.”
“Phoebe…love,” his father called out gently.
The little girl did not turn away from her hiding place against Sarah’s legs. If anything, she clung harder to the fabric.
Kit shoved to his feet. He understood his sister’s fear, and yet he wanted to force her to go to her father. To say her goodbyes for both their sakes.
Sarah shook her head slightly and lifted a hand to stay him. He pursed his lips at her nerve, but remained where he was as she dropped down to her knees so she was the same height as his sister.
He moved forward, but could not understand what Sarah murmured to her charge. Phoebe drew back, looking her governess in the eyes before she slowly nodded. Sarah turned her toward the duke and gently tapped her forward.
Phoebe moved to the bed and Kit stepped away to allow his sister a moment of privacy with her beloved Papa. He looked at her as she spoke to him softly, tears beginning to form in her brown eyes. The eyes so like his own and their father’s.
She was not his full-blood sister. She was not legitimate, but the result of an ill-chosen affair. And yet Kit adored her. His father adored her. Kit knew what it was like to lose a parent so young, and he wished he could keep her from that pain.
“Is thereanythingI can do, my lord?”
He jolted and turned his face to find that Sarah had moved to stand beside him. He caught a whiff of the warm lilac scent of her bright honey-blonde hair. She always smelled good. She always had.
Not that it mattered. He paid attention to her because she’d been in Society, linked to his friends by a moment of bad behavior. Once she’d fallen from grace, he’d watched her because she worked for his father.
There was no other reason to be interested in her.
“No,” he said softly.
Phoebe had her arms around their father’s neck now. She had buried her face into his slender shoulder, and Kit could see that sobs wracked her little body. His own eyes burned with tears and he caught his breath.
“I’m so very sorry,” Sarah whispered.
He nodded, using all his focus not to show his reaction to her pity. “Thank you, Miss Carlton. Will you take Phoebe now? She shouldn’t be here when he…when he goes.”
Sarah stepped forward. She moved to his sister’s side and touched her shoulder gently. “Come along, dearest. Let us leave your papa and your brother now.”
Phoebe looked up at Sarah, her face streaked with tears. Then she nodded and took Sarah’s hand. As they turned, the duke reached up and touched Sarah’s arm. Kit stiffened as she turned back.
“Yes, Your Grace?” she whispered, her voice shaking.
“Thank you for your kindness, my dear,” he said. “I know you will take good care of my daughter…after. And my son.”
Sarah jerked and Kit took a step forward at the surprising statement. He waited for her to respond, and finally she covered his father’s hand with her own. “Of course, Your Grace. I will do everything in my power to see that they are well. Good…goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” he responded, and closed his eyes.
She cast Kit a quick look, then slipped away, his sister in tow. Which left Kit alone with his father again. He sat down by his side, smoothing a few thin locks of hair from his forehead.
“I swear, Father, I have no idea why you hired Sarah Carlton of all the governesses in the world,” he muttered, uncertain if his father was sleeping and could even hear him.
The older man’s eyes came open at the statement and a ghost of a smile fluttered over his lips. “Don’t you? I…hired that girl…because…you’ll need her.”
Kit pressed his lips together. “If you say so.”
“Let her…helpyou,” he said. “Don’t let the past…destroy…the future.”
Kit shook his head. He’d spoken to his father about Sarah before, of course. Mentioned her bad behavior with Meg years before. Talked to him when he saw her at balls. He’d probably pointed out her position when her mother died and left her destitute. But certainly his father couldn’t think there was some kind of bond between them.
Not that it mattered now. If it comforted the old man to believe Kit would have some kind of help, then he was not going to disabuse the man of the notion. Even if he was wrong on every level.
“I’m not ready for you to go,” Kit admitted, feeling the tears stream down his face at last and not caring.
