“Do any of them tell stories as well as I do?” Kit asked.
She seemed to ponder it for a moment. “Sarah’s stories are almost as good.”
Sarah smiled at the concession. “Thank you very much.”
“Well, I shall have to do better.” He glanced at his guests and Sarah. “Excuse me.” He sent Sarah a meaningful look, then exited the room with a loud, “Once upon a time there was a dragon…”
“Kit!” they could hear Phoebe squealing. “The dragon cannot be the hero of a story!”
Their voices faded away, and Sarah leaned against the back of the chair as emotion overtook her. Kit loved his sister and Phoebe adored him in return. If she was harmed, even in the slightest, he would never forgive himself. And who knew what a woman like Hannah Beckett could do?
Would do.
“What happened?” Lucas asked softly, his gaze never leaving Sarah’s face.
“Yes, did the afternoon not go…well?” Diana asked.
Sarah blinked. “It was fine. Kit and I were having a talk, a very odd talk, quite honestly, and then…”
She glanced toward the door. It was not her place to tell Kit’s friends about what had happened, but it felt like it was. And he would need their help, wouldn’t he? Perhaps not having to repeat the awfulness of that day would be a help to him.
“And then?”
She let out her breath in a long sigh. “Do you know who Hannah Beckett is?” she asked.
Lucas exchanged a glance with Diana and then shrugged. “I went into the War Department in 1803. I was out of the loop with most of my friends for a long time, until Diana brought me home to them. I don’t recognize the name.”
“Sit down,” Sarah said. “It’s a long story, I think.”
They all sat, and Sarah told them what she knew about the past and what had happened that day before their return. Both of them sat silent through her recitation, not even asking for clarification. Once she had sunk back on the settee in emotional exhaustion, they looked at each other.
“She’s come back now,” Lucas said to Diana, not to Sarah. “You think it truly is just because of the duke’s death?”
“No,” Diana responded softly. “Kit said desperation. She’s out of money or in trouble, I would wager. Something else is driving her.”
They faced Sarah together and Lucas said, “Does Kit truly think she would harm Phoebe?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But after just spending a quarter of an hour with the woman, my skin crawled from her cruelty and disregard for her own child. I don’t know how far she would go, but I also don’t think she cares about creating damage on some level if it gets her what she wants.”
Lucas frowned. “Stalwood?” he said softly.
Sarah didn’t know what that name meant, but Diana seemed to, for she nodded. “He could bring resources to bear. Investigate. Should we head for London now instead of wait until tomorrow as we planned?”
“I’m not sure,” Lucas said. “I’d want to talk to Kit. He might need us here instead. I could send fast riders to London before we could reach there with a carriage, at any rate. Get Stalwood started for us.”
Before Sarah could ask for clarification, the door opened again and Kit reentered the room. His face was drawn, pale. Sarah stood up and came toward him.
“She’s asleep?” she asked softly.
He nodded. “Despite telling me five times that she was not tired, too old for naps and that she needed a higher fire, then a lower fire.”
Sarah laughed. “That sounds familiar.” She took his hand and held it a moment, wishing she could transfer any strength she had to him. “I-I told Diana and Lucas,” she said, glancing over at the couple, who smiled gently at them. “And now I think I shall let you talk to them yourself. I’ll go…I’ll just go make sure she’s…safe.”
He held her gaze for a long moment before he said, “Thank you.”
She nodded and slipped away, feeling utterly helpless and completely unsure of her place with him.
Kit sank into the settee Sarah had abandoned when he entered the room and stared across at his two friends. He was just as happy not to have to retell the terrible exchange with Hannah Beckett. He only wished he could stop reliving it in his own mind.
