A Solemn Promise

XXI

Sarah turned her body in her chair, taking her head away from Grace's hands so that she could look at her properly. "No, really," she insisted. "The duke is your master and it was entirely wrong of her to be saying such things. Are you alright?"

Grace's eyes widened in genuine surprise. Was she alright? Of course not. Would she confess such a thing to Sarah? Certainly not. "Yes, milady," she said calmly. "We are all dreadfully sorry to learn of the poor duke's condition."

The words felt meaningless, even if they were genuine. Grace wanted to help Adam, and she would do so by being there for him, but she could also help him in another way. Whether she liked it or not, Sarah was going to be his wife. Perhaps she would regret doing this later, but she needed to try. Grace knelt beside Sarah's chair.

Sarah looked a little taken aback but moved a little closer to listen, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Five years ago, I lost my own father to the same illness," she revealed quietly, in perhaps the sincerest tone she had ever used when speaking to Lady Sarah Ashley. "It is a dreadful death, and I would not wish it on my worst enemy."

"Oh, dear Denham, I am so sorry to hear that," she said sympathetically.

"Thank you, milady. I don't know when the duke will die, but I fear he is not long for this world. His death will hurt this household immensely."

Sarah nodded slowly; her expression serious.

Grace took a deep breath. "You must be ... sensitive ... with Lord Beresford. He will need time, and he will need understanding ... and he will be hurting in so many different ways. But he loves his father, no matter their differences, and this loss will change him." Grace's breaths were so shaky and nervous that she was afraid she would not get her words out, but she had said them, and the prayed that Sarah took heed of them.

Sarah inhaled a deep breath as she sat back in her chair. She thought for a long moment before she spoke. "Do you speak from experience, or do you know Lord Beresford well?"

Grace stood up and smoothed out the skirt of her dress as her fingers knitted together in front of her. "Experience, milady," she said truthfully. It certainly was not a lie, even if the other part of her statement was true as well.

Sarah nodded calmly as she turned her attention back towards her reflection. "Do you know, Denham, I never noticed the colour of your eyes before now," she murmured quietly. "What an unusual blue."

Grace's eyes dropped as she concentrated on Sarah's hair. "Thank you, milady," she replied softly.

***

Dinner had been quite the disaster. Susanna could not stop weeping. Jack was nowhere to be seen. Adam looked as cheerful as a gravestone. And poor Lady and Sarah Ashley had a front row view to the spectacle.

Cecily Beresford had noticed a change in Sarah since she had spoken to them that afternoon and informed them of the duke's failing health. She was quieter at dinner, more observant, though there was much to see.

Lady Ashley had been trying to discuss appropriate wedding plans seeing as they now needed to move up the date, but Adam had been absolutely disinterested in the conversation and could only tend to his sniffling sister, and even Lady Sarah did not feel the need to contribute.

Cecily had ended the night with a thumping headache and an overwhelming desire for a sherry.

Why? Why did this all need to be so difficult? People died all the time. It was tragic, she was well aware. Death was indeed something to mourn over. But weddings, matches like Adam and Sarah, were society dreams. Such an agreeable match was to be revered. It did not matter that they were not in love. Nobody in their circle was in love when they married. But did it mean that the weddings were droll affairs? Absolutely not.