He paled. “God’s teeth, the very idea that she would be. Where would she get such a notion?”
Sarah shook her head. “I cannot imagine. A child’s mind twists in its own way. Some offhand comment or something she saw in a story…who knows.”
“Well, I’m glad that my words comforted her in some way.” He dropped his gaze away. “I try to reach out to her, but…”
“It’s difficult,” she finished softly. “You’ve had a great deal to do since…well, since that day.”
He drew a long breath. This wasnotwhy he’d asked her here to talk to her. This momentary connection where she comforted him with her gentle words, her soft tone. He took a long step away, putting his back toward her.
“Well,” he said, sharpening voice. “We will need to be very careful with her for a while.”
“Of course,” she said slowly. He turned to face her and found she had edged toward the door. “Will that be all?”
He arched a brow at the hopeful expression on her lovely face. The fact that she wanted to escape him was evident. It sparked a reaction in his belly that made him set his jaw.
“No,” he said firmly. “My friends will be staying here a while. Is that going to be a problem?”
The color drained from her face slowly and she swallowed, the action making her throat flutter. Her slender, lovely throat.
“What do you mean, Your Grace?” she asked, her voice catching ever so slightly.
He stepped forward. “I saw you and Isabel talking, and you were looking at Simon and Meg. I couldn’t help but think of what I stumbled upon one night not so long ago and if that will impact your ability to perform your duties.”
For a moment she merely stared at him, hands trembling. Then she widened her stance a fraction, as if bracing herself for whatever would come next.
“I assume you are referring to the incident that occurred between myself and the now-Duchess of Crestwood years ago?” she asked, her voice surprisingly strong.
He arched a brow. “I am, indeed.”
“I assure you, Your Grace, that we aren’t going to have a problem,” she said. “I know my place very well and what I am expected to do to keep it. Is that all?”
“For now.”
She blinked at his answer and a momentary terror entered her gaze. Then it was gone and she nodded. “Very good. If you need nothing else from me, I shall go collect your sister and see if she can be coaxed to try to sleep for an hour or so. She is overwrought, and I think it would do her good.”
“Very good.”
She turned and moved to exit the room, but at the doorway, she stopped and faced him once more. “Y-Your Grace, I realize you have been overwhelmed by your duties these past few days. I wanted to tell you again how very sorry I am for your loss. I-I know what it is like to lose a much beloved parent. Good afternoon.”
She walked away, leaving him to gape after her in surprise. Oh, of course he had been given condolences many times in the days since his father’s death. Virtually everyone on his grieving staff had spoken to him and all his friends had done the same. He was certain he would hear many more words like hers in the days, weeks and even months to come, for his father had been much beloved in Society.
But no one had yet framed his loss in the light of their own. No one had expressed empathy of that kind until she had. He looked to the spot at the door where she had spoken to him, and sighed.
He didn’t want the woman here. She made him…uncomfortable in ways he could not articulate in words. But now that she had left him alone in the room, he also felt a little…empty. Like he had missed an opportunity he hadn’t known existed.
He shook his head as he cleared away those odd thoughts. They meant nothing.
Chapter Three
If Sarah had believed there might be trouble to come out of the Duke of Kingsacre’s gathering of friends, the two days following his father’s funeral disabused her of that notion. Kit had not spoken to her since their encounter in the parlor. They had returned, somehow, to the same level of relationship they’d had before.
He watched her. She felt it, though she had no idea what it meant. The rest of the party tiptoed around, quiet and solemn. They kept to themselves and asked for no special quarter from their host or his staff.
“I suppose I should feel good about that,” she muttered to herself as she moved down the hall toward Phoebe’s nursery.
Yet she didn’t. She still felt the guillotine hanging over her neck. Kit could drop it on her at any moment and end her employment. Without a reference, that could mean an end to her life as she knew it.
Her stomach turned.
