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“My esteemed guests,” the duke said, standing and lifting a glass. “Good morning to you all, and I thank you for staying on. This celebration has extended longer than I thought it would, and for that, I’m grateful. Please, provide your company as long as you wish.”
There was light applause from the guests, and Sarah smiled to herself. For all the characteristics that she didn’t care for in the Duke of Faversham, his hospitality was not one of them. Despite his controlling nature, he was a gracious man, and for that, Sarah must be respectful.
Since arriving at the estate, breakfast had been served in the same grand manner as the rest of the meals. No one served themselves from the sideboard, but a team of footmen were assigned to each guest, ensuring that their dishes were served at the same time.
The breakfast spread was more lavish than the day before—a selection of omelets, sausages, stewed tomatoes, mushrooms, fresh fruit and cream, and even seared lamb. It was the kind of breakfast that was fit for a king, and considering that the Duke of Faversham had the income of a king, it was all to be expected.
At the far end of the table sat Lisbeth and Lord John, enjoying pleasant conversation. And even farther down the table was Reginald, which Sarah assumed was no accident. He smiled warmly at her, and Sarah felt a flush come over her cheeks. He was more handsome than ever before, and perhaps this was because Sarah couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss.
Once breakfast was concluded, all the guests retired to their rooms to enjoy their own pursuits—writing letters, reading, sewing, studying maps. These society pleasures were what Sarah was raised on, and she still enjoyed them.
Considering that she hadn’t practiced in some time, Sarah procured an instructional book in French and brought it to her room. The lady-in-waiting had a cup of warm cocoa waiting for her. Sarah sipped the cocoa as she practiced her nouns, until there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” she said, thinking that it was most definitely Lisbeth.
Reginald opened the door, and Sarah felt her heart leap, setting down the book in a stupor.
“I apologize if I’ve interrupted you.”
“It’s quite all right.” Sarah’s eyes were wide.
Reginald smiled warmly and entered the room, closing the door behind him. Sarah felt her stomach flip as he did so. Yet again, they were alone, just as her father instructed her not to do.
“May I ask what you’re reading?” Reginald cocked his head.
“Oh … French. I haven’t studied it in some time.” Sarah held up the book for him to see, and he took it from her hands, opening it.
“Is there anything that you cannot do?” he asked.
“I’m sure there are plenty of things that I cannot do. Please understand, I’ve had a great deal of time on my hands in this life.”
“Would you mind if I sat?”
“I wish that you would.”
Reginald pushed back his tails and seated himself. Sarah looked nervously at the door, hoping that her father had gone out for a stroll or retired to the library.
Reginald’s voice was hushed. “I needed to see you.”
Sarah leaned in, her voice equally hushed. “I needed to see you, as well. You were so far away at breakfast.”
“That was intentional.”
“Precisely what I was thinking.”
There was a moment of silence as they smiled at one another, Reginald’s eyes shining in the morning light.
“About last night … ” Sarah began to say.
“It’s all that I can think of.”
“I admit to the same.”
“Trust that I shall never take advantage of that moment.” Reginald pulled his hand through his hair. “I mean … no one will ever know, and I do not wish to put you in a position again where you feel pressured.”
Sarah didn’t know how to respond. Never once did she feel pressured in his presence. Everything was of her own volition—and her own desire.
