It took only a few days for Sarah and Poppy to feel completely comfortable in the home of their gracious hosts. Sarah felt grateful beyond words to be so at ease in this house and with these people—given the fact that she had no idea how many weeks—or perhaps months—they might be staying. Darius had told them more than once that he needed to be absolutely certain of their safety before he would take them back home—or to a different location. She didn’t exactly understand how he might know that—short of the killer actually being discovered and incarcerated—but for now she preferred not to think about the details. She and Poppy had been opening up more with each other during their time alone and talking about the impact of all that had happened. While it felt good to be able to share her feelings—and tears—with Poppy, they both agreed that trying to speculate too much about the future right now would only make them feel restless and agitated. They’d both concluded that for now it was better to just focus on the present. When they’d somehow ended up in a conversation with Daphne on the topic, she suggested that it was important to take time to grieve over the losses in life, and perhaps it would be more healing for the two of them to have some distance from home—and from the situation. Sarah couldn’t help but agree with her. In fact, it was becoming somewhat of a ritual for her to start crying each night when she was alone in her bed. But crying herself to sleep was already making her feel that at least she wasn’t continually on the verge of bursting into tears, or worse, unable to feel anything at all.
Both Sarah and Poppy developed a daily routine, which included keeping their own rooms tidy, doing their own laundry, and assisting each other with buttons and hair. They also quickly discovered that while Daphne loved to cook—and she enjoyed sharing her creations with guests—she wasn’t necessarily fond of washing dishes, and there was always something in the house that could use some cleaning, which kept them busy. Sarah loved being productive, which made it easier not to dwell on the reasons for this situation.
While the women found projects inside the house to occupy themselves, Sarah couldn’t help noticing that Darius was keeping himself busy outside. According to Daphne he had already repaired a few things in the house and also in the barn, and he’d cleared away a great many weeds. She mentioned that David appreciated the help as much as he enjoyed the company.
A week after their arrival, the men were making some repairs to the roof in anticipation of winter, while the women were busy in the kitchen. Daphne was making what she called her famous pork and venison pie, and at Poppy’s request she was teaching her and Sarah how to do it. Sarah was fascinated with the techniques that made a perfectly flaky, crisp crust, and tender meat inside that didn’t leak its juiciness though the golden deliciousness encasing it. Since they were making pastry for the meat pie, they made extra for dessert, and Daphne mixed sliced apples with sugar and some spices to cook inside more of that perfectly flaky crust. While they were peeling and cutting apples—and listening to the pounding of hammers on the roof—Daphne told them the apples had come from one of the trees behind the house. Since Darius wouldn’t let Sarah or Poppy outside during the day—just in case—neither of them had known there were apple trees.
“But now that you mention it,” Sarah said, “we have been eating a lot of wonderful, crisp apples.”
“All grown right here,” Daphne said proudly. “The men have been picking a few bushels every day and putting them down in the cellar.”
“I didn’t realize that,” Poppy said.
“Nor did I,” Sarah added, thinking how she might enjoy picking apples out in the sunshine if she were not forbidden to leave the house, given the possibility that sometimes David and Daphne did receive visitors from the nearby village, and they couldn’t risk anyone at all being able to report that a woman in danger—or her maid—had been spotted there.
“They’ll keep fairly well until next spring,” Daphne added, “but of course they taste best when they’re fresh. I’m so glad you are here to enjoy them!” She said the last as if having Sarah and Poppy in her home was the best thing that had happened to her in years.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Poppy said with enthusiasm, and Sarah made a gentle noise of agreement
“It was excellent timing,” Daphne added, “for Darius to show up right at harvest time. I don’t mind helping pick the apples, but there are things I’d rather be doing, and Darius can pick more than both David and I put together. He’s very good at it.”
“So, he’s been here at harvest time before?” Sarah asked.
“A number of times, yes,” Daphne said. “He doesn’t stay only when he needs to keep someone safe; sometimes he just needs to get away.”
“Forgive me if this sounds nosy,” Sarah began, “but—”
“Oh, you can ask me anything you like,” Daphne said with a little laugh while they continued to slice the freshly peeled apples.
“Do you and David have children?”
“Yes,” Daphne smiled, “three. We have a daughter who married a fine man and they have three children. Unfortunately, he works in the shop he inherited from his father—in Liverpool. They have a good life there, but we only get to see them once every year or two.” She sighed. “And we have two sons; one lives in Portsmouth with a new wife. He works for the navy office there and quite enjoys it; that’s where his wife’s family lives, and it’s good that she’s close to her family since her health is somewhat fragile. But they’re happy. I get regular letters from them.”
“And the other son?” Poppy asked.
“He works abroad,” Daphne said with a sudden cloudiness in her voice, which subtly implied that her relationship with this son might not be so favorable. “We don’t receive letters from him, but I’m certain he’s doing fine. He was always very independent. Even as a young child he made it clear he could do just about anything on his own.” She sighed again. “Children are all different. You just never know where their personalities will take them. But David and I have been very blessed. Thankfully we enjoy each other’s company.” She laughed softly. “I know of many couples who reach our time of life when their children are gone, and they just make each other miserable. We’re both very grateful that’s not the case for us. We could spend every minute together and never get bored.”
“That’s lovely,” Sarah said. “My parents were like that, which was wonderful of course, but I’m certain it made my mother’s death much more difficult for my father.”
“Oh, it would!” Daphne said compassionately. “If nothing else, little one, it’s nice to think of your father and mother being reunited.”
“Yes,” Sarah said sadly and pushed back the threat of tears, putting them on hold until she was alone in her room tonight.
That evening they all savored the delicious results of the ladies’ labor in the kitchen. Daphne gave Poppy and Sarah far more credit than they deserved, although both of them admitted how much they enjoyed the opportunity to learn from such a skilled cook.
“At least you’re learning something,” Darius said lightly. “I learned how to pick apples years ago, and now I can’t get out of it.”
“You know when harvest season is, boy,” David said to him. “No one says you have to come here when the apples need picking.”
“I can assure you my need for protection wasn’t scheduled to coincide with the harvest,” Sarah said, glad that her comment didn’t dampen the jovial mood at the dinner table.
They all talked long after they’d finished eating, then Sarah and Poppy helped Daphne clear the table, but before they had carried all the dishes into the kitchen, David entered, rolling up his sleeves and announcing that it was his turn to wash the dishes. She looked past David to see Darius rolling up his sleeves as well. “And yes,” David smirked playfully, “he’s going to help me.”
“Very well,” Sarah said after Poppy had smiled and left the room. She might have been more inclined to argue if it had only been David, but the idea of Darius Noble washing dishes was simply too delightful. “I’ll leave you men to it.”
Sarah found Poppy in the parlor reading a novel she’d borrowed from Daphne, and Daphne was doing some mending. “I think I’ll go for a little walk,” she told them. “Even though it’s dark, I’d like to get a look at these apple trees that produce such a wondrous harvest.”
“Oh, they’re beautiful even at night,” Daphne said, smiling at her, and Sarah went upstairs to get her cloak.
Sarah stepped out the back door into the autumn air that had cooled significantly since the sun had gone down. She immediately craned her neck to look up and was instantly overcome by the beauty of the stars in the night sky. She’d become so weary of nothing but the sky for shelter during their days of travel that she hadn’t once stepped outside since they’d arrived. And now the fresh air and the glory of a star-filled sky felt both soothing and replenishing. When her neck began to ache from staring upward for so long, Sarah turned her attention to the three enormous trees in front of her that had not been planted symmetrically. But the lack of balance in their position from each other somehow made them all the more beautiful. Sarah walked beneath each of the trees, caressing their trunks and reaching up to touch the leaves she could reach. She wished she could pick an apple—just one—if only to feel the sensation of having it pop off the branch into her hand. But she could see no low-hanging apples at all. She assumed the men were using a ladder to get the apples that were higher up in the huge trees, but she didn’t see a ladder anywhere around. Perhaps it had been put away for the night.
Examining the trees more closely, Sarah noticed that one of them had branches perfectly placed for an easy climb. She didn’t need to go up very far; she just wanted to pick an apple. Sarah took off her cloak and laid it on the ground; even though she felt a little chillier, she knew wearing a cloak to climb a tree wasn’t a good idea. She found it remarkably easy to put a foot onto a low branch, then her other foot onto one a little higher up. After doing that a few more times, she looked around to find herself next to a large branch that stretched outward, and above it she could see the glimmer of a few shiny apples.
Sarah moved in a very unladylike manner out onto the branch using both her hands and feet until she eased herself into a fairly comfortable sitting position, with her legs hanging down. From there it was easy to reach up and take hold of an apple. She laughed as it plopped into her hand, making her feel rather victorious. She wanted to eat it then and there, but at the same time she wanted to wait and just savor the effort she’d put into finding the perfect piece of fruit. So she just sat there and held it, enjoying the night air and not feeling as cold as she might have expected. After some minutes passed, she realized she couldn’t sit up here much longer; in truth it wasn’t terribly comfortable. But as she looked back in the direction from which she’d come, getting down didn’t look nearly as easy as getting up here. Thankfully it was dark, and she was alone, because she knew she couldn’t do it without hitching up her skirt and petticoat around her waist. She decided she would have to go ahead and eat the apple where she sat if she wanted to truly enjoy it. She had no pockets, and if she threw it down it would get bruised.
Sarah was about to take a bite when she heard Darius say, “What on earth are you doing up there?”
His voice startled her, since she hadn’t heard him approaching; she didn’t know if he’d purposely tried to be quiet, or if she just hadn’t been paying attention.
“I wanted to pick an apple,” she declared as if it were a perfectly reasonable response.
“There’s hundreds of them in the house,” Darius said, sounding amused.
“I wanted to pick one myself,” she said, trying to sound falsely haughty, but she laughed and lost all pretense.
Darius laughed too and said, “Did you accomplish your quest?”
“I did,” she said and held it up to show him, even though she knew he likely couldn’t see any details of what she had in her hand.
“And how exactly did you plan on getting down?” he asked.
Refusing to admit she’d been a little alarmed over that very question, she simply said, “In a way that no gentleman should observe. Therefore, I suggest you go back into the house while I do so.”
“I see,” he said and laughed again, leaning his hand against the trunk.
“What are you doing out here, anyway?”
“Do you honestly think I would go to bed without making certain you’re safe?” he asked. “When I was told you’d come outside, I came looking for you. And here you are—in the last place I would have expected to find you.”
“Perhaps you don’t know me as well as you think you do,” she said, again trying to sound haughty but it faltered into a laugh.
“I’m certain that’s true,” he said, “but that works both ways.”
“Oh, I’m certain you know a great deal more about me than I do about you,” Sarah pointed out more seriously. “In truth, I know absolutely nothing about you.”
“You know what you need to know,” he said in a light tone, as if he were determined to keep this conversation friendly and not tread into things he didn’t want to talk about. He was private about his personal life. She did know that about him.
“If you’d like, I’ll catch you,” he said, “and then you won’t have to climb down.”
“What?” she gasped, astonished at the very idea. “You want me to just fall out of this tree?”
“I do,” he said. “It’s easy. Trust me. I’ll catch you. You’re not that far up; you won’t get hurt, I promise.”
“But . . .” she said then immediately realized how silly she would sound to try and protest, so she changed her mind about what she wanted to say and added, “I don’t want to hurt my apple. It’s perfect, you know.”
Darius laughed. “You hold on tightly to your apple, and I’ll catch you.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, surprised she was actually considering this.
“Of course I’m sure,” he insisted. “Just . . . fall . . . and I won’t let you get hurt. I promise.” She hesitated but didn’t speak and he added, “Trust me, Sarah. Your life is in my hands already, you know. I can catch you.”
Sarah looked down to where he was standing with his strong arms outstretched. She was surprised at how quickly she was able to affirm that she did trust him, and she did know he was capable of making certain she didn’t get hurt. She didn’t blame him at all for what had happened to Evans, but she suspected he blamed himself. That last thought distracted her from the present situation until she brought herself back to the moment and wondered why it would occur to her now in this situation. She decided that perhaps Darius needed to know that she trusted him despite what had happened, and maybe allowing herself to fall into his arms was just the way to do so—however silly it might seem.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“I’m ready,” he declared.
“Are you certain?”
“I’m certain,” he chuckled. “Are we going to be out here all night?”
“I’m coming,” she announced, then she took a deep breath and slipped off the branch. For less than a second, she was falling, then she felt his strong arms beneath her, and the way his knees bent then straightened again as his body gracefully held her weight as if it were nothing.
“There!” he laughed triumphantly, and she expected him to set her on her feet, but he didn’t. “How’s your apple?”
Sarah glanced down to see it still firmly in her hand. “Fine,” she said, surprised—but not unpleasantly so—by how close his face was to hers.
“And how are you?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she said, unable to keep from staring at him. Even in the darkness she could see his every feature. All the tingling and fluttering she’d been trying to avoid overcame her with such force that she was actually glad he’d not yet put her down, because she feared she might topple over from dizziness. “How are you?” she asked, hoping he didn’t hear the quiver in her voice.
“Oh, I’m perfectly fine,” he said and reluctantly guided her feet to the ground, letting go of her slowly. She teetered slightly—just as she’d feared she might—but he held to her arms and simply asked, “Are you certain you’re all right?”
“Yes,” she insisted, “just a little . . . unsteady.”
“Well,” he said, still holding onto her, “after such a tremendous fall, that’s understandable.”
His light sarcasm made her laugh softly, but as she looked up at his face, she wondered if he suspected the reason for her lack of balance. The last thing she wanted was for him to have the slightest suspicion that she’d developed some kind of school-girl infatuation over the man protecting her. But she would have never called herself a very good actress; her parents had always known when she’d been fibbing as a little girl, and she hadn’t been very old when she’d determined that she should always be honest because she could never get away with lying. Looking into Darius’s eyes now, she wondered if he could see the truth there, and if he did, she wondered if he might scoff at it, make fun of it, or simply disregard it.
Sarah kept telling herself to look away, but she just couldn’t. It felt as if some invisible magnetic force kept her gaze locked with his. She was so preoccupied with trying to hide any evidence of the way she felt about him that it startled her to realize what she saw in his eyes. A barely audible gasp escaped her lips and it became even more difficult to try and look away.
“I’ve never met anyone like you,” he said as if he were attempting to justify his reasons for staring at her. “A perfect lady, and yet so kind and respectful of others. Raised as an heiress and yet you clean and cook and do your own laundry. And you climb a tree just to pick an apple when you have no idea how you’ll get down.”
Sarah felt her breathing quicken as she took in what he was saying. Following his lead, she attempted to justify her reasons for staring at him by echoing his own words. “I’ve never met anyone like you, either,” she said. “You’re kinder and more respectful than any gentleman I’ve ever known—perhaps with the exception of my father. And you make me feel safe, even though . . .”
“Even though what?” he asked when she didn’t finish.
“Even though I know practically nothing about you,” she said, realizing she’d wanted to say this for several days. “You’ve asked me and Poppy a great many questions about ourselves, our lives, our preferences. You’ve told us a great deal about David and Daphne. But they tell us nothing about you, and you certainly offer no information about yourself. I have no idea if you even have a family, or where you come from, or—”
“With the work I do,” he said, “I’ve always considered it prudent to be conservative about sharing my private life.”
“Conservative would be an understatement,” she said, marveling that they were still staring at each other, and he’d not let go of her upper arms. “Are we not friends? You said you’d never met anyone like me. If I’m different than your other . . . clients, could you not open up just a little bit about yourself?”
“Why?” he asked as if her answer would be deeply important.
Sarah had no trouble saying, “Because I’m interested; because I care. Your work must be very lonely. Do you not ever wish to just . . . share something of yourself with someone else?”
“I have friends,” he said.
“And yet they share nothing about you, either,” she said. “Is there something you’re trying to hide?”
“No,” he said quickly and sincerely. “I just . . .” His hesitation made it evident he had difficulty sharing whatever he was about to say. “I . . . don’t want to get too attached . . . to anyone I’m hired to care for. It’s always temporary.”
Sarah wanted to tell him that his eyes were contradicting what he’d just said about not wanting to become attached. While she was waiting for him to offer some further explanation, she was completely taken off guard when he bent down and kissed her. She took in a sharp breath before she focused all her attention on enjoying the sensation of his lips pressed meekly against hers in a kiss that was lengthy but unassuming and tender. She’d never been kissed before, but her lips instinctively moved closer to his, as if by their own will they longed to be thoroughly engaged in this experience.
When their kiss ended, she heard him whisper her name in a dreamy voice while her eyes came slowly open, loving the view of his face so close and from this angle. She was enjoying the opportunity to take in every detail of his features when he stepped back and let go of her so suddenly that she almost lost her balance.
“I’m sorry,” he said as if he’d just been caught in someone’s home stealing their silver. “I’m so very sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why not?” she asked, trying to figure out why she suddenly felt totally rejected. She couldn’t keep from sounding a bit snide as she added, “Am I so repulsive, or—”
“It’s not that, Sarah,” he said, stepping backward. “It’s nothing like that, I can assure you. It’s just . . . I’m supposed to be keeping you safe; I was hired to protect you. This is just not . . . appropriate.” He turned and walked away, saying over his shoulder, “Please go inside so I can lock the doors and make certain all is well.”
“All is not well,” Sarah said so quietly that only she could hear. She stood there for a minute or more trying to review what had just happened—and how it had affected her. She’d gone from curious to elated to devastated in a matter of a couple of minutes, which left her almost as disoriented and fraught as she’d been when she’d found out her father had been murdered.
Suddenly feeling cold when she hadn’t noticed the temperature at all since Darius had found her in the tree, she headed toward the door of the house. She was almost there when she recalled her cloak on the ground near the tree and she turned back to get it.
“What are you doing?” Darius asked, and she realized he had circled around part of the yard and was standing in the shadows on the other side of the tree, waiting for her to go inside. She wondered why he sounded angry when he was the one who had kissed her.
“Getting my cloak,” she said. “I left it on the ground.”
She picked it up and said nothing more before she walked through the back door into the house, going straight up the stairs to her room. She didn’t want to see anyone or talk to anyone. She just needed to be alone so she could try and accept that she had fallen in love with Darius Noble, but apparently as long as he was working to protect her, such feelings didn’t matter. She was nothing short of amazed to realize he had similar feelings for her—or at least she assumed he did by the way he’d kissed her—but according to what he’d said, such feelings were nothing more than a dreadful inconvenience under the circumstances.
Sarah locked her bedroom door and tossed her cloak over a chair before she sat on it and sighed. She sighed again before tears came. She didn’t know if she was still crying over the death of her father, the realization he’d been murdered, or the way Evans had been killed by a bullet intended for her. Or perhaps now she was crying for something else entirely. Or maybe all of it combined. She decided it didn’t really matter why she was crying; she just kept doing so while she methodically got ready for bed, climbed beneath the bedcovers, and extinguished the lamp on her bedside table.
“Darius,” she whispered into the darkness and cried some more until she once again cried herself to sleep.
* * * * *
Sarah dreaded going down to breakfast the morning after her apple-picking adventure, but she finally worked up the nerve, only to arrive in the dining room and find that Darius had eaten early and was doing some work out in the barn.
“Or he might be using my woodworking tools,” David said casually and sipped his coffee. “He does that occasionally to ease his boredom.”
Sarah sat down next to Poppy, glad when the meal proceeded with casual conversation that had nothing to do with Darius. By the following morning at breakfast, Sarah was amazed at how skillfully he was managing to completely avoid her. She kept hearing one excuse after another from either David or Daphne, neither of whom seemed at all concerned or confused. Perhaps it was common for Darius Noble to have bouts of avoiding people and keeping to himself. Sarah wondered if the situation might have been better or worse if she’d had no idea regarding the reasons for his antisocial behavior. Knowing that it surely had something to do with their kiss beneath the apple tree and his immediate regret, she found it difficult not to think about him almost constantly—as if she hadn’t had trouble with that prior to their strange little romantic encounter. Now that she knew she wasn’t the only one feeling this way, Darius’s absence left her confused and sometimes agitated.
Sarah worked slowly at washing the lunch dishes—another meal which had been eaten with Darius absent—wondering where he was and what he was doing. If she hadn’t been strictly forbidden to leave the house in daylight, she would likely have wandered the yard and gone out to the barn to find him and confront him and get him to tell her the truth. As it was, Sarah was stuck in the house, too distracted by her thoughts to focus on reading or even sticking to a task for very long. She glanced at a little clock in the windowsill, alarmed by how long it was taking her to get the dishes done. She’d volunteered, since Poppy had confided that she was behind on her personal laundry, and Daphne had gone to check the supplies in the pantry and cellar to make a list of what was needed, since David was going into town to get some grain for the animals living in the barn. Sarah had been told there were chickens and cows, and of course horses. She knew well enough they would not be enjoying milk and eggs without the former, but she had yet to see them with her own eyes. And right now, she just wanted to go to the barn with the excuse of seeing the animals, hoping she might find Darius there. But he’d be furious with her if she left the house, and that would only make this situation worse.
“Darius went into town with David,” Daphne said and startled Sarah.
“Is it safe for him to be seen in public?” she asked.
“Oh, he’s known to show his face around here somewhat regularly,” Daphne said. “I doubt anyone will think a thing of it. No one around here knows what he does for a living; they only know he’s connected to us and visits often.”
“I see,” Sarah said and rinsed off a plate she’d just washed, wishing she could go into town. She didn’t really mind being stuck here in this house; it was a pleasant home with good company. But she was finding it increasingly difficult to not see Darius while at the same time wondering why he had kissed her, what he was feeling, and why he’d become so upset about it.
“I thought you might like to know he couldn’t possibly overhear us while we’re talking,” Daphne added.
“What?” Sarah asked, turning to see an intensity seeping into Daphne’s expression.
“Never mind this,” Daphne said and urged Sarah away from the dishes, handing her a towel on which to dry her hands. “We need to talk.”
Sarah felt a little afraid as she followed Daphne into the parlor and they sat down to face each other.
“Darius told me what happened,” Daphne said, and Sarah felt her face turn warm—which meant it was also turning bright pink.
“He did?” she asked, not knowing what else to say.
“I’m afraid there’s very little Darius doesn’t tell me,” she said. “David knows too.”
“Knows what exactly?” Sarah asked, wanting to clarify that they were talking about the same thing before she made a comment that embarrassed herself further.
“How he feels about you, little one,” Daphne said as if she’d told Sarah something deeply tragic. “And what happened outside night before last.”
“I see,” Sarah said again and looked down at her hands as she folded them tightly in her lap. Without looking up she said, “And did he tell you I’m the reason he’s not showing himself at mealtimes?”
“He is reluctant to see you,” Daphne said in a way that made talking about sensitive matters seem so easy. “But it’s likely not for the reasons you might think.”
“How does he—or anyone else—know what I might think?” Sarah asked, looking again at Daphne.
“He doesn’t; we don’t,” Daphne said, “although it’s been evident since the day you arrived that you feel something for him.” Sarah looked abruptly toward the window, hating the very idea of her feelings having been so obvious to those around her. “The thing is, little one,” Daphne said, “he believes that if what he feels for you were not reciprocated, he would be able to dismiss all this more easily. He sincerely cares about you, but he doesn’t want you to get hurt.”
“What do you mean?” Sarah asked, noting that Daphne’s wording seemed a little strange. Daphne hadn’t said that Darius didn’t want to hurt her; she said he didn’t want Sarah to get hurt. Given that he was being paid to protect her, she couldn’t help wondering if there was a connection. Or perhaps she was only imagining things. But since Daphne was making it so easy to be straightforward, Sarah waited expectantly for an answer to her question.
“He usually doesn’t want people to know,” Daphne went on, “but from what he said to me, I think he wants you to know; he just doesn’t want to have to tell you himself. Still, you must know that this is very close to his heart; I’m trusting you—as he is—to respect the matter and keep it confidential.”
“Of course,” Sarah said, her heart quickening as she sensed from Daphne’s tone and expression that she was about to hear something truly dreadful.
“To put it simply,” Daphne began, “Darius has only loved one woman, and she was killed while he was responsible for her safety.” Sarah gasped, and Daphne added, “I don’t think he’s ever forgiven himself, and I think he fears that if he indulges in his feelings for you, he will be distracted and put your life at risk, because that’s what he believes happened before.”
Sarah took all this in before she asked, “Why didn’t he just tell me himself?”
“Darius is a gentle soul, little one,” Daphne said. “For all that he is intelligent and perceptive and physically capable of just about anything, he’s not unlike most men when it comes to sharing such difficulties. In truth, the two of you haven’t known each other very long. He tells me he trusts you, but I’m certain that in spite of the years that have passed, he still finds it difficult to talk about.”
“That’s understandable,” Sarah said, and couldn’t think of anything else to say except, “What should I do?”
“Be patient,” Daphne said with a kind smile. “I suspect you’ll be here a long while yet, and the two of you will have more time to get to know each other better.”
“Not if he won’t be in the same room with me,” Sarah said, a little miffed about that in spite of what she’d just learned.
Daphne laughed softly. “He’ll come around. Just . . . be patient with him. I thought that if you knew the reasons why this is difficult for him, it might help you understand, because I can tell you’ve felt confused.”
“That I have,” Sarah admitted. She sighed and added, “I’m very sorry for his loss.”
Daphne nodded and looked down, as if she couldn’t think about it without becoming emotional herself. She looked back up and said, “It’s impossible to know if anything might come of the way you and Darius feel about each other, little one, but I can assure you he will not allow himself to even consider any kind of relationship with you—beyond friends—until he is no longer responsible for your well-being.” She stood up as if to indicate that was all she had to say.
Before Daphne could leave the room, Sarah said, “Thank you for telling me.”
Daphne smiled and nodded and hurried away so quickly that Sarah wondered if she was actually on the verge of tears. It was readily evident that Daphne and David cared very much for Darius; she wondered if they had known this woman he’d loved who had been killed. Perhaps she had come here with him. The idea seemed likely.
Sarah sat there alone for several minutes reviewing everything Daphne had said. It was a little unnerving to think that David and Daphne knew everything about Darius’s feelings—and what had happened under the apple tree. But her sorrow on Darius’s behalf—combined with her concern for him—eased her temptation to feel embarrassed.
Needing a distraction, Sarah returned to the kitchen to finish washing the dishes, which meant she had to heat more water to get them properly clean since the water she’d been using had turned cold. By the time she was finished, Sarah knew she needed to talk to Poppy. It wasn’t like her to keep secrets from her dearest friend. She completely trusted Poppy, and therefore concluded that she had avoided the subject mostly because she hadn’t wanted to admit to her feelings for Darius when she barely understood them herself. But it wasn’t fair for Poppy to be the only person in the house who didn’t know what was going on.
Sarah found Poppy in her room, reading.
“May I talk to you?” Sarah asked, closing the door behind her.
“I wish you would,” Poppy said, alluding to the likelihood that Poppy had been waiting for Sarah to confide in her.
“Forgive me,” Sarah began, “for not being more straightforward with you. Everything has just been so . . . overwhelming . . . and confusing, and . . .”
“I know,” Poppy said. “There’s no need to apologize. I just want you to still be able to confide in me, and to know that I would never tell a soul anything you share with me.”
“I know that,” Sarah said and proceeded to tell her the whole story, beginning with her first inklings of attraction toward Darius up to the point of the conversation she’d just had with Daphne. Poppy was compassionate and kind as always, and she reassured Sarah that she wouldn’t repeat a word of what Sarah had just shared.
Now that Sarah had no secrets from anyone in this house, she and Poppy were able to talk about other things. Sarah was glad to feel more relaxed with Poppy than she had since she’d found the sword and had started keeping secrets. In spite of this strange situation with Darius—and not having any idea how the situation might resolve itself—Sarah was relieved to feel like her friendship with Poppy was finally back to normal. Until now she hadn’t realized how much tension there had been between them; it had been subtle and she’d chalked it up to her grieving and also her fear regarding all that was happening. But now she could see those things had been complicated by Sarah not opening up to Poppy the way she used to. Hopefully now everything would go back to normal—at least between her and Poppy.