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S arah stood on the small, flat roof of the castle, between the north and south towers.

She stared out over the Dart Estuary. This rooftop used to be where Lord Dartmouth sometimes came to dance.

She would sneak up here to watch him. So much had changed in one day.

The man she loved was gone, her eldest brother was to be buried this afternoon, and William still had not opened his eyes.

She could not—

She squinted against the morning sun, which added no warmth to the day, and stared into the rippling water. Was that a man swimming in the frigid depths? Was it…Mr. Darling? Was he mad?

She bolted away from the wall and ran to the door. Racing through it, she nearly tumbled down the stairs and did not stop running until she reached the second landing. There, she rushed into Grayson’s room and grabbed his long, red winter coat.

Praying for it not to be too late to save Mr. Darling, she sprinted out of the castle and ran to the water’s edge.

When she reached the area where he was, she spotted him swimming inland.

With a great sigh of relief, she hurried to the water’s edge and waited for him with the coat.

He stood up, cascading water down his chest and abdomen, clearly defined by six squares and sleek muscle. He wore nothing but a scandalous pair of short pants and nothing else. He swept his dripping hair away from his eyes and smiled when he saw her.

“Good morning.”

Instead of answering, which would have been impossible to do while she stared breathless at him in all his glory, she jutted the coat out at him.

“What’s this?” He asked, taking it and examining the black fur-lined hood.

“It is his coat.”

“His ?”

She nodded, then watched him shake his head and shiver.

“Put it on!” She demanded, but he refused and stepped around her.

“Do you want to get a deadly fever?” she called out as he hopped over the water’s rocky edge.

“Better that than have you compare me to him .”

“Why are you out here swimming in the freezing cold?”

“It’s a beautiful spring day. I needed to get clean,” he explained. “This place would be perfect for a little get-together.”

“Get together?”

“Yeah, like a beach party.”

She tried to understand what he was talking about but finally shook her head, giving up. “You had a bowl of water to wash yourself up last eve.”

“That was enough to wash my face and nothing more,” he called out over his shoulder, in a hurry to reach the small sandy cove along the shore.

She watched him move to a cave carved into the cliffs. His legs were long and shapely, his waist and torso flared into broad shoulders. She swallowed and looked back toward the castle. What was she doing with him out here, alone and freezing?

In her haste to reach Mr. Darling before he drowned or froze, she had forgotten her coat. She had Grayson’s, but she couldn’t wear it.

When Mr. Darling disappeared just beyond the cave entrance, she wondered why he would rather have a deadly fever than have her compare him to the marquess.

Why would she compare them? The marquess was somber and brooding, while Mr. Darling seemed to have a zeal for life.

His eyes shone on just about everything.

When he spoke, his words and his tone were laced with passion.

He smiled whenever he saw her, unlike the marquess who only smiled when he saw Aria.

Did Mr. Darling like her? However was she supposed to know?

Could she try to discern it? But how did one do such a thing?

She was still wondering what she should do when he reappeared outside the cave, dressed in the clothes he had arrived wearing.

He gave her a wry look when her teeth chattered. “Do you want to catch a fever? Where’s your coat?”

“I forgot it.”

He pulled Grayson’s coat from her arms and put it around her shoulders.

“No, I could not wear this,” she said, squirming out of it.

“Fine,” he relented, then ran one of his arms through the sleeve. Before she could step away, he pulled her close, pushing her shoulder against his chest and closing the coat around them both.

For one eternally long moment, Sarah was completely at a loss as to what to do. Then she made the mistake of looking up at him.

He smiled. “Better?”

She wanted to say no but she would be being deceitful. It was better, warmer, safer here under the weight of Grayson’s coat or…was it being under the weight of Mr. Darling’s arm that felt so nice?

As soon as she considered it, she pushed away, fearing that someone might see them from the castle and bring shame to her mother.

“Sarah—” he began and held out his hand for her to take.

“My brother is being buried today. It is not right for me to be enjoying myself.”

When he smiled, she huffed and walked off without him.

“Take the coat, then,” he called out as the wind slapped her cheeks. “If you don’t, I’ll come and carry you back.”

With a little sigh at the very thought of it, she turned again, hurried toward him, and snatched the coat from his hand before he was out of it.

“I was only trying to keep you warm.”

Sarah stared at him. Was he still smiling? Tightening her lips, she threw Grayson’s coat over her shoulders and hurried off before he saw her crying.

Sarah held onto her mother while they bid farewell to Harry. Elspeth sniffled into a handkerchief as her husband was laid to rest, but she had managed to pull herself together and only shed a few tears. Sarah thought it was more honest of her sister-in-law.

There was no feast afterward to celebrate Harry’s life.

Not many people celebrated it. Mr. Cavendish was still confined to his chambers, as was his mother, to hers.

Sarah was angry with the duke of Devon for not putting his murderous step-son in prison where he belonged.

But there was little she could do about it without causing her mother more suffering.

“Mrs. Gable?” Mr. Darling said to her mother when he appeared at Sarah’s side. In truth, she had covertly watched him from the moment the ceremony was over and he began to move toward her. “I understand you’re staying here in the castle to look after William.”

“Yes,” her mother answered. “I hope we are not putting you out of your guest room, Lord Wishford. You have already done so much for us.”

“Please don’t mention it,” he replied with a polite, yet friendly smile lifting his cheeks. “I merely did what anyone else would have done.”

Sarah tried to look away several times but her eyes kept returning to Mr. Darling.

She felt mortified that she had assumed he was interested in her when he was only trying to keep her warm.

It was all that stupid coat’s fault! First, she could only think of Grayson in it, but then she could not think of anyone or anything other than being hauled against Mr. Darling’s warm body, with his arm curled around her shoulder.

No man had ever held her that way. No man spoke to her the way he had, and certainly none had ever “played” with her.

He was humble—unlike so many others at the castle.

“But no one did, Your Grace,” she spoke up, letting him know in her softest tone.

She was not bold, like some of the other women, but she wanted to make certain he knew what it meant to her.

“They were either too afraid of Mr. Cavendish or the duke—or both. They all stood still while Mr. Cavendish shot down my brothers and then came for me. You stopped him. If I have led you to believe anything other than that I am in your debt, please forgive me.”

He laughed and the sound reverberated, rumbling deep within her, through her blood, heating her from the inside out. What was this, she worried, tempted to fan herself. She had never felt any such way with any other man in her twenty-one years of living.

“That’s okay.” Mr. Darling held up his palms to ward off her promise. “I don’t want you to be in my debt. I came over to offer my help with anything you or your mother might need. I’ll sit with Will if there is anything you wish to do at home.”

“Your Grace, my daughter was correct about your being very kind—

“Mother,” Sarah tried to stop her. “I am certain the duke has things to—”

—“and charming,” her mother added when Mr. Darling’s surprise turned into a satisfied smile.

“Is that so?” He asked, looking very pleased about the whole mortifying thing.

“Yes,” her mother announced. “You know now that I think about it, there is something you can do for me.”

“Name it.”

“It seems we all need a change of clothes since we are staying for a while. Bring my Sarah to our holding so she can bring back some things.”

“But, Mother, there is no one home! We will be alone.”

“So?” Her mother smiled at her and then turned to him. “You are not a menace, are you?”

Mr. Darling’s dimple flashed. “Not all the time.”