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“Who says so?”
“Everyone in London did. By implication if not outright. My friends Harriet and Ada are very pretty, you know. And I saw how different the season was for them.”
Kenver felt a flash of anger. “I haven’t met them and can have no opinion, but if they made you feel…”
“Not them!” Sarah interrupted. “Never them. But society…”
“Is narrow-minded and spiteful. We care nothing for society.”
“No.” She sounded doubtful.
Aware that she had reasons, he said, “The Terefords are coming for a visit tomorrow.”
As he’d hoped, this made Sarah smile. “I’m looking forward to seeing Cecelia. They’ve been so occupied with troubles in Leicestershire.”
“What happened there?”
“I haven’t heard any details,” Sarah said. “I do know that the previous duke left the estates in great disarray. The London town house was stuffed to the ceiling with decaying furnishings.”
“How odd.”
“He was, I believe.” Sarah nestled closer, letting her fingers stray, and the deceased duke flew right out of Kenver’s mind.
“I wanted to make certain you were comfortable,” Cecelia said to Sarah the following morning. “If there is anything else you need…”
“You’ve done more than enough,” Sarah interrupted. “We will make our own way from here.”
The duchess examined her face. “You look happier, Sarah.”
“I am. It has been…wonderful to be alone together here.” She blushed as she saw that Cecelia understood her meaning. “But what about you? It must be uncomfortable at Poldene.”
“Lady Trestan’s approach is not to mention anything uncomfortable. And her lord follows her lead. But we have clearly not been forgiven.”
“I’m sorry to be the cause.”
“You know that you are not, Sarah. Lady Trestan creates her own difficulties. Indeed, I suspect she rather enjoys it.”
“Enjoys friction?” Sarah couldn’t imaginewantingto quarrel.
“Some people do.”
If that was true, how would they ever reconcile, Sarah wondered. She had no idea, and she felt she had failed as a future countess. She and Kenver had found physical pleasure and great tenderness here, but would that be enough? Wouldn’t Kenver begin to wish he’d married a grand young lady who could be accepted by his parents?
“It doesn’t matter. We’ll be leaving Poldene soon,” Cecelia added.
“You have other urgent business.”
“There is a problem in Leicestershire at an old hunting box.” She shook her head. “I really cannot imagine Great-Uncle Percival atop a hunter.”
“In his youth perhaps?”
“From all I can learn, his youth was much like his old age—eccentric in the extreme. The hunting box must be a relic of an earlier duke.”
She said no more about the difficulties there, and Sarah didn’t think it right to ask. She would miss Cecelia though.
Kenver and the duke returned from a survey of the Tresigan courtyard, and Sarah proudly served the refreshments that Elys had been rushing about to produce.
“Does that fellow Merlin always lurk out there by the cliff?” the duke asked, gazing out the window.
