A Duke’s Overlooked Spinster (The Courting Season #1)

Chapter 24

Sarah gazed out of the window through the chink in her bedroom curtains, the cloud-gray daylight seeping in. She covered her face with her hands.

“I can’t do it,” she whispered to the empty room.

She had barely slept all night, and she had woken with no more resolve than she had felt when she got into bed.

She knew, with all her heart, that the duchess was right. She would only harm Henry with her presence at the manor. She was no duchess—if the duke ever entertained the idea of including her in his life, it would only lead to the destruction of everything they both wished for Henry to have.

But at the same time, how could she turn away? The little boy liked her.

She had taken care of him for the past two days, keeping his fever at bay with cold towels and herbal teas sent up from the kitchen. She had sat at his bedside until he slept and read him stories when he awoke. She had brought Buttons to play with him and the little dog refused to leave, sleeping on his bed even though Mrs. Wellman evidently did not approve. Henry relaxed when she was there, sometimes laughing as she read him stories, trusting her to give him water or tea and to help him out of bed when he needed to relieve himself. She had been there when he was at his most vulnerable and he had trusted and welcomed her.

Sarah let her hands fall to her lap and her eyes moved to the ceiling as she stared upwards, wishing for guidance. She could either stay at the manor and tell the duke outright what his mother had said and make him see that she would ruin Henry’s world—or she could simply run away.

“Caroline will be upset,” she said aloud to the empty room. Caroline had said many times that Sarah belonged with the guests, that she should not feel pushed out simply because the duchess wished her to. At the same time, she could not believe Caroline’s kind words over the cruel ones of the duchess. The duchess was telling the truth, brutal though it was. Caroline was her cousin and was blinded by her own fondness.

Sarah stood up from the bed. Her stomach was knotting queasily, but deep down, she knew exactly what to do.

“Shh, little fellow.”

Buttons was stirring—he always jumped to his feet the moment she moved, wanting to go outside to play. She bent down to ruffle his fur and then strode out into the hallway, Buttons following her.

She led him outside into the garden for a run and to relieve himself, walking down the long, brick-paved path while he ran around the front lawn. She did not want to linger near the house. It was early, but the duchess might be out on her morning stroll, and she could not bear to see her. She had decided what she would do, and she did not need to see the duchess again and have more of her venom poured into her wounds.

She strode down the path to the place where she had sat overlooking the estate. Her heart twisted painfully. She remembered Henry joining her on the bench, his little face lit with excitement when she drew the horse for him. She recalled how delighted he was to see Buttons, and how much she had enjoyed watching the two play. She loved Henry.

“I love the duke,” she whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek.

She had tried to ignore the fact that she had fallen in love, but it was impossible to ignore. She knew without question that it was true.

She bit her lip, fighting the awareness. She could not allow herself to follow that path, to risk that the duke might return her feelings. To do so would bring ruin to the being who they both loved—little Henry.

“God, help me,” she whispered.

She had to be brave. She had to flee the house before it was too late.

Her heart ached. She could not run away from Henry with no explanation. Caroline was an adult—if she discovered Sarah gone, a cursory note left to explain her whereabouts, it would not be so bad. But Henry was just a child—he deserved more than that. He needed more than that.

She would rather avoid facing the duke and telling him directly that she could not allow whatever was happening between them. She couldn’t say it. If she saw him, she would melt. If she melted, she would let him know she loved him. And if he loved her, then they would both doom Henry’s chances of a good life. Society would reject him, and she knew how powerful that could be. A person rejected from society lost more than just their peers. They lost their investment possibilities, their credibility, their future. They lost everything that made it possible to live the life that they would have lived.

“I cannot do that to Henry.”

She blinked, the tears starting. She felt her hands make fists as she fought to find the strength to do what she had to do. Buttons ran over, yipping and barking. He clearly sensed her distress. She bent down and lifted him to her chest, hugging him so tight that she stopped, lest she harm him.

“Shh, little fellow,” she said softly through her tears. “We can do this.”

She hugged him close and walked into the house, clutching the little puppy to her. With him in her arms, she could face Henry, could tell him the truth. Without Buttons, she would lose all sense of sanity.

She marched up to the bedroom. Guests were starting to emerge into the hallway, chatting quietly on their way to the breakfast-room. She walked past them, heading directly to Henry’s room. The door that led from the duke’s room was only one of the ways into the little bedroom, which was part of a guest-chamber. She knocked on the outer door, biting her lip. She had to talk to Henry now, before she lost all her strength—but what if he was asleep? She did not wish to wake him.

The door opened instantly. Mrs. Wellman appeared. She was frowning. “Miss Brooke?” she welcomed her in a friendly tone, despite the frown. “What brings you here?”

“I...is Henry awake?” she asked at once. “I wished to call on him.”

“He is awake,” Mrs. Wellman, said, her expression instantly more friendly. “Would you like to step in now?”

“Please,” Sarah agreed, her voice shaking. Buttons was in her arms, and he yipped with excitement the moment he realized where they were going. Sarah held onto him, tears forming in her eyes. She fought them back.

“Sarah!” Henry yelled. He had begun using her name while he was recovering, and she smiled to see him looking so well. He was dressed—he had not been out of bed except in necessity, for two days, and she delighted to see him so clearly feeling a bit better.

“Henry,” she greeted him as lightly as she could. “Someone wanted to visit you,” she added, putting Buttons on the bed. The little boy ran to the dog, throwing himself full-length on the bed and rolling with Buttons on the coverlet. The little dog was play-wrestling with him, grabbing the arm of his shirt and tugging in a playful tug-of-war that made Sarah chuckle even as the tears formed.

“Henry? Will you take breakfast in the breakfast-room?" Mrs. Wellman asked the boy. Sarah tensed. She did not know how to explain to Mrs. Wellman that she wanted to talk with Henry on her own—she was sometimes there, sometimes not, when she spent time with Henry, but Sarah was not sure how a request to spend time alone with him would be taken up.

“No, Mrs. Wellman,” Henry said instantly: polite but surprisingly firm for so young a child. “I would like to stay here.”

Sarah let out a sigh of relief. Mrs. Wellman gestured to the door.

“I will go and fetch breakfast. Would you like something, Miss Brooke? A cup of tea?”

“Thank you,” Sarah said quickly. “But no. I will take breakfast later.”

“Of course, Miss.”

Mrs. Wellman withdrew, and Sarah gestured to Henry to sit down on the bed. He sat down, Buttons tussling with him again in a way that made him chuckle loudly.

“Henry,” Sarah said, unable to hold back her tears. “I need to tell you something.”

“What?” Henry asked at once. “Am I very sick?”

“No. No,” Sarah said quickly, amused despite the gravity of the situation. “No, dear. No, you’re not that sick. But I need to tell you that I am going home today.”

“What?” Henry gaped. “Sarah. I want you to stay.”

Sarah shook her head. She was crying now, unable to stop herself. She was fighting to hold onto her calm, quiet facade, but she could not do it. She would miss the child more than she could say and there was no way she could hide the truth.

“I cannot,” she said, sobbing despite herself. “I have to go back home. I need to get there quickly,” she lied.

“No,” Henry said firmly. “No. You cannot go. I need you.”

Sarah shook her head. “No, Henry. I have to. Buttons will stay. You will be happy if you have him,” she added. “He will have such fun here,” she explained, tears pouring down her face. She could not bear it.

“No,” Henry said again, shaking his head. “I need you too.”

Sarah stifled a sob and came and sat down on the bed. “I love you, Henry,” she said, not caring anymore if she let him know the truth. He should know, regardless of whether that burdened him or not. “I love you. But I need you to be brave. I need to be brave. I have to go home. You will be well. And maybe...”

“Maybe you will visit me,” Henry said firmly. He looked up at her, his blue eyes as tormented as she felt. “You will visit me, won’t you? Won’t you...?”

Sarah swallowed hard. She did not know what to say. She could not explain to him that it was not possible, that she wished not to see his father again. She could not risk seeing his father again because of her own feelings, her own love. She could not explain that to a child.

“Sarah?” Henry demanded.

Sarah cleared her throat, praying that the words would come—the right words, whatever they were. At that moment, the door burst open.

“Visits will not be necessary,” the duke said in a tone that made Sarah’s blood go cold.