They were both laughing as they stepped out into the hallway.
The corridor was empty, but they could hear the sound of the male guests on the stairs. The ladies exited first, being led to the drawing room by the most senior-ranking lady among the guests. The hostess would enter last. Then the gentlemen were escorted to the billiard room by the most senior-ranking man,the host at the back of the line. Sarah wondered briefly if the duke had led the men up to the billiard room.
Stop it,she told herself with a small grin.The duke’s business is no business of yours.
All the same, when she recalled his smile and the way that he had looked at her when they conversed, a strange feeling shimmered through her body, like the way the sunlight played on leaves. Her skin flushed hot, and her heart thudded.
Someone laughed in the corridor—one of the men, walking past the door on the way to the billiard room, and her cheeks flared with warmth. She was absolutely certain that it was the duke. She could recognize the pitch of his voice even after the few times they had conversed together. She turned swiftly, looking to the door, but if he had been there, then he was no longer, the row of men in dark tailcoats and breeches moving past the door at a good pace towards the billiard room. She was surprised at a twist of disappointment in her heart.
“Sarah, dear! Would you like some tea?” Caroline asked, gesturing towards a table. Sarah shook her head.
“I shan’t sleep if I drink tea now,” she said with a wry smile. “But if you have some lemonade, I would welcome the refreshment.” She sat down in the seat that Caroline had indicated, relieved to see that the dowager duchess was at another table by the window. At their table was Lady Egerton, and another young lady with a gentle face and a mass of pale curls. Caroline gestured to the young woman.
“Sarah, may I have the honour of presenting you to Lady Philipa Claremont? She is the wife of Lord Charles Claremont, brother to the duke of Clairwood. My lady, I present my cousin, the honourable Miss Sarah Brooke.”
“I am pleased to meet you,” Sarah said shyly.
“Delighted,” Lady Philipa Claremont said at once. “I am very pleased Lady Averhill thought to invite us to her home. It is so beautiful here, is it not?”
“Very beautiful,” Sarah said at once, smiling warmly at the friendly young woman. Lady Egerton, the duke’s sister, was smiling at them both, including Sarah in the group with ease. Sarah could see a resemblance to the duke, if she looked—both were tall, both had long, oval-shaped faces. Lady Egerton had a softened jawline and an altogether softer appearance, though she had the same long, slender nose and a bright look. Her eyes, however, were so dark that they were almost black, her hair likewise black. Charles, the duke’s brother, also had a resemblance to him, and was likewise blond and blue-eyed, though his face was slimmer and softer, more like Lady Egerton’s than like the duke.
“I cannot wait to go to Bath itself,” Lady Philipa continued. “There is so much to see.”
“And to do,” Lady Egerton said with a grin.
“It is a beautiful town,” Sarah agreed. She hoped that Caroline might allow her to slip into town and sketch some of the buildings—her fingers ached with the urge to sketch the magnificent architecture.
“Quite exquisite,” Lady Egerton agreed.
Sarah leaned back on her chair, feeling comfortable with the two women. Caroline was almost never seated; circulating among the guests or quietly directing the staff who hovered about the edges of the room. However, even without her cousin there, it felt easy to talk to the two women, who already felt like friends.
As the evening wore on, the ladies slowly excusing themselves from the drawing room and making their way to their chambers in the vast manor, Sarah found that she was weary and exhausted, but happy.
“Thank you, Caroline,” she murmured as their guests departed and they found themselves the only two people in the room. “It has been a lovely evening.”
“It was not altogether so bad, was it?” Caroline said with a grin. “Thank you, Sarah. It was lovely to have you here with us.”
Sarah squeezed her cousin’s hand, too overcome to speak. Having spent so many years isolated with Papa in the manor, seeing only their nearest neighbors, Sarah had forgotten how warm and pleasant—andnecessary—human company could be. Speaking with diverting new people, being among friendly presences, hearing laughter and chatter—it was uplifting in ways that she had forgotten. She smiled at Caroline, trying to convey her gratitude.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“I’m quite exhausted,” Caroline said with a grin, lifting her hand to her lips. “Goodnight, dear cousin. I will see you in the morning. Even the staff should go to bed now,” she added, gesturing to Mr. Edgehill, who was standing near the door. “You should go to bed,” Caroline told him. “You can clear this up tomorrow.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Sarah smiled to herself; her heart filled with warmth towards her cousin. She wandered up the corridor to her chamber, almost too tired to walk. The fire was low in the grate, the room in almost darkness when she entered. She had asked Abigail to retire to bed rather than wait to help her to undress, and she collapsed onto the bed, grateful for the space and peace and time alone in the silent, darkened room.
“Whew,” she murmured as she sat up, reaching up to unpin her hair from the confining chignon. Her temples hurt with having her hair bound tightly back all night, her body aching with staying awake so long after a night of poor sleep. It had been exhausting, but it was also diverting and uplifting.
“How strange he is,” she murmured, tugging on a clean nightdress and slipping into bed. It was the duke who occupied her thoughts. She recalled repeatedly the way he had stared at her across the table, that gaze sending a shiver down her spine. She remembered the conversation that they had, how easy and comfortable it was, how enjoyable it was to talk to him and how he—and she—had laughed. Each word they had said played through her mind, and she smiled as she remembered it.
“It is so strange,” she murmured to herself in the darkness, and rolled over, tucking the covers up over her shoulder. The duke filled her with so many feelings—confusion, bemusement, and even discomfort; a strange, wonderful discomfort. But talking to him was the most enjoyable, diverting thing that she could remember doing.
It was very strange, and she wished that somebody could explain to her what these odd new feelings meant and what it was all about.
Chapter 7
The morning sunshine slanted through the curtains, hurting Robert’s eyes. He winced and pulled the curtain shut, then shook his head. It was eight o’ clock and time he readied himself to join the rest of the household for breakfast. He tugged on the pale brown trousers and high-necked shirt that he had left out on the back of the chair. As he dressed, his mind wandered over the events of the previous evening.
