Page 39 of The Wedding-Crashing Duchess

Sarah’s eyes lifted, and Augusta saw the beginning of curiosity in them.

“Are you frightened of him?” Sarah asked.

The question came so quietly that Augusta almost missed it.

“Not now,” Augusta replied.

Sarah studied her. “Were you before?”

Augusta hesitated, and she knew the easy answer would be to deny it, although the girl had asked with too much seriousness for Augusta to dismiss her.

“I was uncertain of him,” Augusta said. “I had seen something frightening before I met him, and when I saw his cane, I thought he might have been connected to it, so I judged him before I knew him properly.”

“Did Father know?”

“Oh, yes,” Augusta replied, and despite herself, she smiled. “I announced my suspicions in front of a church full of people, so there was very little chance of keeping them from him.”

Sarah’s eyes widened. “You said it in church?”

“I did,” Augusta admitted. “It was not my finest moment, although I believed I was protecting someone, and when I think a person may be in danger, I do not always remember to consider whether my manners will survive.”

“Was Father angry?”

“He was furious,” Augusta said, and then she lowered her voice as though sharing a secret. “He looked at me as though he had never encountered anyone so troublesome in his life.”

Sarah’s mouth trembled at the corners.

“Did he shout?”

“No,” Augusta replied. “He became very quiet, which was considerably worse.”

Sarah smiled then, although it was small and quickly hidden.

“He does that,” she said.

“He does,” Augusta agreed. “Still, I have learned that his silence does not always mean what people think it means, and sometimes he says nothing when he is uncertain, while everyone assumes he is displeased.”

Sarah’s smile faded, and she looked at the book again.

“He is always quiet with me,” she said.

Augusta let the words settle before answering.

“What would you like him to say?” she asked.

Sarah shrugged, although the movement appeared too careful to be careless.

“I do not know,” she replied. “He asks whether I have behaved well, and he asks whether my lessons are finished, and sometimes he asks whether I need anything.”

“And what do you tell him?”

“I tell him I do not need anything,” Sarah said.

“Is that true?”

Sarah did not answer.

Augusta waited, and when the child continued staring at the illustration, she spoke again.