Sarah shivered in pleasure. She brushed her own hair, certainly, but there was something extra special about having someone else do it.
Jill swiftly twisted and pinned her hair, then produced a hand mirror. “What do you think?”
Sarah stared at herself. If she’d felt herself talented at doing her own hair, this moment disabused her of that belief. Jill had done wonders. The style was still simple, but it framed her face better and was more firmly anchored so that it wouldn’t fall during the day.
“It’s wonderful,” she breathed. “I’ll have to have you teach me your tricks some night. You ought to be a lady’s maid, not a housemaid.”
Jill’s cheeks filled with color. “Who wouldn’t rather be?” she asked. “But there is no position to be filled on that score currently, and when the duke marries, I’m certain his duchess will bring her own maid. But Miss Phoebe will one day require assistance, and I hope I will still be here to provide it.”
Sarah pursed her lips. Although this was a kind household and the servants were treated well and compensated fairly, the life amongst their ranks was never easy. She knew a maid like Jill might work from six in the morning to eleven or twelve at night, with few breaks. And here she was, praying that in ten or twelve years' time, she might finally move up to a less taxing position as lady’s maid.
She forced a smile. “About the time you are elevated to Lady Phoebe’s maid, I shall no longer be needed as governess.”
Jill shook her head. “Of course you will. Certainly the duke will be married with his own children by then. You will have a job here for a long time to come.”
Sarah ignored the pit that set itself into her stomach. Kit would marry. Of course he would. It was silly to think he wouldn’t, given his position and his responsibilities. He would marry some lady of Society and probably have eight children with her, if the passion of his one kiss was to be a guide.
So her position would most definitely be safe. And yet she felt no pleasure in that fact.
She shook her head. “Well, I have dallied enough. I do appreciate your help, but I suppose it is time for me to get back to my work. I assume Phoebe has already had her breakfast and will need to be collected for her studies before she joins the others today?”
“Oh no, miss. Everyone is waiting for you in the breakfast room.”
Sarah stared. “I’m sorry?”
“Yes, His Grace’s orders were for you to join the party at breakfast as soon as you were ready. Miss Phoebe is with them, I believe. A special treat after yesterday’s terrible experience.”
Sarah covered her mouth with her hands. “And here I am, taking my time. Thank you again.”
She fled the room and hustled down the stairs toward the big breakfast room at the back of the house. But as she went, she couldn’t help but wonder what in the world Kit had been thinking asking her to join his friends. She didn’t belong there, as Jill’s statements had reminded her.
And kisses or no, that wasn’t about to change. She needed to remember her place and not get swept up in what had to be a moment brought on by high emotions, nothing more.
She heard the group before she reached the chamber. The door to the breakfast room was open and there was a buzz coming from it. Laughter and talk, chatter that said, once more, that life would come back into these halls. The death of the duke, the near tragedy on the lake, all would be forgotten over time. Or at least dulled.
She drew in a deep breath to calm herself, then stepped into the chamber. All the dukes and duchesses were gathered there, with their children in their laps. It was clearly a big family gathering, and for a moment Sarah froze.
Thatwas why Kit had asked her to come, not because of any personal reason. He just wanted her to be a buffer for the children. To do her job.
But that was quickly belied when the Duke of Abernathe got to his feet, smiled at her and said, “There she is, the heroine of the hour!”
He began to clap. To her surprise, all the others joined him, applauding her as she bent her head and absorbed their attention and affection. It was unlike anything she’d ever known. After all, she’d never really fit in anywhere she’d gone. She had been the lower level of Society and now she was the kind of servant who didn’t really fit either. She’d been mostly alone, but never more so than after her mother’s death.
And here she was, being applauded by the most influential group in all of England, save the royal family. It was almost overwhelming, and she found her head swimming with it.
She glanced up to find Kit coming across the room toward her. He had a smile on his face and he held her gaze. She found herself clinging to that, using his easy strength as some kind of buoy.
“I’m sorry I slept so late,” she burst out, wringing her hands in front of her.
His brow wrinkled and his expression softened further. “You needed to rest. I’m happy you’re here now.”
She worried her lip and dared to look up into his eyes once more. “I—we—I—”
He chuckled, and the sound seemed to settle its way into her very blood. “Just say you’ll bear the celebration of the others.”
She nodded at last, unable to think of anything else to do. He offered her an arm, and before she took it, she whispered, “There were flowers by my bedside this morning.”
“Yes. I thought you would miss the ones in your room, so I picked you more and had Jill bring them to you.”
