Page 105 of Blame It on the Earl (The Duke's Estates 3)

Was his? He wanted to think of him that way, though it didn’t seem to fit. And if it was true, now the fortifications were collapsing.

“My papa seems so to me,” Sarah went on. “He always stands ready to help with any problem that crops up.”

Sarah had learned this from Mr. Moran, Kenver thought. She’d stepped forward to help his father without any question.

“We have long talks about all sorts of things. He loved hearing about what I was reading. I can always make him laugh.” A reminiscent smile lit her features.

It was a beguiling picture and made Kenver realize that his family was not prone to laughter. Tamara had an expansive laugh. Perhaps that was why she couldn’t fit in? No, that was silly.

“We use to play cards in the evening,” Sarah continued. “He and Mama are fierce competitors. How they would dispute over every point!”

Kenver couldn’t quite imagine these scenes. Disputes in his family were…perilous.

“And then we would all laugh ourselves silly.” Sarah laughed a little now.

More laughter. Hearing it and feeling the lift it brought to the room, Kenver thanked providence for his inadvertent wife. Luck had certainly been with him on the cliff at Tintagel. And more than luck. He had known somehow, that night in the sea cave, that she was the one he needed. And so it had proved.

Having eaten what they could, they left the table and went to sit together on the sofa. Kenver put his arm around Sarah and pulled her close. She nestled against him, a palpable consolation.

The servants came to clear away the dishes and close the draperies against the rising dark. When they’d gone, he pulled his wife closer. He didn’t know what he would have done without her at this moment.

Sarah suddenly sat bolt upright. “Herbs!” she exclaimed.

“What?”

“My mother knows all sorts of herbal concoctions,” she said. “She learned from her grandmother when she was a girl. And after she married Papa, she set up a stillroom at our house. People come to her for remedies. I should have thought of that before. How could I not?”

Perhaps because they’d seen so little of her family, Kenver did not say. He knew his mother had resisted a visit, and he suspected Sarah had been ashamed to show them Tresigan. “Won’t the doctor know about those?” he asked.

“He hasn’t suggested any such things.” Sarah grimaced. “Women most often tend herbs, you know, and Dr. Greel seems to think a woman is only good for following his orders. Meekly.”

Kenver decided not to ask what this meant. And then after a moment, he thought he knew.

“I will go and see my mother tomorrow,” Sarah went on. “She will have good advice at least. And perhaps more than that.”

Of course he agreed, though he couldn’t muster much hope.

Seventeen

Sarah set off early the next morning on what would be a long journey for one day. Kenver had ordered the carriage, and his mother had made no objections. Sarah thought Lady Trestan was happy for her to go away for any reason whatsoever. The only thing she’d like better was for Sarah never to come back. In that, she would be disappointed.

Driving up the lane that led to her childhood house, Sarah felt a pang. This solid, unpretentious building still felt more like home than anywhere else in the world. She’d taken it for granted in her early years. Now she cherished all the indefinable things that added up to happiness. She hoped to create her own version of it someday—safe and comfortable and…joyous. Not perfect, not without disagreements and pains, but full of love.

A familiar servant let her in with a broad smile. Sarah walked through the sights and smells and sounds of memory to the sunny parlor where they always sat in the mornings.

Her mother greeted her with pleased surprise. “Sarah. How lovely. I had no word of a visit.”

“I was nearly as fast as a messenger would have been,” Sarah replied, taking off her bonnet and gloves.

“Come and sit. How glad I am to see you. This last year, I grew accustomed to being with my grown-up daughter, after your time away at school. Perhaps you’ll stay a while? Overnight?”

“No, I can’t.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Yes, Mama.” Sarah clasped her hands in her lap. “The nurse has told us that the earl is dying.”

“Oh dear. I’m sorry. We knew he was ailing, of course. We would have come to see you…”

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