“We will depart now. Some of the guests wish to see the baths.”
“Of course,” Sarah replied.
The message was passed along and soon all the guests were standing to depart. This time, Caroline and Edward allowed the duchess to exit first, before Caroline and Sarah followed along with the other ladies. The guests moved out along the street, and as they did, Sarah saw a small presence running towards her. Behind him, a dark-clad nursemaid ran, doing her best to catch up with the small boy, frowning fearfully.
“Henry!” the woman called.
“Miss! Miss!” Henry declared, racing up to Sarah. “There you are. Look! I made you a present.”
Sarah’s eyes widened as the little boy thrust a piece of paper into her hand. She looked down, frowning, then her lips lifted in a smile. On the paper was drawn a dog, the sketch childlike but nonetheless somehow artistic, the tail sketched in with a flourishing hand.
“It’s beautiful!” she declared, holding it to her chest. “I will keep it forever.” She reached for her reticule, putting the sketch inside.
“It’s just for you! I made it yesterday,” the boy said. “Do you like dogs?”
“I love them,” Sarah declared.
“Henry! Come. Leave the lady in peace,” the nursemaid said, hurrying up and taking Henry’s hand. Sarah shook her head.
“He is welcome to bother me,” she told the nursemaid with a friendly smile. “He is no nuisance at all.”
“Henry! Son! Did you enjoy your walk?” the duke asked, coming up behind Sarah. He bent down, lifting the boy into his arms.
“Yes, Papa,” the boy said, nestling close to his father. “And did you like the tea?”
“We drank water,” the duke said with a grin, seeing the boy’s frown.
“Why?” Henry asked.
“Because that’s what people do in Bath,” the duke said, and squeezed his son in a hug. “Did you give Miss Brooke a present?”
“I did! I made a picture for her!”
“Good.” The duke smiled at Sarah, and she stood with him and, just for a moment, in the warmth of the duke’s eyes and Henry’s childish delight, she felt as though she was part of a family.
Then the duke turned to the coach, helping Henry up into it, and the feeling shifted.
Sarah stood where she was on the pavement, gazing at the duke as he retreated into the coach and wondering if she would see him later. She had so much she wished to say.
Chapter 13
“Son! Where have you been?”
Robert turned to answer his mother, who was standing on the pavement behind him, near the coach. He glanced around, ensuring that Miss Brooke was not standing too close to them. He winced with embarrassment at the thought of how regularly his mother managed to say something that was rude about her.
“I was in the Pump Room all morning, Mama, along with the others.” His reply was unruffled. Inside he was seething. She talked to him as though he was Henry’s age and expected obedience from him.
“You were making a fool out of yourself,” his mother hissed. They were alone on the pavement, the other guests either continuing on past the coaches towards the Baths, or already seated and ready to depart back to the manor. “That was what I saw you doing.”
“Mama!” Robert tried to hush the fury in his tone, but he could not help it.
“It is true. Do not even think to question it. That woman is completely unknown in society. She’s from some obscure barony that nobody has ever even heard of. And she’s the same age as Victoria!” She said this last as though that was terribly scandalous.
“Mama, I am much older than Victoria,” Robert said carefully.
“That is not valid to my discussion,” his mother said fustily. “My point is, she is no debutante. She is not suitable, Robert. Mark my words, you’ll be the biggest fool in London when this scandal finds its way into the newspapers there.” She sniffed, her back to Robert as though she declined to be seen with him.
Robert felt his temper fray and he clenched a fist, willing himself to control his rage before he said something that hemight regret later. She was his mother, after all, even though she was also the most vexatious person that he’d met. He took a deep breath and replied as politely as he could.
