“I shall have to think of a proper punishment,” he drawled, and caught himself. He was growling and drawling and it was all very rakish of him.
She blushed. “I—truly I only thought to peek in on Phoebe. She was so upset after yesterday’s events. Even this morning, she gripped my hand so tightly.”
“I know,” he said gently. “But she is not here at present. You see, she helped the duchesses with the babies, drew you what I’m certain is a lovely picture and then managed to convince Charlotte and Ewan to take her for a walk. She is obsessed with Ewan’s hand language and learning words from him all the time.”
Sarah ducked her head with a secret smile that told him she’d noticed Phoebe’s infatuation with his silent friend, as well. “I see. Well, she will glory in all that attention and not need me a whit.”
“She’ll always need you,” he said softly. Then he motioned for the parlor she’d just exited. “Diana did mention you should rest. Will you join me?”
She glanced over her shoulder and he saw her uncertainty. It stopped him in his tracks. She’d liked kissing him last night, but it was possible she’d thought better of it since. Being alone with him might not be what she actually wanted.
He stepped nearer. “You have every right to say no. Always, Sarah.”
She worried her lip. “I’m not worried about saying no. Yes seems to be more…likely.”
Awareness rushed through him at that simple statement and all the meaning behind it. He wanted nothing more than to back her against the parlor door and kiss her until they were both senseless. He fought the urge and instead opened it for her and motioned her in.
“Sit,” he said. “I’ll ring for tea.”
She did as he’d asked and sat quietly as he arranged the service to be sent in. As they waited for refreshments, he faced her again and found her staring at a painting above the fire. It was of him and his father, done years ago. His father was seated, looking formal in black. Kit stood just behind him, a hand on his shoulder. His father’s hand covered his.
“I’ve always liked that one,” she said without looking at him. “The way his hand lays on yours is so loving.”
He stepped up beside her and only just kept from resting his hand on her shoulder now, mimicking the painting. “It is. We had just lost my mother. We’re both still in black.”
She flinched. “I’m sorry. I should have guessed by your age, by the outfits. It was uncouth of me to point it out.”
“Why?” he asked. “It is a loving portrait. We were two bachelors after that.”
“Your father never remarried,” she said carefully.
He hesitated. There were not many people who he talked to about his father’s…existenceafter his mother’s death. But he didn’t have to decide immediately if Sarah would be one of them, for the door opened and tea was brought. He waved off the maid with a smile and poured Sarah’s tea after the girl left. Once she’d taken it, he moved to the door and shut it.
Leaving them completely and inappropriately alone. She watched him as he took his own tea and then sat across from her, holding her gaze evenly.
“He loved my mother,” he said, picking up from where they had been interrupted. “She was sick a very short time, and I think he was shocked to lose her. For years he buried himself in this estate, in his work, in me. He didn’t look at another woman, not that there wasn’t interest. I see now that he was quite the catch.”
She laughed. “It’s hard to see our parents in those terms. Or think they were ever young and carefree.”
“You must wonder about Phoebe’s mother.” He said the words carefully and hoped his tone remained neutral.
She set her cup down and looked at him. “I heard some of the whispers,” she admitted. “Not that he would have a child, but that he would take her in, raise her without hesitation. I always thought it admirable of him, even more so when I saw their deep connection.”
“The woman was…an ill-advised foray outside of his exile from romantic life,” Kit said, setting his jaw. “She wanted his money. Oh, of course he would have settled on a mistress. She wanted more than that. She wanted far more than was reasonable. When she became with child, there was no easier way to blackmail him into keeping her in lavish comfort all her days. She made threats and a great deal of trouble. He paid her a pretty penny for Phoebe. She was worth every cent.”
“I had no idea,” she said with a shake of her head. “She took advantage of him. Of her daughter. Not well played.”
“Indeed,” he said, and leaned in. “DidItake advantage?”
Her brow wrinkled and she looked genuinely confused by the question. “What?”
“Last night when I came to you,” he said. “Tensions were high, as were emotions. Our positions are so disparate. I need to know if I took advantage when I kissed you.”
Her lips parted and she got to her feet slowly. He did the same, trained in the action by years of politeness.
“No,” she whispered. “I almost died yesterday, Kit. And I refuse to be missish or coy or dishonest about anything anymore. Life is too short to be so. I will tell you I never expected you to kiss me. But I…I liked it a great deal. I have not stopped thinking about it since you left me in that room.”
His breath caught, his heart rate increased, and he took another long step toward her. Close enough to reach out, to touch her. He wanted to so badly, but he needed permission like breath. “Would you like to do it again?”
