“Miss Hannah Beckett is here, Your Grace,” Barrymore said.
Kit froze and his gaze became focused entirely on the butler. “What?”
Sarah stared between the men. It was clear the woman’s name meant something to them both, though she didn’t recognize it. Still, she was seized with an irrational fear. Was this a former lover of Kit’s? Someone he loved? Was that what he was trying to tell her when he babbled about her future, that he already had his set in stone?
“Where is she?” Kit growled. Sarah shook her head. He didn’t sound happy, that was certain. Not like he had heard that someone he cared about had come to call.
“In the blue parlor, Your Grace,” Barrymore said. He lifted his chin in defiance. “And there is a guard standing by with the door open to be sure she doesn’t take anything of value.”
“Is she alone?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” Kit said. “Good. Don’t let her leave and don’t let her near Phoebe, do you understand? If God forbid their group returns before this is dealt with, tell Lucas to take Phoebe somewhere else.”
“I shall, Your Grace.”
“I’ll be there in a moment to…” His face pinched in disgust. “To handle her.”
Barrymore nodded and backed out, leaving Kit and Sarah alone again. She moved forward now that they had some privacy. “Kit?”
He jumped, almost like he’d forgotten she was there. His face had gone deathly pale and his dark eyes were filled with tangled emotion. Her heart leapt, but this time it wasn’t from desire at being near to him. It was fear for whatever had put him in this state.
“Who is Hannah Beckett?” she asked. “Who is she to make you and Barrymore react so strongly?”
He let out his breath in a scoffing snort. “She is a demon disguised as a woman,” he said, but there was no heat to his words, only worry. “She is someone who agreed never to come here again. She was, in fact, paid a huge sum of money so she would stay away.”
Sarah caught his hand and tugged it against her chest, holding tight and feeling him tremble. “Phoebe’s mother?”
His expression crumpled slightly and his voice broke as he whispered, “Yes. Phoebe’s mother.”
Sarah caught her breath, but she didn’t release Kit’s hand, and for that he was grateful. Right now it felt like she was the only thing anchoring him in this horror.
It was so unfair. He’d been trying, badly perhaps, but trying nonetheless, to tell this woman how deeply he cared for her. To ask her to marry him. And then…this.
And now all he could focus on was Hannah Beckett and the danger she meant to his sister. Everything else had to wait.
“Her mother,” Sarah repeated. “You told me a little about her.”
“I could write books about her,” he grunted. “And how she used my father, seduced him when he was lonely. Phoebe has been a bargaining chip for her from the moment Hannah knew that a child was growing inside her.”
Anger overwhelmed him. Pain. He remembered how upset his father had been when he had to admit that his affair with the woman had gone wrong. How foolish he’d felt when her cruelty was let loose and how fearful for the baby they had produced together.
“That bad?” Sarah whispered.
He nodded. “Worse. I…I was worse, too. I told my father to walk away at the time. To just surrender the baby, told him that she might not even be his. Cruel words, they feel like now, when Phoebe was such a light to his life, is such a joy to my own.” He bent his head, self-loathing overcoming him.
“It sounds like this Beckett woman was not someone you wanted to have holding something over you,” Sarah said gently. “And you wanted to protect your father. He ignored that advice.”
“I’m glad he did. But the fight that ensued was painful to say the least. She hid from him. She lied and said she’d lost the baby. Then she showed up again and demanded he take care of her. Marry her. He almost did it.”
“He was a man of honor,” Sarah said. “What stopped him?”
Kit turned his face. “He found out she was with some new man. That they had a plan to get her married to my father and then take him for even more. They even stole some of my mother’s jewelry. That ended any warm feelings my father might have been nursing. Hannah had the baby, he offered her five thousand pounds to just…go away. Never see Phoebe again.”
“She took it?” Sarah whispered, her disbelief thick in her voice.
Kit walked away. “She laughed and told him he could have offered her a thousand and she would have done it. She never wanted her daughter. She walked away without so much as a letter to inquire after her in five years. And now she’s here and I can damned well promise you she doesn’t want to hold Phoebe close and form a real connection.”
His fear was obvious in his tone, and Sarah moved forward, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks. The touch was soothing and he was once again sorry he hadn’t been able to complete his ill-said proposal.
But she was here. And that was enough for now.
“Kit, you know what she is,” she said softly. “And Phoebe is safe with Diana and Lucas—there is no one aside from yourself that would protect her more.”
“You,” he said.
“Aside from the two of us,” she corrected. “You aren’t alone. We will face this woman and whatever she’s come for together.”
He stared at her. He knew he should refuse. Protect her from the ugliness that would surely transpire once they entered that room. But he couldn’t. He needed Sarah at his side, her strength at his back. Her advice once he’d heard Hannah’s demands.
“I would like to have you with me,” he said softly.
“Of course,” she whispered, and her fingers traced his cheeks gently before she released him and straightened her shoulders. She was ready for battle, it seemed. And he had to be too.
“Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “We’ve a dragon to slay.”
Chapter Nineteen
It wasn’t a guard at the door so much as one of the footmen, and the young man looked nervous as Kit and Sarah came down the hall together. He glanced into the open room and nodded to them. “She’s just been sitting, Your Grace. Having tea.”
“Barrymore brought her tea?” Kit muttered. But of course he would. Kit’s father had been the kind of man who would serve tea to his enemy because it was the polite thing to do. One didn’t behave according to the actions of others, but by their own moral compass.
Something Kit was struggling with as he nodded to the boy. “You may go, Carver. Find Barrymore, he will tell you what to do.” The footman scurried off and Kit exchanged a look with Sarah. “She can be charming when she wishes,” he said softly. “Don’t be fooled.”
Sarah squeezed his hand with a nod and then let him step into the room with her a pace behind him. When he did, Hannah looked up from her tea without rising and smirked at him.
He stared. The woman had always been voluptuous and attractive—there had been no doubt why his father had been seduced. But she’d lost what looked to be almost two stone since he’d last seen her in his father’s parlor in London as she handed over Phoebe. She looked tired, sallow, unkept. Her red hair was piled on her head in a sloppy bun. Her bright blue eyes, however, had not lost any of their sharp and manipulative intelligence.
“Christopher, Christopher,” she murmured as she set her cup aside and folded her hands on her lap. “Duke at last.”
Kit set his jaw. “Have a care, Miss Beckett,” he growled.
She arched a brow and looked past him to Sarah. He found himself wanting to step in front of her, shield her from Hannah’s watchful stare. “And who is your friend?” she drawled.
“Miss Sarah Carlton,” he said. “She is my—”
“Governess.” Sarah stepped forward.
“Do you still need a governess?” Hannah chuckled. “I suppose any man needs one so comely. Good afternoon, Miss Carlton. And how is my daughter?”
Sarah caught her breath and he felt her stiffen at the reference to Phoebe. Then she inclined her head. “Very well. Intelligent and kind.”
There was a tiny twitch to Hannah’s cheek. Otherwise, she didn’t react at all to the report on her daughter’s health. Not that Kit was surprised. She had not made any attempt to find out about her over the years. It was a blessing, of course, but one that made him doubt her motives today.
“Why are you here, Hannah?”
She stood up at last. “Adam is dead.”
Kit flinched. “Do not dare call him by his given name.”
She smiled. “It’s what he had me call him when he took me to his bed, dearest boy. Why should it be different now that he is in a grave? Took him long enough, didn’t it? I heard he drew it out a long time.”
Kit stepped toward her, but Sarah caught his arm and gently held him in place. “Don’t give her the satisfaction,” she said softly.
He bent his head and took a long breath. Sarah was right, of course. His anger would only please Hannah. She fed on that sort of emotion. Lived for it.
“Whether my father is dead or alive,” he said through clenched teeth, “I have no idea why it would matter to you. You settled with him years ago. You’ve no business here.”
“Settled with him,” she said. “But there is a new duke now. So it’s time that you and I settled. I’m here for a renegotiation of my bargain with Adam for Phoebe.”
Kit’s stomach turned as he stared at her. She could not have looked more disinterested. Like she was bartering over the price of coal, not a most beloved child.
“What the hell do you mean, renegotiation?” he snapped. “You don’t want Phoebe now any more than you did when she was born.”
She smiled. “No. But you do. And you should pay for that desire.”
Sarah stepped forward when Kit’s rage kept him from answering right away. “What exactly do you think His Grace would be paying for? From my understanding, you have not seen the girl for half a decade. Do you really think you would have any kind of standing to take her from a man of Kit’s stature? His wealth? He could crush you like a gnat if he desired to do so.”
“Could he now?” Hannah asked with another of those smiles for Sarah. “Fucking him, are you? The Kingsacre men are quite good in bed, aren’t they? But be careful, my dear. The snake has quite a bite when it’s done. Though it can be a lucrative endeavor if you manage it right.”
Sarah let out a sound of disgust and turned away, but Kit saw the brightness of embarrassment to her cheeks.
“Miss Carlton is correct,” Kit said, unwilling to put up with Hannah’s presence a moment longer. “You have no power over Phoebe anymore and no right to her. You surrendered it years ago. There is nothing to negotiate and you need to get out.”
“I can whisper,” she said. “Talk. I’ve been silent a long time about her. But if I did not remain so, it could make her future a little darker.”
“You would do that to your daughter?” Sarah cried, and now it was she who moved toward Hannah and Kit who reached out to catch her arm and steady her.
“Only if I’m forced to do so.”
“She is five,” Kit growled. “So whisper all you like and I will make sure that there will be consequences long before your words will matter to her. Now get out of my house. If you come back, I will not see you. If you ever approach my sister, I will make sure you regret it. Get out.”
Hannah let out a long sigh as she headed past them toward the door. “Well, I tried to do this the easy way. You won’t like the harder way. Good day, Christopher. And Miss Carlton…” Hannah smiled back at her over her narrow shoulder. “Good luck, my dear. Spread your legs enough and you might land him yet.”
Sarah could feel Kit’s rage all but pulsing from him, but he somehow managed to hold his tongue as the horrid Hannah Beckett walked away. She called impertinently for Barrymore to get her rig brought around, and Sarah’s stomach turned. She stumbled to the door and swung it shut as hard as she could to block out Hannah’s voice.
Then she came toward Kit, wishing her eyes were not brimming with tears. “Great God, that is Phoebe’s mother?”
Kit nodded, his expression tight and sour. “Yes. Unfortunately.”
“You said she could be charming, I saw no evidence of that,” she said, marching to the window to watch Hannah’s departure from the drive and be sure she’d gone.
Kit shook his head. “She was when she met my father. She was a chameleon, and I suppose she became what he desired. I didn’t even oppose the affair when he told me he’d taken a mistress. He had been alone so long and she seemed to be good for him. He was happy with her for a time. She required a great deal of…upkeep. Not general upkeep, not something reasonable that a man might give to support a lover. Outrageous upkeep.”
“Money?” Sarah said. “More than money?”
“Yes. And time. I spoke to him about it and saw he was as troubled as I was by her growing demands. He was going to break it off when she declared herself with child. And then it spiraled into the mess it is now. I suppose she no longer feels it necessary to keep up the mask. She’s desperate, though.” He scowled at the door she’d left through. “I sensed that and I don’t like it. Desperation is dangerous in a person like that.”
Sarah frowned, for she heard the same desperation in Kit’s voice. Anger, desperation and fear. The fear pulsed beneath his surface, like a heartbeat. She moved toward him. “Oh, Kit.”
He clenched his fists at his sides. “How dare she? How dare she come into my home and threaten me? Threaten…” His voice broke. “Threaten her?”
Sarah couldn’t help herself. She cupped his cheeks, smoothing her fingers over them as if she could soothe away this hurt that went so deep. How she wanted to.
“I’ve lost too much, Sarah,” he gasped out, his voice trembling with the depth of his emotion.
“You will not lose your sister,” she promised. “Everything I said and you said to that horrible woman was true. She has no power in this situation. And we will protect Phoebe…together.”
He nodded against her hands and she felt some of the terror leave his body. Like saying it out loud and having her hear it had helped somehow. She hoped it had.
He caught one of her hands as she lowered them from his face, and lifted it to his lips. He brushed a kiss over her knuckles absently and then he stared off toward the window.
“I need to see Phoebe,” he whispered. “I just need to see her now.”
Sarah glanced at the clock. “They should be back momentarily,” she said, “if Barrymore was correct that they intended to return just after their picnic.”
Kit tensed a fraction. “Yes.”
As if on cue, there was a knock on the parlor door, and it opened to reveal Diana, Lucas and Phoebe together. They were all smiling and Lucas was laughing at something—it made his serious face all the lighter and younger.
Kit transformed in that moment. All his dark emotion was pushed aside and he dropped to his knees, his arms open as he cried out, “There she is!”
Phoebe let out a little giggle and then rushed across the room to him and into his arms. He hugged her for a moment, then stood up with her feet dangling around his hips as she squealed and laughed with glee.
Sarah glanced at Lucas and Diana and found them exchanging a look. From the sudden change in their expressions, it was obvious they sensed something was wrong, even if Kit showed very little of it. Sarah had heard whispers from the other duchesses that Lucas had once been a spy, so she supposed if anyone would be good at reading people, it would be him.
They both glanced at her. Not in question, but in concern. Sarah forced a smile and gave a tiny nod, even though she didn’t understand why they thought she would be involved in Kit’s upset.
“Did you have the best day, my love?” Kit asked as he swung Phoebe around to balance her on his hip.
She nodded with gusto. “Oh
yes. Diana showed me all the plants that can heal a person. And a few that I am never to taste ever, ever.”
“Goodness,” Kit said with a wink for Diana. “Is she going to make you a healer yet?”
Phoebe grinned. “I want to be a healer, Kit. So I can save people like Lucas saved Sarah at the lake.”
A little color left Kit’s cheeks and he shot a side glance at Sarah. Then he smiled at his sister. “I think it’s a fine idea. But healers, I’ve heard told, need lots of rest. So I am going to take you upstairs and tell you a very soothing story and help tuck you in for a little sleep.”
Phoebe shook her head. “You are? Not Sarah?”
“Do any of them tell stories as well as I do?” Kit asked.
She seemed to ponder it for a moment. “Sarah’s stories are almost as good.”
Sarah smiled at the concession. “Thank you very much.”
“Well, I shall have to do better.” He glanced at his guests and Sarah. “Excuse me.” He sent Sarah a meaningful look, then exited the room with a loud, “Once upon a time there was a dragon…”
“Kit!” they could hear Phoebe squealing. “The dragon cannot be the hero of a story!”
Their voices faded away, and Sarah leaned against the back of the chair as emotion overtook her. Kit loved his sister and Phoebe adored him in return. If she was harmed, even in the slightest, he would never forgive himself. And who knew what a woman like Hannah Beckett could do?
Would do.
“What happened?” Lucas asked softly, his gaze never leaving Sarah’s face.
“Yes, did the afternoon not go…well?” Diana asked.
Sarah blinked. “It was fine. Kit and I were having a talk, a very odd talk, quite honestly, and then…”
She glanced toward the door. It was not her place to tell Kit’s friends about what had happened, but it felt like it was. And he would need their help, wouldn’t he? Perhaps not having to repeat the awfulness of that day would be a help to him.
The Last Duke (The 1797 Club Book 10) Page 18
